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familiarscars · 2 months ago

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Lost In Control | Bad Omens | CHAPTER 28

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Bad Omens X ex-girlfriend and singer!Reader.

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. You and Noah had a difficult ending but you still need to support each other for the band.

⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). melancholy, ex-boyfriends, difficult relationships, alcohol abuse, swearing, drug addiction, violence.

It's okay to not agree with the characters' attitudes during the fic. It's good to remember that the story is fiction from the author's sick mind and of course they will make dubious decisions according to my fantasies. Nothing is done to be compared to reality.

Sydney, May 18, 2022.

NOAH

"Your call has been forwarded to voicemail..." the automated voice announced for the eighth time in under five minutes.

I paced back and forth, fists clenched, gripping my phone with such force that it wouldn't be long before I wore a hole into the floor. My impatience gnawed at me as I failed to get through again. I raked my fingers through my hair, exhaling a heavy sigh.

We had been away from home for five months, touring non-stop. Five months away from Los Angeles. Five months since I had last heard from her. Five months of her ignoring every attempt I made to contact or reconcile with her. It felt like a game—a twisted game designed to drive me insane by vanishing completely from my sight.

"Try her phone again, please!" I said, my voice trembling with exhaustion, my chin jutting toward Jolly as he pulled his phone from his pocket. He’d always been closer to her, and lately, I was clinging to the thin hope that he might have better luck reaching her.

“We’ve tried, Noah. She still won’t answer,” Jolly reminded me, his tone calm but firm.

I shook my head and lowered my phone from my ear, pressing my lips together.

“We’re going home tomorrow. You’ll have your chance to talk to her face-to-face,” he said, stepping closer and patting my shoulder.

“I don’t feel right…” I muttered, swallowing the tightness in my throat as I turned my gaze to the window. “Something feels wrong.”

“You’re probably just anxious. How about you get some rest? Lie down, try to sleep. I’ll keep calling her and let you know if I hear anything. But you need to rest.”

There was no order in Jolly’s voice, no harshness—only concern, evident in the lines of his forehead and the tightness around his eyes. I nodded faintly, giving him a small, strained smile to reassure him enough to leave me alone in the room again.

Empty and jagged.

I knew this wasn’t guilt—not the kind that gnawed at your conscience. I didn’t regret anything I’d done so far. My conscience was clear. But still, I felt it—something was missing.

The truth is, we’re never satisfied with anything.

We tie our happiness to external things, believing that once we achieve certain goals or acquire what we desire, we’ll finally cherish those accomplishments. We put our ambitions above logic, battling tirelessly until we reach them. But when we do, the thrill of victory dulls the joy of having won.

That was how I felt.

Even though I had accomplished everything I’d set out to do, I still felt hollow—like a tree trunk eaten away by termites.

“Your call has been forwarded to voicemail…” The voice interrupted my thoughts again as I collapsed into the chair by the window. “Leave your message after the tone.”

“I haven’t seen cloudy skies and drizzle the same way since you left, little storm. Today, more than ever, I woke up thinking of you, with a feeling that claws at my chest with every breath. Every day in a message like this, I tell you how much I miss you, but today it feels unbearable. I’m sorry.” I sighed.

I breathed deeply, my eyes drifting between a blank spot on the floor and the fogged window, blurred by the rain.

“If your plan was to punish me, congratulations—you’ve succeeded. I haven’t stopped feeling like a worm since the moment you walked out of our house on a day just like this.”

I inhaled sharply, dividing my gaze between the rain-washed glass and the suffocating silence on the other end of the line.

“I feel like something’s terribly wrong. I can’t explain it, not to anyone. But you’d understand. It feels like a part of me is dissolving, and I can’t put it back… just a gaping, hollow hole left behind.” My head tilted upward as I whispered, “I’d leave you alone forever if I could hear your voice just one last time. Even if it’s to call me selfish or tell me to disappear from your life. Not that my promises have meant much lately.”

A notification buzzed, cutting me off—voicemail full.

My breath quickened. Fury rose inside me like a storm, and I launched my phone against the wall. It shattered into fragments, leaving a jagged hole in the dark paneling. The sound of impact was deafening, but I barely noticed.

I sprang to my feet, adrenaline surging. Rage coursed through my veins as I tore through the room, toppling my desk, sending my laptop crashing to the ground. Glass splintered into sharp shards, scattering across the floor. I grabbed them and hurled them at the mirrors, cracking the glass until my reflection was a distorted mess of fractures.

I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. It felt as though the world was collapsing, and I was determined to bring it all down with me.

When the storm passed, I stood amid wreckage, my chest heaving, my hands slick with blood from the shattered glass. I slumped onto the bed’s edge, gripping the mattress so tightly my fingers pressed through the fabric.

The door creaked open. In my peripheral vision, I noticed curious heads peeking in. Gerard stepped forward, closing the door behind him, leaving the others outside. He weaved his way through the glass-strewn floor, his eyes locking on mine as my grip on the mattress tightened further.

“You’re paying for the damage,” he said, his tone flat. “Every cent the hotel charges for this mess.”

I shrugged.

“Why aren’t you dressed?” Gerard asked, grabbing a few shirts from the back of a chair and tossing them into my lap. “We’ve got a show in a few minutes and an interview on the way. Now’s not the time for tantrums.”

“I’m not feeling well.”

Sometimes, a single event sets off a chain reaction. The stress of not hearing from her had worn me down completely.

I wasn’t just tired—I was spent, hollowed out. Every show over the past five months had drained me, each performance pulling the worst out of me. I was exhausted, and there wasn’t much left to give.

I just wanted to go home. I had an almost delirious urgency to go home.

"Did you see a doctor?" Despite the concerned tone, he had little real interest.

"Yeah, after I got sick during last week's show. He said it’s something like burnout."

Gerard sighed, his shoulders slumping.

I nearly jumped when he sat beside me on the edge of the bed, placing a hand on my shoulder. If he was tense, his presence made me twice as uncomfortable. I caught a glimpse of his empathetic expression out of the corner of my eye.

"Noah, I’ve known you long enough to think of you as a son..."

"Think of?" I raised an eyebrow, skeptical.

"It’s normal to feel tired. You’re working hard—onstage, offstage, promoting the new album. Look, the band is growing the way you always wanted, making new strides every day... This isn’t the time to lose steam." His voice was low, deliberate, as if weighing every word. "This dream has always been more yours than anyone else’s, hasn’t it? I’ve always noticed you’re the one who puts in the most effort."

"I disagree."

"She may be a good singer, Noah, but she’s never been a real professional. She never treated the band as a priority, never made it her life’s purpose. She’s always been more concerned with pleasing you. I never got involved because I’m not here to give relationship advice. My job is to focus on your career. But now the inevitable has happened. Your personal life is bleeding into the stage." His words felt like a blade carving into my skin.

Confusion must have filled my eyes. I turned fully toward him, studying his face. He wasn’t angry—nor did he wear his usual smirk of indifference. That only made the conversation feel even more surreal.

"I was your age once, and I loved someone so deeply it felt like the rest of the world didn’t exist. But looking back, I don’t think it was worth it. You know why? We wanted different things. She believed she had the right to suffocate my dreams. That’s what happens when you put people in places they don’t belong." Gerard took a deep breath before continuing. "I don’t think her distance is a coincidence. You should see it as a reason to move forward."

No. No. Not even close.

"You don’t know us—not enough to compare my story to yours!" I snapped, rising to my feet. I grabbed clothes and belongings from the mess around me, stuffing them into my bag. With every piece I collected, the tightening in my chest worsened.

He spoke about her decision with such conviction that it gnawed at me, as if he knew something I didn’t.

"I know enough to say this is the smartest decision she’s made in years. You both function better apart, and more importantly, the band doesn’t suffer." He shrugged. "Frankly, I’d suggest we keep the lineup as it is now, but I figure you’d make that a headache, just like these past five months chasing after her!"

"Do whatever you want with the lineup. I’m taking the first flight back to Los Angeles."

"If you can afford the cancellation fee for the show, you’re free to go wherever you want, darling!" He mocked, wagging a finger. "I’ve already lost enough covering for one absent member. You won’t make it two!"

I could afford the fee by now, but one thing held me back—I wasn’t alone.

The band was bigger than my whims. It wasn’t fair to drag my friends into my chaos.

"I’ve tried putting a sliver of sense into your head, but if you insist on this path, that’s your problem," Gerard muttered, standing and dusting invisible specks from his hands. "Just get the job done. I don’t care how much you cry backstage..."

He moved toward the door but paused next to me, leaning in with a smirk, his voice dripping with mockery.

"And unlike her, I’m not worried about how you’ll handle this pathetic heartbreak after the show."

The punch I delivered struck before he could retreat. My knuckles collided with his face in one swift, solid motion.

Gerard staggered backward, and I pinned him against the wall. He licked the blood from his lip as I shoved my hair out of my eyes, my chest heaving with fury.

"Don’t ever talk about her like that again," I growled, leaning so close I could see his eyes widen. "You can hate her all you want, but you’ll swallow every insult. Because the day she walks away for good, I’ll be next. Without her, there’ll be no album, no tour, no shows—nothing to keep padding your bank account. So don’t you ever speak about her like that again!"

His brief smirk faded the moment I jabbed my finger into the fresh cut on his jaw, pressing into the tender skin.

"You don’t know me, baby. Not even close," I whispered, shoving his face away with enough force to send him stumbling into the door.

Gerard straightened his posture, took a breath, and left.

Alone at last, I leaned my forehead against the wall, the weight of it all finally crashing down on me.

After the show, I refused all fan photos. I didn’t stay to watch the other festival bands with the guys, didn’t record any interviews, didn’t say goodbye to anyone. I simply grabbed my things from the hotel and rushed to the next flight home. No layovers, no delays, desperate to breathe in the familiar scent of my city. As soon as I got off the plane, I kept trying to call her over and over as I waited for a taxi, but every attempt ended in silence.

That drive from the airport to home had never felt so long.

When I finally arrived, sitting still inside the car on the other side of the street, I noticed the closed windows and the pile of letters in the mailbox. Dry leaves scattered across the porch. I tried to push the thought away, but the signs were clear—maybe she hadn’t left the house in days.

Because of me.

Each step along the short path to the porch tightened the ache in my chest. A hundred terrible ideas raced through my head of what she might have done to herself, alone in that empty space. I quickened my pace, hesitating only a moment before forcing the door handle until it gave way.

Silence.

Everything was exactly as I had left it before I traveled. Clothes still lay draped over the sofa, and the plants on the table were wilted. But something stood out—her shoes weren’t behind the door, and her jackets weren’t hanging on the rack.

If I had felt anxious and agitated before, this realization only made it worse, my heartbeat thundering so loudly I was sure it could be heard from across the room. Dropping my bag, I bolted up the stairs to the second floor and into our bedroom.

The bed was made, everything in its place. But something felt wrong.

The closet held only my clothes. None of hers. The shelf beside it was empty of everything but my shoes. I blinked several times, stumbling backward, my feet weightless as I moved toward the bathroom. The counter beneath the mirror, where her makeup, perfumes, and hair products had once cluttered the space, was bare. Nothing remained but a toothbrush and toothpaste.

"No... no, this can’t be..." I whispered to myself.

I tore through every corner of the house in a frenzy, my throat burning from the lump I fought to keep down. I didn’t want to cry. Her suitcases were gone. There was no trace of her—no sign that she had ever shared this space with me.

Pacing the floor with my hands tangled in my hair, I let the most painful tears I had ever known flow freely. I hated myself for this. It was all my fault. I had been the one to turn my back on her, to sweep her aside like she didn’t matter.

But I never imagined I’d come home to an empty house.

I felt it. The street stretched endlessly, each step echoing in the hollow silence of the night. Low fog clung to the sidewalks, and the cold air tore through my lungs. I walked as though I were the last person alive, revisiting places that had once been ours, chasing even the faintest flicker of clarity.

The park where she laughed at my terrible joke and made the world feel lighter. The café where she dared me to abandon my habits and try something new. The bridge where we swore we would never be just another passing moment in each other’s lives.

Now, all of those places were as empty as I felt.

My mind was chaos. Every time her image surfaced, it felt like the noose around my neck tightened a little more. I was drowning, spiraling into a despair without end.

Then, an idea flickered to life.

"Why didn’t I think of it sooner..." I whispered, my voice barely audible.

I broke into a run. My body protested, but I didn’t stop. Her old house. The one she left behind when we decided to build something together. Maybe—just maybe—she had gone back there.

When I arrived, the sight of the familiar façade hit me like a punch to the gut. It was like confronting a ghost from my past, only this time, it felt far too real.

My ragged breathing filled the silence as I stood before the door. The house seemed smaller than I remembered, compressed by time into something stifling and suffocating. My hands trembled as I reached for the handle. I forced myself forward.

It was unlocked. The door creaked as it opened, the sound cutting through the heavy stillness of the night.

And there she was.

For a moment, my vision blurred as my mind struggled to reconcile the image I had held of her with the person standing before me. She was in the hallway, a living shadow, likely coming to see who was at the door.

Her sweatshirt hung too loose on her thin frame, swallowing her frail shoulders. Her hair was carelessly tied back, and deep shadows under her eyes marred the face I had once memorized. Her lips, once vibrant, were pale, drained of life and color.

She looked like a distorted version of herself.

Her eyes met mine—wide, guarded, and wary, like a cornered animal. My chest clenched.

"You left." My voice broke, a mere whisper, but heavy with anguish. "You left, little storm..."

She didn’t move. Her gaze drifted over me as though deciding whether I was real or just another ghost haunting her mind.

"You shouldn’t be here, Noah." Her voice was cold, fragile. The pain she tried to hide was as plain as the exhaustion etched into her face.

"Not supposed to be here?" I repeated, my voice catching in my throat. "You just left—disappeared—and wouldn’t answer my messages, driving me insane these past months. How do you expect me to..."

I stepped closer, unable to hold back, and cupped her face in my hands. Her skin was ice-cold, sending a shiver down my spine. She didn’t react. Her eyes darted away from mine, refusing to meet my gaze for more than a fleeting second.

"You can’t do this to me." My voice cracked. "You can’t leave me alone in that house."

She stirred, trying to pull away, but I didn’t let go.

"Look at me." I begged, my voice thick with emotion. She didn’t budge. "It was just a stupid fight like all the others, wasn’t it? You’re coming home, right? We’ll work it out like we always do, and everything will be fine… won’t it?"

She sighed, weary, as if the weight of the conversation was too much to bear.

"For God’s sake, answer me!" I tightened my grip before loosening it immediately, horrified as she shrank further into herself, shame radiating from her every movement.

My hand fell to my side. I watched as she rubbed her face, as if trying to erase me from the room.

"I know I messed up, okay? I know I disappointed you, acted like an idiot. But I need you. I can’t do this alone." My voice broke, my last defenses crumbling. "Come back home. Please."

She shook her head slowly, resolutely, without ever meeting my eyes.

Then I saw them.

Bruises. Faint at first, shadowy traces through the sleeves of her sweatshirt when she raised her arms. Some purple, others faded to yellow.

I didn’t think.

I grabbed her arms, panic surging as I held her frail body. She didn’t resist. She couldn’t even slip from between my fingers.

"Who did this to you?" I demanded, barely able to keep my voice steady, my eyes roaming from one mark to the next. I pushed her sleeve higher, finding more bruises staining the delicate skin of her arm.

Then I saw the cut.

A deep, vertical gash, a row of stitches trailing along it in mid-healing.

The world went cold.

"What happened?" My voice rose, frantic, my heart thundering as I grabbed her shoulders. "What happened to you?"

"Answer me!" I shook her, my desperation pouring out.

And then she smiled. A weak, hollow curve of her dry lips.

"You already know the answer."

"Me?" I whispered, my own voice foreign to my ears. "It doesn’t matter." I shook my head fiercely. "We’re going home. We’ll talk there."

I fought to control the tremor in my hands, my dry throat constricting as I began grabbing whatever I could find. A bag. A pair of shoes. Anything that belonged to her—anything that proved she still had a place with me. My mind raced, a blender of jagged thoughts spinning wildly out of control.

But her words stopped me.

"This is my home now."

I froze, the weight of her statement crushing every thought that tried to form.

"No..." The word slipped out, broken, more to myself than to her. "No, it’s not. It can’t be."

I ignored her and continued gathering her things, convinced that if I just kept moving, we could fix it.

"We’re going home. Now." My voice was firm, a brittle mask over the chaos inside.

"No."

It sliced the air like a blade.

I stopped, a bag still clutched in my hand, and turned to face her. She stood with her arms crossed, her posture rigid, as if trying to shield herself from everything I was unleashing.

"I’m not going anywhere, Noah." She swallowed hard, her gaze fixed on the floor. "You told me that time alone would help me think. And I did. I think we..."

"Don’t finish that sentence!" I cut her off, my heartbeat spiraling.

"We’re not working anymore, Noah. We’re out of sync, and as much as I’ve tried to be someone worthy of you, I can’t keep pretending." Her voice wavered, her tears falling freely now. "These years haven’t healed me. I can’t change. It’s not fair to keep you tied to someone like me."

I stood there, her words echoing inside me like a verdict.

"No..." I whispered, the denial a plea. "Don’t do this."

Tears burned my eyes as I took a step closer. "Please, little storm... don’t leave me."

She looked away, wrapping her arms around herself like a fragile barrier.

"You don’t understand, Noah. This isn’t healthy for either of us anymore."

"Don’t say that!" The shout ripped from me, raw and agonized. "You’re all I have! I need you!"

The words tumbled out in sobs, the anguish clawing through my chest like poison. My legs gave way, and I leaned against the doorframe, my heart racing too fast, too hard.

"I know I screwed everything up..." I choked, fingers running through my hair. "I hurt you. I was selfish. But tell me how to fix it. Just tell me."

She wept, and it destroyed me.

"It’s not about fixing it." Her words were knives, each one sharper than the last. "It’s about what I’m doing to you."

"Turning your back on me will destroy me!"

"I’m not turning my back. I’m giving you a chance—to be so much more than I’ll ever be. I can’t keep you chained to someone marked by her past, who ruins everything she touches." She shook her head, despair dripping from her voice. "Look at me, Noah. I’ll never be more than this."

"I don’t care!" I shouted, my face wet with tears. "I don’t care about any of it. I just want you."

I couldn’t hear her anymore—not her words, not her reasoning. All I felt was the gaping wound in my chest, bleeding out with every breath.

"You love me, right?" I whispered, the words a trembling breath of panic. "Tell me you still love me."

"Noah..." She shook her head, her eyes even more filled with tears, clutching her chest as if each word tore her apart from the inside, as if avoiding my gaze would somehow ease the pain.

"ANSWER ME!"

She hesitated, and that single fraction of a second was enough to send my world crumbling further.

"If you loved me, you wouldn't be saying this. You wouldn’t be leaving me like this!" I pressed forward, my voice sharp and desperate. "You would try one more time and finally understand that I chose to be yours despite your flaws. I didn’t care about your past, I didn’t care how far apart our dreams might have been—I just wanted to be yours..." I argued. "I don’t care how far we are from perfect. I never wanted to give up on you."

She turned her face away, tears streaming down her cheeks as she slowly shook her head.

"Tell me you still love me," I repeated. "Little storm."

"I... I don’t love you anymore, Noah."

Everything stopped.

The sound, the air, the ground beneath my feet. Just an all-consuming, deafening void. A chasm opened inside me, dark and endless, swallowing everything I knew.

"No..." I whispered, shaking my head as my throat tightened to the point of pain. "That’s not true. You can’t even say it looking me in the eyes."

She didn’t respond, and the silence that followed was worse than any words she could have spoken.

My legs finally gave way, and I collapsed to the floor. The hardness of the ground didn’t matter—nothing mattered. I buried my face in my hands, the sobs tearing through me like a storm I couldn’t weather.

She was there, only a few steps away, but it felt like she was already a million miles from me.

I had lost her.

⭑ @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard ; @iluvmewwwww75 ; @anarchydomainglory ; @foliosgirl ; @lacy1986 ; @chey-h ; @supersquirrel1996 ; @zozaline ; @just-randomm-stuff ; @do-it-jakey-baby

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mcwizardcz · 26 days ago

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Blog Post #2 2/5

Why are algorithms reproducing racially biased outcomes? Algorithms are a new technological advancement that helps institutions such as healthcare and the police make predictions. These algorithms collect their data from public records, social media, and over-surveillance in communities of color. As a result, most minorities have their data taken when they go to a hospital. Moreover, the people who create the algorithms are often white men. Algorithms produce biases as a result of our society's values and beliefs. (Brown, 2020) This means that the algorithms will not be fixed until society no longer has these biases towards minority groups.

How did people use social media to push back against immigration policies? The media has a long history of being an intricate part of fighting back against injustices. Nowadays, social media has allowed for the spread of information to be more easily accessible. An example of this was the recent protests against the new anti-immigration policies established by Donald Trump. People used social media to rally support and organize protests all over the United States against I.C.E. Most of the media I consume is on Tik Tok which has been posting videos of how the protest had successfully shut down the highway in Los Angeles. For the most part, my algorithm produced encouraging reactions towards the protests. However, the media has two sides to it and there were also some racist comments on the videos.

What role did the “ A Day Without Immigrants” protests play in capitalism? The media played a big role in spreading the news that people should stay at home, not spend any money, and not go to work. Many people know that the United States of America is a capitalist country. Therefore, the protesters decided by not spending money they would get more attention to their cause. I work in retail and the next day they had reported that Adidas had only made $8,000 dollars which is significantly less than what we make on a normal day.

What are health insurance’s ethics and how does it affect the biases made by their algorithms? Health insurance was originally made on the ethical principles that it was made to help out people and treat them fairly. However, their morals get questioned when they use algorithms as a quick fix to make predictions. These algorithms are well known to use data that includes discriminatory practices towards minorities. This can lead to the algorithm making unfair assumptions and taking away healthcare from people who need it the most. Moreover, it may be difficult for a consumer to sue a healthcare provider as they are not required to be transparent about their algorithms. Therefore, a healthcare provider's morals will depend on whether or not they continue to allow the algorithm to have discriminatory biases towards minorities.

References: Brown, N. (2020, September 18). Race and Technology. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d8uiAjigKy8 Eubanks, V. (2019). Automating inequality: How high-tech tools profile, police, and punish the poor. Picador, St. Martin’s Press.

#TCL25

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stlivingla · 4 months ago

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hellsbellschime · 2 years ago

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So I know mentioned that I have weirdly bad luck a few days ago, and although this happened on Sunday and I just didn't have the energy to chronicle it until now, it is such a hilariously on-point example that I'm a Murphy's law magnet that I can't not share.

So, I went to Las Vegas with my cousin last week and generally had a good time, aside from the fact that I'm pretty sure I broke a bone in my foot and/or toe the day he arrived in California to hang before we left, which obviously made traveling in general or doing a lot of fun shit way more difficult (and I'm finally going to go see a doctor about it tomorrow or Thursday so fingers crossed they don't tell me anything terrible).

Sunday was the day I left, and because I have a Priority Pass I left the hotel at like 4:30am so I could go grab a free breakfast at the airport lounge before I go. I get there, do this automated ordering thing, get a confirmation number and everything, and it says that it should be ready in 15 minutes or less. Because I'm dumb and don't recall that everything that can go wrong for me will go wrong, I don't note when I made the order, and eventually realize it has been 30 minutes at least and it's basically time for me to go. I track down an employee and ask WTF, and they're like oh yeah we got no order and we can't give you anything to go, sorry. Which already had me annoyed, but whatever, it's a flight from Las Vegas to Los Angeles, it's 7am and it'd be bizarre if I wasn't home by 10am.

So I get on the plane, fly home, everything seems to be fine. I arrive, text my mom that I've landed, go down and collect my luggage, and wait. And wait. And wait and wait. Eventually calling her like 10 times during that hour to see what the eff is going on.

After waiting in the terminal for about an hour, I decide to go start looking for her, as I'm guessing she must have forgotten her phone, and to be fair, I did tell her that it would be one of two terminals that I would land in. So I walk to the other terminal, no dice. I know she'll be driving my new EV, so I think hey, maybe I should check out the EV parking areas to see if she's even here. I do that, no dice. I do a few laps in the airport again, still no luck. All of this on an injured effing foot mind you.

By the time I have gone through all this rigmarole, it has legitimately killed another hour of waiting (LAX is fucking huge if you didn't know). At this point I am legitimately starting to get concerned, and I think hey, my car is brand new and all tech-equipped, maybe I can do something with that and at least see if the car is parked at my house, at the airport, or en route somewhere else.

So although I hadn't signed up for the service yet because my car is legit brand new, I text OnStar to see if there is any assistance they can give me. They eventually tell me to get on a call and I do, and because I haven't actually signed up for anything they ask me a series of questions to figure out how they can track down my shit. They ultimately ask me for my VIN which I surprisingly do have because I at least signed up for the Chevy app on my phone, and they're like oh this VIN (on my brand new car that has been owned by no one else mind you) has a registered OnStar account to some guy name Frank who I've never heard of in my life. I'm like okay, maybe the zero in my VIN number is actually an O, so they try that and are like nope there's nothing here it's definitely the Frank account or whatnot, but we can't help you either way.

But thankfully, they at least offer to transfer me to someone who works at Chevy to see if they can do something about it as well. They ping me over to them and we essentially go through the exact same process again, down to them telling me that some dude named Frank has an account under my VIN and that ultimately there is nothing that they can do. They're basically like, eh, call the cops or you're SOL.

At this point another hour plus has gone by and my concern and frustration is through the roof, and I'm basically like well I could call the cops, but if I know my mom, she's just blowing me off or screwed something up rather than it being an emergency. So I decide that I should find a way home by myself, and I better figure it out fast because my phone battery is now at like 20%. Lyft, Uber, and cabs were too much, but there is an express bus from LAX to Union Station that runs often and it's sorta in the direction of my house, so I download that app, buy a one way ticket, and wait for the bus to show up.

In case it wasn't obvious, I have also been incessantly calling my mom this entire time, but once I have bought my ticket and am waiting, despite the fact that I have called 30+ times to no avail and I landed at 8 and it is now 10 to noon, she FINALLY picks up the phone, very clearly just waking up from sleep. Unsurprisingly I am a tsunami of rage and basically say okay cool, glad you're okay, already figured out how to get home, gotta go, don't want to deal with your shit at the moment.

So I take the bus to Union Station and then take the metro rail toward my house (which sidenote, 10/10 recommend LA metro rail, even if the train isn't the cleanest holy shit the views were actually spectacular, it was super fast, and I legit regretted never having taken the train in the city before then). The station in my town is like 2 miles from my house, I ask my mom to pick me up, she says yes, and once again I'm sitting outside at 1pm in 100+ degree heat, waiting with very little shade. After waiting for like 20 minutes I'm like hey, do I want to sit here waiting forever again or should I start walking? So I start walking home with luggage in tow, and tell her that I'm starting to walk home so if she finds me she finds me and if not I'll be there when I get there.

I, no joke, make it 1.6 out of the 2 miles before she actually arrives. I tell her to GTFO of the driver's seat so I can drive home and immediately start charging my now nearly-dead phone, I hop in, and immediately see that the battery gauge on the car is flashing on "low" and the battery is low enough that it is minimizing the actual propulsion of the car. Thankfully we are right next to the DC fast charging stations near my house, so I immediately turn into the parking lot. Not so thankfully but entirely as usual, there are three cars in line waiting before me. I tell my mom to once again GTFO and go into the nearby mall so I can wait, and because the battery is so low, I lower all of the windows and turn the car off, once again waiting in 100+ degree heat.

It takes 20-25 minutes for me to get to the front of the line, and because Electrify America charging stations are garbage, I get the actual charger to connect to my car but the card reader is not working. I call EA assistance to pay on my almost dead phone, and as I am giving her my card info, the call starts breaking up hardcore. It disconnects, but thankfully the agent calls me back and finishes the transaction so the car can start charging the battery that now literally has 3% power and I can also start charging my phone.

At this point I am so hot and sweaty that my hair is literally wet, and I'm like A. I'm dying and B. I actually probably need to rehydrate for my own safety, so I go into the mall and get a large Honeydew smoothie and large watermelon slush to bring myself back to life. I go back to the car because at this point I am beyond exhausted, my foot is killing, and I am dying to go home because I have been up since 4:30am and expected to be home 7 hours earlier, so once the car is just half charged I finally bail.

I go home, pass tf out, and wake up a few hours later with sunburns on both of my forearms.

So, if you were ever wondering what I meant when I said that I have genuinely weirdly, bizarrely bad luck, now you know.

#real life woes

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westshellos · 2 years ago

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preface to “a few of my favourite things”

coming across @/dieworkwear’s tweets on ethical fashion while coming home to a perpetually-full wardrobe everyday really made me reconsider some of my sartorial purchases.

one thing he pointed out was the fact that the average american spends $600 on clothes a year. with that kind of money, he argued, you could buy a good piece of quality clothing that would undoubtedly last you more than a year and that didn’t involve slave wages and inhumane working conditions in the production process. this was in response to somebody defending SHEIN—what i like to call TaoBao lite for people who can’t read chinese—an ecommerce website that was recently crowned 2022′s most popular fashion brand. with the countless number of labor law violations we’ve seen from other brands (nike, zara, h&m, or most of what’s on the market right now) over the years, it’s no surprise that SHEIN too was found guilty of all these violations and more.

this isn’t news to anyone. if anything it’s become something that’s almost a given for any fashion brand that’s able to put out new stuff on their website every week (or day). as someone who knows how sewing works (sort of), i of all people should know that ethical fashion is expensive fashion: clothes aren’t easy to make, and sewing is one of the few things left that hasn’t been fully automated because it’s a meticulous, arduous process that takes immense skill and dexterity. the closest we’ve come are automatic electric sewing machines that still have to be operated by skilled tailors. it’s why clothes from a label like los angeles apparel (not the best example for dov charney reasons, but that’s a whole other topic that i don’t have the space to get into here; point is, they pay their workers a living wage of US$20-35/hour) charges US$24 for a plain cotton t-shirt and not $2. it’s why a hand knit sweater from a small business on instagram costs US$300 and not $30. making clothes is hard, and when SHEIN charges a suspiciously low amount of money for clothing, it’s because it is suspicious.

a common defense for buying from SHEIN is that it’s one of the only options for people who can’t afford to buy from ethical brands. but as @/dieworkwear has already pointed out, the average american (and arguably, singaporean in my context) probably has enough money to buy what they need (good quality things, too) and have it last for a year or more. this “defense” is, more often than not, a thinly veiled excuse for people who want to do $1000 SHEIN hauls without feeling guilty. using “there is no ethical consumption under capitalism” as a reason is arguably even worse, as it’s co-opting a phrase that’s supposed to describe the unethical nature of capitalism as a whole. it’s not something you say when you want to consume as unethically and freely as you want.

the point is that despite there being no ethical consumption under capitalism, we still have the ability to make it as ethical as we possibly can. working on an honor’s thesis on labor, capital and the ethics of care, it’s become increasingly clear to me that this tweet (pictured below) was exactly right. capitalism would want you to care less, because pessimism and resignation paves the way for compliance. they would want you to say “screw it, i’m going to do that $1000 SHEIN haul because nothing i do matters” because then you’d be doing exactly what they want: buying stuff you don’t need to line the pockets of gajillionaires.

drawing from many feminist philosophers and scholars, i wrote (or rather, am intending to write at this point in time) that love and care, under a system that promotes and reproduces itself through carelessness, is inherently radical. apart from loving and caring for the people around you, i’d say loving and caring for the things you have now can be an act of resistance too: after all, what’s not anti-capitalist about refusing to participate in the cycle of endless consumption?

despite knowing all of this for a long, long time, i was, sadly, a culprit of all these things i’ve listed. in the past, i’ve been guilty of buying way too many things when i didn’t need to. i’ve also been guilty of buying things from places with more-than-questionable ethics (i’m looking at you, TaoBao). reading these tweets and working on my thesis has imbued me with some sort of hope—that even if i don’t manage to lead the proletariat to revolution and dismantle the system from top to bottom, there’s still some point in trying. that the little things do count. so to atone for my previous sins and to help me buy less and more ethically, i’m going to start a series titled “a few of my favourite things” to appreciate the things i already have rather than feel the need to buy more. this is just the preface.

#fashion #fave things series #rambles

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seccamsla · 2 days ago

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security-cameras-installation-la · 11 days ago

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🏠 Smart Security for Smart Homes: Integrate CCTV with Your LA Smart Home 🏠

Welcome to the future of home security! At Digital Surveillance we don’t just install CCTV systems – we integrate them seamlessly with your smart home devices to create a connected, intelligent security solution for your Los Angeles or Orange County property.

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protechsmartinc · 6 months ago

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Pro Tech Smart Inc

#Home Automation Los Angeles #Home Automation

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digitalmore · 12 days ago

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#IFTTT #DigitalMore.co

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newstfionline · 22 days ago

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Monday, February 10, 2025

The flu season is so severe that it’s forcing schools to close across the country (USA Today) Schools across the United States are being forced to close due to surges of influenza and other seasonal illnesses. As the 2024–2025 flu season rages on, many school systems are overwhelmed with sick students and staff members. In the past week, a swath of schools and even entire school districts have announced closures in at least 10 states. These include Texas, Ohio, Oklahoma, Georgia, Virginia, and Tennessee, among others. It’s a measure reminiscent of the COVID lockdown era: schools closing their doors—some canceling classes entirely, while others pivot to remote learning—due to widespread illness. However, this time, influenza is the main culprit, and the school closures are short-lived, with most lasting only a few days.

GoFundMe Became a $250 Million Lifeline After the L.A. Fires (NYT) As the chief executive of the crowdfunding site GoFundMe, Tim Cadogan is no stranger to disasters. But until the Eaton fire forced him to evacuate his own home in Altadena, Calif., last month, a crisis had never landed on his actual doorstep. He was in his home office, wrapping up work on the evening of Jan. 7, when he heard the thump of helicopters. He drew back the curtain and was greeted by a terrifying line of orange fire marching down the hillsides above his house. Moments later, Mr. Cadogan and his family evacuated. Although their home was not burned, they cannot return there for months, if not longer. That left Mr. Cadogan scrambling to file insurance claims and find a new place for his family to live, all while managing one of the biggest surges in donations ever made through his company’s platform. Since the fires broke out, people have donated more than $250 million to victims of the Los Angeles fires as well as to charities working on relief efforts through GoFundMe—$20 million more than the company helped collect for all natural disasters worldwide last year, according to the company. More than a million donors in 160 countries have contributed to that total.

Musk’s blitzkrieg (Washington Post) Billionaire Elon Musk’s blitzkrieg on Washington has brought into focus his vision for a dramatically smaller and weaker government, as he and a coterie of aides move to control, automate—and substantially diminish—hundreds if not thousands of public functions. In less than three weeks, Musk’s U.S. DOGE Service has followed the same playbook at one federal agency after another: Install loyalists in leadership. Hoover up internal data, including the sensitive and the classified. Gain control of the flow of funds. And push hard—by means legal or otherwise—to eliminate jobs and programs not ideologically aligned with Trump administration goals. The DOGE campaign has generated chaos on a near-hourly basis across the nation’s capital. But it appears carefully choreographed in service of a broader agenda to gut the civilian workforce, assert power over the vast federal bureaucracy and shrink it to levels unseen in at least 20 years. The aim is a diminished government that exerts less oversight over private business, delivers fewer services and comprises a smaller share of the U.S. economy—but is far more responsive to the directives of the president. If Musk is successful, the federal workforce will be cut by at least 10 percent. As much as half the government’s nonmilitary real estate holdings are set to be liquidated, a move aimed at closing offices and increasing commute times amid sharp new limits on remote and telework.

Venezuelans backed Trump. Now some worry he’ll deport them. (Washington Post) Ronald Bellorin decided to flee Venezuela for the United States during President Donald Trump’s first administration, convinced the Republican leader would protect people like him who had been targeted by an autocratic regime. Now the university professor is worried the Trump administration is going to deport him. The Department of Homeland Security has canceled the temporary protected status given to thousands of Venezuelans who have arrived in recent years. Bellorin’s permission to work in the United States is set to expire in April, and his shield from deportation in September. “Today, I feel the same way I felt in Venezuela—that they’re going to come take me somewhere I won’t be able to escape from,” Bellorin said, tearing up as he described his family’s ordeal. “I thought we would be safe here.” The decision to cancel temporary protected status (TPS) for hundreds of thousands of Venezuelans has ignited fear, confusion and outrage in this Miami suburb, which is affectionately known as “Doralzuela.” Venezuelans in Doral have been some of Trump’s biggest proponents. Even if many could not vote, they attended rallies, decorated their front lawns with Trump flags, and took to social media to support the man they thought would prioritize removing Nicolás Maduro from power. For many Venezuelans, Trump’s decision feels like betrayal.

Ecuador heads to the polls (AP) People on the streets of Ecuador can rattle off the places they have encountered criminals: On the bus, at the park, on the sidewalk, in a cab, by the mall, next to a restaurant. And they can just as easily list what they lost in the multiple robberies or hours-long kidnappings they have experienced: A full month’s salary; a second, third or fifth cellphone; a wallet. So many of them have become crime victims since violence erupted in their country four years ago that they are no longer shaken by their friends’ stories of burglaries, carjackings or other offenses. Still, their personal and collective losses will be a determining factor Sunday, when they head to the ballot box to decide if a third president in four years can turn Ecuador around or if incumbent President Daniel Noboa, deserves more time in office.

Far-Right Leaders Rally in Spain to ‘Make Europe Great Again’ (NYT) Since taking office, President Trump has threatened European countries’ security and economies, angled to take control of Greenland, and promised to “definitely” slap the nations with tariffs. Even parties that would seem to be his natural allies are nervous. But Saturday was not the day for disputes. Leaders of far-right parties in Europe came to Madrid for what, on the surface at least, amounted to a boldface names booster rally for a new Trump era. There was Marine Le Pen of France’s far-right National Rally; the Netherland’s populist, Geert Wilders; the leader of Italy’s League party, Matteo Salvini. All made clear that they shared Mr. Trump’s charge against what they see as “wokeism,” “gender theory,” and overweening environmentalism. For them, the American president had blown through the last barriers that had confined their parties to the political margins. “Trump’s tornado has changed the world in just a couple of weeks,” Prime Minister Viktor Orban of Hungary told his allies from the stage of the summit whose slogan was, “Make Europe Great Again.” “Yesterday we were the heretics,” he said. “Now we are the mainstream.”

War Has Wreaked Havoc on Ukraine’s Classrooms (NYT) The students meet a day a week for lessons in a tiny underground classroom that teachers call the beehive, for the buzzing of all the children packed inside. Holding classes above ground in this part of Ukraine, in the city of Balakliya near the front line, is considered too dangerous because of the ever-present threat of Russian missiles and drones. Children spend most of their time in online classes and take turns going to school underground. Disruption to the education of Ukraine’s 3.7 million schoolchildren is one of the most serious challenges for the country. Classes have been repeatedly interrupted, leaving many students far behind academically, experts say. Children are also losing their soft skills, such as communication and conflict resolution, from being unable to interact enough with other students. Providing classes of any kind has been a huge obstacle for the country since Russia’s full-scale invasion began in 2022.

China’s campaign to turn the world against Taiwan (Economist) In the battle for global backing over Taiwan’s fate, China is rapidly gaining ground. By The Economist’s count, 70 countries have now officially endorsed both China’s sovereignty over Taiwan and, just as crucially, that China is entitled to pursue “all” efforts to achieve unification, without specifying that those efforts should be peaceful. Moreover, the vast majority of those countries have adopted that new wording in the past 18 months, after a Chinese diplomatic offensive across the global south. Our findings are consistent with those in a study published on January 15th by the Lowy Institute, an Australian think-tank. It found that by the end of last year 119 countries—62% of the UN’s member states—had endorsed China’s claim to sovereignty over Taiwan. Of them, 89 also backed China’s unification efforts, with many supporting “all” such measures. China wants protection from the sanctions that Western officials have discussed imposing in the event of a Taiwan crisis. By ensuring much of the world recognises the legitimacy of its actions, it makes it unlikely sanctions or even censure could be imposed via the UN and means that global compliance with Western-led sanctions might be even lower than has been the case after Russia’s attack on Ukraine.

Lead investigator resumes Beirut port blast probe and plans to question senior officials (AP) The Lebanese judge leading an investigation into the huge 2020 Beirut port explosion questioned two port employees on Friday, resuming his probe after years of obstruction, according to four judicial and two security officials. On Aug. 4, 2020, hundreds of tons of ammonium nitrate detonated in a Beirut Port warehouse, killing at least 218 people, injuring more than 6,000 and devastating large swaths of the capital. The blast, one of the largest non-nuclear explosions in history, caused billions of dollars in damage and sent shockwaves through the nation’s capital. The probe into the causes of the blast, led by Judge Tarek Bitar, has faced years of obstacles that at one point appeared to have halted the investigation altogether. Officials implicated in the case accused Bitar of being biased in his investigation, refused to testify, demanded his removal and filed legal complaints against him. The investigation resumed around mid-January, a move that coincided with Lebanon’s new leadership.

Thai nationals held captive by Hamas for 15 months return home (Reuters) Five Thai nationals held captive by Hamas for over a year returned to Thailand on Sunday, reuniting with their tearful families at Bangkok’s Suvarnabhumi Airport. The returnees, dressed in winter jackets, were met with emotional embraces from their families. “We are all deeply touched to come back to our birthplace ... to be standing here,” said Pongsak Thaenna, one of the returnees. “I don’t know what else to say, we are all truly thankful.” According to Israeli authorities, Hamas militants abducted at least 240 people, including Israelis and foreign nationals, in an October 2023 attack on the Israeli border. During the attack, Hamas gunmen killed 41 Thais and kidnapped 30 Thai labourers. Later that year, the first group of Thai hostages was returned. Before the conflict, approximately 30,000 Thai labourers worked in Israel’s agriculture sector, making them one of the largest migrant worker groups in the country.

Africa Reels as U.S. Aid Agency Is Dismantled (NYT) For decades, sub-Saharan Africa was a singular focus of American foreign aid. The continent received over $8 billion a year, money that was used to feed starving children, supply lifesaving drugs and provide wartime humanitarian assistance. In a few short weeks, President Trump and the South African-born billionaire Elon Musk have burned much of that work to the ground, vowing to completely gut the U.S. Agency for International Development. A federal judge on Friday halted, for now, some elements of Mr. Trump’s attempt to shutter the agency. But the speed and shock of the administration’s actions have already led to confusion, fear and even paranoia at U.S.A.I.D. offices across Africa. Workers were being fired or furloughed en masse. As the true scale of the fallout comes into view, African governments are wondering how to fill gaping holes left in vital services, like health care and education, that until recent weeks were funded by the United States. Aid groups and United Nations bodies that feed the starving or house refugees have seen their budgets slashed in half, or worse. By far the greatest price is being paid by ordinary Africans, millions of whom rely on American aid for their survival.

#headlines #news

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