#San Diego Business Journal

[subsidystadium]

Former San Diego councilman talked to city leaders about a sports arena. Forgot to mention being a paid consultant for the project.

Last night, I saw a very interesting article on a site called LaPresna.org. In it, they discuss a former San Diego Councilman (Byron Wear) going in front of the city four different times to push hard on approving a development project that would involve a new sports arena district. This in itself is not that odd. Except, in this case, it was a bit different since he wasn’t telling anyone that he…

[mermaidchansons]

Divine Indeed: Part One

Neighbor!Terry Richmond x Divine Wells (black OC)

Story Summary: Divine Wells, an autistic seamstress, deals with waves of change after she picks up her life and moves to San Diego for a new job. She thought she’d finally found peace in her new normal; until Oshun decided to push her path to collide with her fine ass neighbor, Terry Richmond.

Words: 1400+

Warnings: none

Author’s Note: I guess I’m back like John Wick lmfao. I know this is short but there will be more! My taglist is old so if you would like to be removed, lemmie know. Thanks for reading the beginning of this 5 part series <3 - Ashanti

Pt. 1 Pt.2

“Phone, wallet, journal, where the hell did I put that key?” Divine shivered from the cold as she rummaged through her tote, searching for her mail key. She knew she should have added the key to her ‘Heathers’ lanyard when she moved in two weeks ago. But no, the endless streams of thought tossed that out completely. Here she was, tired from her first day at the new job, freezing from the sudden drop in temperature outside; dragging her bandaged fingers through her belongings and wincing at the pain. The sounds of the busy road and the bustling community echoing in her apartment complex were bouncing against her cat ear headphones. Overstimulation had already begun to creep up her shoulders, causing her to search hurriedly.

“It’s fine, just breathe,” she murmured to herself, before squatting and emptying her bag on the floor. 

When the fashion house hired her full-time, she hadn’t expected to be welcomed with such a joyful yet overwhelming welcome. The office was fast-paced, everyone wanted to introduce themselves and compliment her work at last season's fashion week. Divine, as grateful as she could be, was exhausted. The fabric archive was extensive, her desk was flooded with natural light, and the office was close to her new favorite coffee chain. All good things, all great things; but the exhaustion of change was eating away at Divine’s joy. Greedily gobbling it up and leaving nothing but crumbs in her hands. It was enough to make her sick.

Divine took out her phone and turned on its flashlight, illuminating the inside of the black tote. The silver mail key glimmered in the light in the left corner of the bag, causing Divine to sigh in relief. Accommodating change with ever lessening spoons was an easy way to ruin what should have been a good day.

 Change was a concept that both pushed and plagued her existence in this world. It was a fickle thing, really. A breakup with her freak of the week or a sudden change in plans could dissolve all ability to function; however, so could a new high paying job, a new apartment, a new city. When Divine was 7 years old, her twin sibling Sera found her crying under the ancestor table with her eyes shut tight. She was praying, begging Oshun and Elegba to stop time altogether and keep the waves of change from lapping at the beach of life that she had been thrust upon, unwillingly. Most of her childhood was spent running away from the throws of time. Her parents brought their twins up in love and the teachings of the Orishas, wanting to grant them spiritual guidance that would prepare them for anything they should face. But it didn’t truly matter whether the change was good or bad, Baby Divine would still have to regulate herself, manipulating and reforming her spirit to adapt to a new mold. Every now and again, the freshly 31-year-old would find herself in her tub with her ears below the water, desperately pleading for Oshun to still time. Only for a moment, just enough time to get her bearings. Divine had made her plans, carefully entwining every new task with just enough time to find balance. However, the Orishas did not take these plans into consideration when they made her. Oshun had her own plans. 

Divine shoved the spilled contents of her life back into her tote and walked into the mailroom. She leaned down to unlock what she thought to be her mailbox, eager to get her package and scamper off to her apartment before anyone saw her bent over. The key didn’t work in #71, #74, or #75, and she could never remember. She made a mental note to reread her move-in papers so that she wouldn’t be in here for this long again. There was nothing wrong with sharing a mailroom with other folks, but Divine knew she took up space. She was a dark skin woman with thick thighs, an ass that could stop traffic, and a tummy to match. Today’s pants were put on when Divine was hyping herself up this morning, telling herself that ‘an ass this good deserves to be seen’. But 10 hours later with little to no patience, the less she could be perceived by others, the better. She just needed to get her new stuffy, a pig with wings, and get out as soon as she could.  The music in her headphones transitioned into a new song and the slow plucking of a bass guitar steadily built up in her ears before King Woman’s voice floated in. 

I don’t have to sell my soul

He’s already in me

I don’t need to sell my soul

He’s already in me

Unlocking door #78, Divine sent a silent thank you to the ancestors before pulling two letters out. There was no package. Why was there no package? Divine reached her arm in as far as she could and felt around the empty space, her shield of annoyance stopping her from noticing a person entering the room. 

“The front desk usually leaves a key for bigger packages,” the deep voice boomed out. Divine, scared out of her wits, moved a bit too fast, clanging her wrist against the mail to get out. She looked at the person surprisingly, shaking the pain away from her wrist. He was soaked to the bone like he’d just been caught in a rainstorm; the wet fabric of his shirt clung to his thick, muscle-lined frame. Divine had gotten so lost in drinking in the man’s tall frame, that she had forgotten all about her key and the mailbox. Package be damned. 

I wanna be adored

I wanna be adored

“I’m sorry, could you say that again?” Divine stood up straight, fixing her clothes, and put one side of the headphones behind her ear. The man was practically a giant, so tall that she was sure he had to duck to walk into the room. Her eyes locked with his and she audibly gulped. His eyes were transportive, a stunning grayish blue with flecks of green folded in. They looked like wells filled to the brim with a storm, desperate to escape and wreak havoc on anyone in its path. 

“You’re good,” the giant said, offering small bits of reassurance, “if you have a package, they leave a key to the community package box. May I?” 

Divine shifted to the side to allow him enough room to sidestep in front of her and grab the key that had lodged itself into the back corner of her mailbox. She watched him intently as he moved to open the community box, making note of how the muscles in his back moved. Her mouth went dry watching him and it was as if all the water in her body was flooding to her middle. She needed to get out of here, as soon as possible. 

The kind man handed her her missing package with the key on top, their hands touching and setting off a string of electricity that shot up her arms and down her spine. An unintentional staring match has begun and Divine tore eyes away, intimidated and aroused. 

“Thank you. Bye,” Divine curtly turned on her heels and rushed out of the mail room, and made a beeline straight to the stairs; elevator be damned. Who was that god of a man? Was he watching her walk away? God, she hoped that he was. Divine didn’t want to be perceived but if he was watching she’d make it worth the watch. She relaxed her body and amped up the sway of her hips before checking over her shoulder to see that he was turned away. She dragged her hands down her face, groaning in embarrassment. Her sibling would get a kick out of this.

@babybluepeaches @muse-of-mbaku @melaninmarvel @ashanti-notthesinger @naturallyqueenie @howtoshuckatlife @goldieccentric @archivistofwakanda @alexundefined @minyara-kun @destinio1 @siriuslycollinss @raysunshine78 @madamslayyy @notdsg @ghostfacekill-monger @soufcakmistress @greennightspider @bitchacho25 @jordanhelah @puremolasses @ajspencer1892 @monochrome-pineapple @psuedo4 @bubblyqueen @chaneajoyyy @blowmymbackout @tchallasbabymama @megamindsecretlair @nahimjustfeelingit-writes

Thanks For Reading!

[roosterforme]

Adult Education Part 22 | Hangman x OC

Summary: After visiting Jessica's family in Massachusetts and his family in Texas, it's time to officially finish moving in together. It's also time for Jake to take his girlfriend on a little adventure she has always dreamed about.

Warnings: Fluff, sex in public, language, 18+

Length: 2000 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

Epilogue Part One

Three months later...

The airport in San Diego was absolutely overrun with business travelers and families on summer vacation. It seemed like there were people rushing in every direction, trying to catch connecting flights or grab their luggage and go. But Jake was in no hurry at all. He'd just left the laidback state of Texas. Tomorrow was Saturday. His girlfriend was on term break.

In fact, he missed his luggage going around the baggage carousel twice because Jessica had her lips pressed to his. "You know," he murmured after the second time, "we would already be home by now if you weren't so damn distracting."

She shook her head. "We have to stop by my apartment on the way and pick up the last few boxes."

Jake smiled. "I know. Then it's official, Baby." Her lease was ending on Monday, and they left those boxes of old textbooks and scientific journals so they could still claim she was going to be moving in, not that she essentially already had. Jake didn't want to make a poor impression on her family, but it turned out he didn't have anything to worry about. And neither did she.

"So Thanksgiving back in Massachusetts and Christmas in Texas," she murmured against his neck as she let her head rest on his shoulder. "We're going to be very busy this year."

"There's no escaping my mom now," he told her. "She's probably already crocheting a Christmas stocking with your name on it. I think she almost evaporated into thin air when she hugged you. Physical proof that her son is dating someone with a PhD who looks like a supermodel nearly took her out."

"Jake," she whined with a laugh. "Supermodels don't wear glasses or read the science joke of the day emails."

"Mine does," he insisted. "There's my bag again. Now can we please go home?"

"Absolutely," she replied as he grabbed his luggage before it could sneak by a third time. "I'm determined to cook an edible dinner one night while I'm off. Plus, I really wanted to spend this week while you're at work organizing all of my stuff at the condo."

He grinned as they exited the airport holding hands. "Actually, you're coming to work with me on Monday."

"I am? For what?"

"Well... that's a bit of a surprise."

---------------------------

Jessica watched Jake stack the three remaining boxes of her things in his arms and carry them out to his truck. She could have only managed to take them one at a time, but he even humored her barrage of questions while he went.

"When are you going to tell me what the surprise is? Will you tell me now? How will I know what to wear to base with you on Monday if you don't tell me what it's for?"

He was silent for the first part of the ride from her old neighborhood as they made their way toward the pacific coast and his condo, and she looked out the window while she tapped her foot anxiously. When he took an unexpected right turn instead of a left, she turned to look at him.

"You really want to know?" he asked, his face just gorgeous in the orange and purple light as the sun finished setting.

"Yes!"

He chuckled. "Well, I thought this would be a fun little celebration of sorts since you found out Brian isn't coming back in the fall. And I think it's something you've been wanting to experience." 

Jessica tipped her head back against the headrest and smiled. Advanced Calculus had texted her when they were at the airport in Boston about to fly to Texas, letting her know Brian took a position at the local community college. She wouldn't even have to look at him when her classes started up again next month. She had been so excited, she and Jake had very awkward but enthusiastic sex in the airplane lavatory as they flew over Pennsylvania. 

When he pulled his truck off the main road and along the bay, Jessica had to hang on as he drove down an unpaved street as the sky darkened. "Where are we going?" she asked, as they bumped along, driving parallel to a tall fence with barbed wire across the top of it.

"I want to show you something," he muttered, coming to a stop between the rocky bay beach and the fence. "There's the hangar, and there's my jet."

Jessica looked to where he was pointing, and she could barely make out HANGMAN printed across the side of one of the aircrafts. "Oh!" she gasped, realizing she'd never even visited him on base before. 

"Come here, and I'll tell you the surprise," he crooned, killing the engine and unbuckling her seatbelt. He coaxed her to his lap and said, "If you want to fly with me on Monday, I got special permission to take you up since you're a physics professor."

"What?!" Jessica's eyes went wide. "Are you serious?"

His smile was soft and genuine as he nodded. "Does that mean you still want to do it?"

"Jake!" She pushed his shoulders back against the seat and shook him slightly as he laughed. "I wrote my PhD thesis on jet propulsion in military aircrafts! Of course I want to fly with you!"

"I know," he drawled as he smirked. "I read your thesis, remember? Barely understood a word, but I did read it."

"Smart Boy," she moaned as she kissed him. "I can't wait for Monday." As she raked her fingers back through his hair, his hands came to rest on her hips. She kissed and nipped at him, pausing to say, "I'm so excited."

When Jessica's tongue slipped between his lips, she rolled her hips against him. He groaned and cupped her butt, guiding her to do it again. He was so obviously hard in his jeans now, and she didn't want to wait until they got home. "Feels like you're excited, too," she said with a grin before she licked his lip.

"Fuck, Jessica. If you're like this today, you'll be a mess on Monday after we actually fly together."

She gasped and nodded. "Oh my god. You're right."

"I know I am, Baby. You'll be dripping wet for me by then."

When she clenched around nothing as his hand snaked up the front of her shirt, she admitted, "I already am." She ground down against his cock and whispered, "You know how we had that quickie the other day way out on your parents property?"

Jake moaned and said, "I'll remember that for the rest of my life. Bending you over the tailgate of my dad's old truck."

"Well," she murmured, licking a stripe from his chin slowly back to his ear. "It's pretty dark now. You could bend me over your own tailgate."

Jake's hand was opening his door before she finished her sentence, and he hauled her back behind his truck. He was a little rough, pulling her against him and making her stumble as he dropped the tailgate down. He kissed her lips and rubbed the front of his jeans against hers before he said, "It'll have to be quick again. Before any of the guards drive by."

"Okay," she agreed, and then Jake had her pinned down from behind as she made a surprised noise. She let her head rest on her folded arms as she turned toward the fence. It was now too dark to see the hangar or any of the jets as Jake reached around and undid the front of her jeans. He yanked them down along with her sage green thong before unzipping his own pants and letting his cock rest against her butt.

"You weren't kidding, Smart Girl," he whispered, teasing her clit and running his finger through her slit. "You're soaked."

The evening air was cool on her bare skin, and when he separated her with his long fingers, she shivered for so many reasons. Then he connected them together, plunging inside her as she cried out.

"Shhh," he warned, and she bit her lip. "Be a good girl. I'll make it fast."

"Oh god," she groaned softly, her whole body bouncing against the tailgate with each of his rapid thrusts. She couldn't stop the little grunts and needy sounds she made for him every time his hips slammed into her butt, but he was moaning her name softly too as he fucked her. 

He just went harder and harder, and Jessica had to hold onto the tailgate with quivering fingers as he hit the spot that made her shake for him. "Jake," she whispered as he leaned down over her back as she came. But he wasn't done yet.

His voice was rough like the gravel beneath her feet. "I love you. I love fucking you. I can't wait to take you home. I can't wait to fly with you." He grabbed her hips and drove himself deep as she continued to clench softly around him, and then he came too. And this time she had to remind him to be quiet.

"Jake, you're so loud," she warned as his thrusting grew shallow. "And I see headlights," she hissed.

"Fuck," he growled, pulling out of her and sending his cum dribbling down the insides of her thighs as she yanked up her underwear and jeans. There was definitely a security vehicle headed past the hangar on some sort of patrol route. "Let's get out of here," he said, pulling her toward the driver's side door. 

Jessica scampered inside, barely making it to the passenger seat before Jake had the engine roaring to life and the truck shifted into reverse. Deftly and with a smile on his face, he reversed back down the bumpy road like it was nothing. "That was a little close," he said as he slowed down before making it back to the pavement.

She bit her lip and said, "What if I said I kind of love tailgate quickies?"

He glanced at her as he slowed at a stop sign. "Well then I would say I'll come up with a list of places we can sneak off to."

Her hand stroked his thigh as she said, "Get to work on that."

-------------------------

The fact that Jake managed to pull this off after weeks and weeks of planning left a smile on his face. On Monday, he watched as Phoenix helped Jessica into a flight suit in the hangar, and then he handed her a helmet. She was grinning at him as she slipped it onto her head. "You look like you're ready to go, Dr. Reed," he said as he fastened it into place for her. 

"I'm so ready, Lieutenant Seresin," she replied, bouncing slightly on her booted feet as she ran her fingers along the HANGMAN patch on his own flight suit. "How many Gs do you think we'll hit? Can we roll upside down?"

"Jesus," he laughed. "Next thing you'll be leaving me in the fall to go to flight school."

She pouted and said, "My eyesight is too poor."

He kissed the tip of her nose before picking up his own helmet. "Not to be a WSO."

"Oh my god, Jake! You're right!"

She asked him a million questions in a row as she followed him across the tarmac, and he could only answer about half of them for her. "Why don't you tell me, Reedy," he finally said as she climbed the first rung of the ladder. "You're way smarter than me."

She turned back and looked at him. "Maybe just a little bit. But you know how to do the one thing I'll never get to do. Actually fly this thing!"

He placed a hand on her waist, giving her a squeeze through the rough fabric. "I just want you to relax and enjoy yourself. I'll try to answer any questions you have when we're in bed later. How does that sound?"

She nodded at him as her eyes went wide. "That actually sounds great. Let's go." She then climbed the ladder in record time, leaving Jake laughing on the tarmac before he followed after her. 

He would be happy to follow her as long as she would let him.

--------------------------

Jessica Reed is just winning so hard now. Fuck off, Brian. One more filthy part of this story to come. Thanks for reading! And thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 23

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[wheelsgoroundincircles]

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

This 1953 Muntz Jet convertible underwent a three-year custom build under previous ownership, and it was purchased by the seller in 2021. The car is powered by a fuel-injected 5.7-liter LT1 V8 engine paired with a four-speed automatic transmission and a Ford 9″ rear end, and it is finished in Apple Pearl with a white Carson-style removable top over gray snakeskin-style Naugahyde upholstery. Features include custom bodywork, an Art Morrison frame, power-assisted steering, four-wheel disc brakes, airbag suspension, Painless Performance wiring, and more modified and fabricated details. This custom-built Muntz is now offered with a copy of Rodder’s Journal magazine featuring a story on the build and a clean California title in the name of the seller’s business.

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

The steel, aluminum, and fiberglass body is mounted on an Art Morrison ladder frame that was boxed and finished in semi-gloss black, and the floor was raised 3″. The exterior was repainted in a Sherwin Williams two-stage Apple Pearl mixed by the late Stan Betz. Features include a chopped Duvall-style windshield, 1950 Chevrolet headlights, dual Appleton spotlights, 1951 Ford Victoria side windows, and a white removable Carson-style top fabricated to match the height of the chopped windshield. Additional equipment includes color-matched rear fender skirts and chrome bumpers. Wear from fitting the top is noted on the rear deck.

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

Steel wheels sourced from a 1976 Dodge measure 15″ and are mounted with Cadillac Sombrero-style covers and whitewall tires. A matching spare fitted with a BFGoodrich Silvertown tire is mounted within a rear-mounted Continental-style chrome carrier. A Mustang II front end accommodates power rack-and-pinion steering , and the car rides on an electronically-adjustable Air Ride Technologies airbag suspension system along with 2” lowered front spindles, Strange Engineering tube shocks, a rear Panhard bar, and front and rear sway bars. The seller reports that the front control arm bushings were recently replaced.

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

Braking is handled by GM G-body-sourced calipers matched with Ford Granada discs up front and Ford SVO-specification calipers and discs at the rear.

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

The cabin was customized by Jim’s Auto Trim of San Diego, California, and features Glide bucket seats and a rear bench trimmed in gray snakeskin-style Naugahyde upholstery, along with matching treatments for the dash trim, headliner, and door panels. Additional equipment includes a 1952 Lincoln steering wheel mounted to a shortened Lincoln steering column, gray cut-pile carpet, and a Pioneer stereo housed within a custom center cubby.

The engine-turned “Hollywood” instrument cluster houses Stewart Warner gauges consisting of an 8k-rpm tachometer, a 160-mph speedometer, and auxiliary readings for fuel level, battery charge, oil pressure, and water temperature. The five-digit odometer displays 25k miles, though total chassis mileage is unknown. A Lokar pedal assembly was fitted during the build.

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

The Corvette-sourced 5.7-liter LT1 V8 features a polished fuel intake manifold along with billet aluminum valve covers, and additional features include an Opti-Spark distributor, a Griffin aluminum radiator, and a wiring loom sourced from Painless Performance Wiring. A set of long-tube headers are connected to a 2.5″ exhaust system equipped with dual Dynaflow mufflers. The seller reports that the oil was recently changed.

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

Power is routed to the rear wheels via a four-speed 4L60E automatic transmission and a Ford 9″ rear end with with 3.55:1 gears and Strange Engineering 31-spline axles. Additional photos of the underside, drivetrain, and suspension components are presented in the gallery below.

Custom 1953 Muntz Jet Convertible

The car was featured in issue #36 of Rodders Journal magazine

[zippyskyfalls]

Callista Marin: The Eris Conspiracy

okay, I originally wasn’t going to post this here on Tumblr, this is a very private and personal project and only one other person I know is meant to see this, but I really like how the first chapter turned out! Thanks to that, I’ve decided to put this up on Tumblr in case anyone is actually interested in my work!!! Thank you to my amazing friend @protagaster who read this before anyone else, your words always help boost my mood and it’s truly been a pleasure being your friend

shoutout to the super cool @circe-puppeteer who makes me realize that I have never had an original experience in my life

and enough Stalling, hope you Enjoy what i’ve written!

(ye, i’m a Riordanverse fan, can you tell?)

----------

Look, I think we both know why you’re reading this Journal. You’re reading this because your interest in Greek Mythology and Modern Spins on it got you to pick up this book and see how it may compare to other works

I won’t try to shoo you away from this book because I know for a fact you won’t listen. I just want you to know that if I were you, and this story started getting relatable, i’d close this book.

It obviously won’t seem so relatable at the start, but hey, what do I know? Enjoy!!!

My name is Callista Marin, i’m a 14 year old girl living in San Diego, the current year is 1991.

I didn’t exactly have a normal life. I mostly grew up with my dad, traveling the world! We’ve gone to about 8 different countries, Brazil, Uruguai, Argentina, Ireland, Thailand, New Zealand, Australia, and Chile. We got back to the US about 2 years ago.

My father has always been there for me, he’s the one who fed me, kept me safe, kept me warm. I’m not sure I would have made it this far if it wasn’t for him.

He’s always been my biggest supporter, the man who paid for my art supplies even when we didn’t have the money, the man who taught me how to get past an art block, the man who taught me practically everything I know!

It’s always just been me and him… yeah, I should probably explain that.

You may have noticed that my mother hasn’t been mentioned yet! She’s… out of the picture. I never really met her, my dad says I have her eyes. Just basic brown, the most common of the colors. I personally don’t think I need to know about my mother, and I don’t want to know anything about my mother.

She had already made her choice the moment she left my dad to take care of me on his own. Even if she wanted to form a relationship with me, she missed her chance.

Alright, next order of business, my school.

For the past year, I've been attending San Diego’s Private School for Gifted Children, the name practically tells you everything you need to know. I had gotten in thanks to a given scholarship I earnt thanks to an art exhibition in which I won first place. I’m definitely better at some things than others when it comes to the school work.

The school takes education very seriously, any student with lower than a 75% grade isn’t coming back next semester.

Maths? Big no-no. Art? That’s where I shine! It’s all i’m good at, it’s all I can do. I don’t really get along with the kids in the school, they aren’t BAD people… I just don’t know how to make friends.

That was until this august.

“Please settle down, students.” Mrs Rivers began. She’d been a teacher at this school for 17 years, one of the oldest teachers here.

Mrs Rivers is a tall white lady with Brown Frizzy hair and looks like a hippie straight from the 80’s, a long, flowy skirt, a faded Fleetwood Mac t-shirt barely visible under her crocheted cardigan. She’s fun, I guess, but I personally think she tries too hard to make students like her.

“First off, I’d like to welcome you back from Summer break! I know everybody’s been busy getting that new Transparent landline phone I’ve seen appearing around stores”. A few students in the class stared at her with concern. I could hear Martha Stein, the dark-skinned blonde girl with braids who sat behind me, grumbling under her breath, something about the last generation needing to get with the times. 

I could definitely see her point. While I do think it’s unfair to judge Mrs Rivers for trying… it did make me cringe a bit.

“Second of all, we have a new student joining our class. Mr Jerrons, would you like to introduce yourself?” There was a brief silence before the classroom door creaked open. A boy stepped in, his left hand curling a strand of dark brown hair around his finger. “It’s uh– Herrans.”

His voice was soft, but there was something too even about it, like he was measuring every syllable.

The boy had short, curly brown hair that reached just below his ears. His eyes dark and his skin bronze. He wore a split red and black tank top tee with a black jacket with hot pink accents on top. His long, dark, Baggy Jeans made the sandals which were definitely not dress code approved barely visible

He wasn’t just good-looking—he was beautiful. The kind of beauty that made your brain short-circuit for a second because it didn’t seem quite real.

The other girls must have noticed it too since suddenly, the new kid already seemed to have eyes on him. Not just girls, even some guys, too. It was a rare sighting to see that.

Venus seemed used to it, too. He stood there patiently, waiting for the murmurs to settle, like this happened all the time.

“Alright,” he continued. “My name is Venus Martinez Areia Herrens. I’m fifteen years old, and I’m here on a scholarship. I, uh… have a deep interest in history and the arts.”

That made me blink. Fifteen?

He didn’t look fifteen. Fourteen, at most. Maybe even thirteen.

I wasn’t the only one who caught that. I saw Martha Stein’s eyes narrow slightly, and another student—Jonas broth, I think—whispered something to his friend.

“Wonderful! Welcome, Mr. Hairline.” “It’s Herrens–” “You may sit beside Miss Marin for the remainder of the semester.”

The second the words had been spoken, I melted to the back of my seat. I knew the reason why, of course. I wasn’t exactly surprised. Mrs. Rivers always paired new students with me thanks to how quiet I normally was and knew I wouldn’t make much of a distraction.

But now, with literally every student’s eyes following him to the empty seat next to mine, I wanted to disappear.

Most – if not all – students turned around and stared at the empty seat. Venus walked calmly, setting his bag down without a word. I didn't focus much on the lesson, something about the American revolution.

He just kind of… sat there. Unnervingly. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thunk he’d stopped breathing!

Them suddenly; Tap, tap, tap,

I stiffened. Someone was poking my shoulder

I turned my head slightly. Venus was watching me with an easy expression, holding out a folded piece of paper. Unfolding it carefully, I saw two words, written in slanted, careful handwriting:

Callista, right?

I frowned slightly, nodding. Was that really all he wanted to ask?

Venus flipped the paper over and scribbled something else before passing it back.

'Nice 2 Meet you'

It was oddly polite. Too… intentional? New kids usually waited a while before making conversation. He was getting straight to the point.

I stared at the note for a second before responding in my usual way: I pointed at the words and held up two fingers—same here.

I noticed from the corner of my eyes… He held a small smile on his lips. It was an odd feeling; the feeling of somebody you barely knew going out of their way to meet you, like a distant cousin you only met once at a family gathering

I didn’t mind it, Venus seemed like a cool guy!

Which was why, at the end of the class at hand, I had offered him a seat next to me during lunch.

[vegaspam]

until next time / part two / raven to bradley

this is not a full fic! this is the text-post version of the letter photos from my fic over on my main blog @vivalas-vega that you can read here

Bradley,

I wish I had more to update you on - things have been pretty boring around here. I did have a drunken facetime with Nat and I feel better about everything. Still processing, but I’ll be fine. I have been channeling it into my writing - between these letters and all the journaling my hand is cramping like no other.

My trip home was as to be expected - my parents send their best and you unfortunately have a very ugly blanket my mom knitted for you awaiting your return. Your parents’ headstones were completely overgrown and I absolutely didn’t yell at the groundskeeper but we did have a chat about maintaining the grave of an American hero. I know they wouldn’t care about weeds, but I don’t know where else to put my love so just let me wig out about the landscaping. I had a good talk with Goose and after talking with your mom the biggest gust of wind kicked up. It was probably a coincidence but I like to believe it was her way of giving me a hug - it felt the same. 

I’ve been thinking about your offer - San Diego does sound really great right now but I don’t know how feasible it is to actually go. I made the mistake of mentioning it to Natasha and now it’s all she’s texting me about. It somehow feels like the right and wrong time to get out of the city… but, I’ll bring it up with Miranda in our meeting this week and see what she says. I know I should be more spontaneous and just go for it but you know that’s never been my strong suit. I’m incredibly surprised your guest room still isn’t set up, I helped you furnish it over facetime months ago. Has it all just been sitting there in boxes this whole time? Very unlike you, Mr. Bradshaw.

I don’t know if Jake told you but my last letter wound up on his pillow and he wrote me to apologize for reading it. I know you have your opinions about him but I found it kind of endearing and I’m going to write him back. Figured I’d warn you in case you see my handwriting on an envelope that isn’t addressed to you. It seems I’m adopting another naval aviator and I’m contemplating opening a business - I’m sure there’s a market for lonely military personnel, however the more I think about it the more I realize it could get really gross, really fast.

Did you like the book? Natasha read it too so maybe we could get a book club going. I’ll start workshopping some names - I’m not sure how to incorporate Dagger Squad and literature but I’ll figure it out. I wish you hadn’t referred to it as free porn but you’re welcome. I’m not sure why you’re disturbed I’m considering those needs as well as your snack and fresh sock needs. I'm sure there are people on that ship that would love to have such a considerate friend on the outside. That made it sound like you’re in prison, but the lack of contact and these letters kind of makes it feel that way on my end. I’m only doing my part because frankly I don’t know how any of you survive on those ships so long, I think I’d lose my mind. Are there any cute girls you’ve noticed around? Could be a nice story to fall in love on deployment. Could also be my next big book idea, so get to it so I have some real world inspiration.

I promise I really will think about San Diego - it would be nice to be able to welcome you home. These letters don’t do a lot for the whole missing you thing. The more I mull it over the more I realize I really need to get out of the city for a while.

Miss and love you lots (also, I’m not using that paper anymore. It’s awful, I donated it to my friends classroom),

Raven

[dailyanarchistposts]

Footnotes, part 9

[741] Associated Press, December 4, 2000

[742] The New York Times, July 20, 2002

[743] Multinational Monitor

[744] Chicago Business

[745] San Francisco Chronicle, December 8, 2001

[746] PR Newswire, November, 2000

[747] Greenpeace USA

[748] The Atlanta Journal and Constitution, Aug 10, 2001

[749] The AP State & Local Wire, January 25, 2001

[750] San Francisco Gate, January 13, 2001

[751] The Boston Herald, January 26, 2001

[752] Canadian Dimension, March 1, 2001

[753] The Associated Press, January 28, 2001

[754] The Hartford Courant

[755] The New York Times, February 21, 2001

[756] The San Francisco Chronicle

[757] The Associated Press, April 5, 2001

[758] The Associated Press, February 2, 2001

[759] The Tampa Tribune

[760] The AP State & Local Wire, February 14, 2001

[761] The New York Times, February 8, 2001

[762] The Indianapolis Star

[763] UPI, March 17, 2001

[764] The Associated Press, March 14, 2001

[765] The Associated Press, April 16, 2001

[766] The Associated Press, April 11, 2001

[767] Associated Press, April 25, 2001

[768] The Boston Globe, April 12, 2001

[769] The Tampa Tribune, April 18, 2001

[770] The Michigan Daily, April 10, 2001

[771] Star Tribune

[772] The Boston Globe, May 28, 2001

[773] The Chicago Tribune, July 2, 2002

[774] The Houston Chronicle, April 12, 2001

[775] The Arkansas Democrat-Gazette, April 25, 2001

[776] Bloomberg News, May 22, 2001

[777] Reuters May 31, 2001

[778] The San Francisco Chronicle, May 12, 2001

[779] Associated Press, May 24, 2001

[780] Associated Press

[781] Reuters, June 30, 2001

[782] The Charleston Gazette, June 22, 2001

[783] ChainStore.com

[784] Reuters, July 3, 2001

[785] The New York Times, June 7, 2001

[786] New York Times, June 23, 2001

[787] Chicago Tribune, June 21, 2001

[788] The San Francisco Chronicle, Nov. 1, 2001

[789] CNN, June 15, 2001

[790] Associated Press, June 5, 2001

[791] The Chicago Tribune, July 4, 2001

[792] Winston-Salem Journal, July 7, 2001

[793] The Washington Post, July 2001

[794] The New York Times, July 25, 2001

[795] The Seattle Post Intelligencer, July 17, 2001

[796] Richmond County Medical Society, August,2002

[797] Associated Press, Aug. 17, 2001

[798] Associated Press, Aug. 21, 2001

[799] Knight-Ridder/Tribune, Aug 30, 2001

[800] The Associated Press, August 1, 2001

[801] O Globo via Fin.Times World Media, Sept. 12, 2001

[802] New York Times, Sept. 26, 2001

[803] The Seattle Times, Sept. 22, 2001

[804] The San Diego Union-Tribune, September 21, 2001

[805] “On Class Conflict in General,” by Gustav Schmoller, American Journal of Sociology, volume 20 (1914–15) pp. 504–531.

[806] U.S. Federal Trade Commission

[807] The Standard

[808] Multinational Monitor, July/ August 1999

[809] Multinational Monitor, May 1997

[810] Chattanooga Times, June 10, 2001

[beardedmrbean]

California’s largest daily newspaper, the Los Angeles Times, announced on Tuesday that it is laying off at least 115 people -roughly a quarter of its staff- as it continues to hemorrhage money.

The layoffs were announced in a newsroom-wide email from L.A. Times president and Chief Operating Officer Chris Argentieri, according to reporter Matt Pearce.

“This total, while devastating, is nonetheless far lower than the total number of Guild layoffs initially expected last week,” Pearce posted on X, formerly Twitter.

Last Friday, members of the Los Angeles Times Guild, the union representing newspaper staffers, staged a one-day walkout to protest the anticipated job cuts.

“Slashing a quarter of the newsroom is devastating by any measure – to our members and their families, to our morale, to the quality of our journalism, to the bond with our audience, and to the communities that depend on our work,” the Guild said in a statement. “We believe our decision to go on strike saved scores of newsroom jobs today.”

Tuesday’s layoffs come after the paper slashed 74 positions in July, the union said.

In an article published in the L.A. Times on Tuesday, the newspaper’s owner, Dr. Patrick Soon-Shiong, said the cuts were needed to account for losses totaling $30 million to $40 million a year due to declining subscriptions and advertising revenue.

“Today’s decision is painful for all, but it is imperative that we act urgently and take steps to build a sustainable and thriving paper for the next generation. We are committed to doing so,” Soon-Shiong said.

Among the senior editors laid off were the paper’s Washington bureau chief and deputy Washington bureau chief, its business editor and music editor.

L.A. Times video game industry reporter Sarah Parvini was also let go.

“It’s been an honor to work at the paper for nearly a decade, launching a video game beat, helping to win Pulitzers, covering diverse communities. To my colleagues, [the L.A. Times Guild], readers: Thank you,” Parvini tweeted.

Soon-Shiong��and his family purchased the L.A. Times and the San Diego Union-Tribune from Tribune Publishing for $500 million in 2018.

Layoffs and buyouts have hit a wide swath of the news industry over the past year. The Washington Post, NPR, CNN and Vox Media are among the many companies hit.

An estimated 2,681 news industry jobs were lost through the end of November, according to the employment firm of Challenger, Gray and Christmas. That was more than the full years of 2022 and 2021.

[remembertheplunge]

My sister Zoe's journal entry re: my partner Jim's death

I am now on the couch in Atwater watching Big Love and tired of watching TV with Mom because she is drunk and tired and cannot follow the plot. She wanders off. I wait. Wait. Explain. Explain.

I’d like to finish it. (watching the show)

What a long, long day.

I cannot believe Jim is gone. 

So this is family. He drove me nuts, but, I never wanted this. His empty spot.

He will not be working in his gardens, hunting for treasures at yard sales, going to the farmer’s market. Demanding Lew love only Jim. 

He was a solar eclipse. He came along and Lew disappeared to me.

The distance so far I had decided not to attend another Thanksgiving. I wanted out of this family, perhaps all families. I’d just have animals and books. People are tiring me out.

Oh Jim, I did not want this. You had such a strong life force. You died because of a faulty part. Otherwise, you were fine. But, that is how frail bodies are.

To see you in bed in the living room, (awake) a wake. I thought I saw your left eye move. Just for a second

 When I first entered the room, the house told the story that things had changed.

Housework had fallen far behind.

The look of disease, narrowing of hallways with book cases, one bed five feet deep in clothes. 

Wine glasses tucked into book cases and on tables  all around Jim in the house.

I felt ill, not sure if I was going to cry or throw up.

While we were there, lividity set into his yellow, jaundiced skin. 

He was quiet and still. So unlike Jim who was not quiet or still.

I am wondering how Lew will go on?

They had their jobs to do, how will Lew go on without Jim?

I guess he just will.

As do all widows and widowers.

Life keeps coming at you.

At Lew’s for Jim: (People who attended Jim’s wake)

Jim’s friend from Oakland, a blonde. We hung a butterfly flag for Jim.

A neighbor who is a nurse

A lawyer who lived in San Diego

Another lawyer took Lew’s cases today

Many phone calls

Mom and I brought 2 bottles of wine and yellow Calla Lilies, a beautiful plant.

Jim’s gone and I cannot believe it.

Yet, he is gone.

End of entry

Note:

After my partner Jim died in our house on 9/09/2009, I kept his body for a day and threw a wake party. A lot of people came including my sister Zoe and my mother. Two of my lawyer friends helped me bath Jim and dress him. He had gone into full rigor mortis, meaning his body was stiff or stone like. That’s what my sister was referring to in her journal entry above when she wrote about lividity.

I brought my sister’s journals back with me after she died in May 2023. I didn’t know she kept journals until just before she died. My law practice has kept me busy since then. I have not had a chance to look at her journals until now.

I had never read the above entry until today. I had no idea it existed. As I was typing it for the blog, although I’d read some of the initial sentences earlier, I had not read the whole entry. I was thus like you, new to it..

I’m amazed to see Jim’s death through her eyes. The journal allowed this miracle to happen.

[ruggiethethuggie]

for @eatbugsrugster - June 14 * reference is this post cause i have a big ole birthday encyclopedia. post is not original thoughts. excerpts will be cited.

June 14th The Birthday of the Supervisor | "I am living the dream."

Life Lesson: Resisting the urge to always take charge. The Way Forward: To understand that sometimes the only way to empower people is for them to learn from their own mistakes. Luck Maker: Treat all people, whatever their status, as important- a less important person today might one day hold the key to your good fortune.

Those born on June 14 often have a desire to take the lead. They have the ability to observe what is going on around them, and sum up quickly what needs to be done and who should do it. Their self-confidence means they find it impossible to stand on the sidelines. With strong personal opinions and a compulsion to take action to reach their goals, they are capable of outstanding success. They make charismatic leaders, but their actions can be perceived as bossy and abrupt, and, whenever challenged, they can become confrontational. It is important they make a concerted effort to become aware of the damaging impact their blunt force can arouse in others. Born CEOs, they love all things to do with the media and can excel in publishing, music, film, journalism, videos and influencing. They make gifted business leaders and their competitive nature draws them to sport, sales, the military, education, politics, social-media influencing, commerce, entrepreneurship and business. They should ensure they allow themselves plenty of time to relax and switch off and that they take vacations instead of working through them. For self care, wearing, meditating on and surrounding yourself with shades of green will encourage you to find a balance between your own feelings and the feelings of others. The lives of these people are busy and full of admirers, and their loved ones often feel they have no time for them. Until the age of 37 the focus is on emotional security, and they try to develop a greater awareness of and consideration for the feelings of others. After 37 they have even greater self-confidence and need to ensure their directness does not tip over into arrogance, as this alienates others. Once they learn to respect the sensitivities of others, they have the potential to be outstanding supervisors, leaders and contributors to whatever field they choose to devote their forthright opinions and common sense intellect to. Once they have learned the difference between opinion and fact, their destiny is to do what they do best: lead, motivate and inspire others.

© Excerpt Cite: Francis-Cheung, Theresa. “June 14.” The Encyclopedia of Birthdays, Thunder Bay Press, San Diego, CA, 2022, pp. 237–237.

[aisharoy16]

Healing with Colors: How Adults Can Use Art to Process Emotions

Life can be a whirlwind of emotions, from the highs of joy to the lows of stress and sadness. For adults, juggling work, relationships, and personal challenges often leaves little time for self-reflection or emotional healing. That’s where art steps in as a transformative and therapeutic tool. Whether you’re painting on a blank canvas or simply doodling in a notebook, art provides a safe space to explore, express, and process emotions.

Art isn’t just for artists—it’s for anyone seeking inner peace and clarity. Enrolling in an art class for adults in San Diego can open doors to creative expression and emotional growth. Let’s dive into the healing power of colors and how adults can use art to process their emotions.

1. The Connection Between Art and Emotions

Art is deeply intertwined with our emotions. Colors, shapes, and patterns serve as visual languages that reflect what words often cannot.

Color Psychology: Colors evoke feelings and moods. For instance, blue can be calming, red can evoke passion, and yellow can bring joy. When you engage with colors in art, you’re directly tapping into your emotions.

Nonverbal Expression: Many adults struggle to articulate their feelings verbally. Art offers an alternative, nonverbal way to communicate and release pent-up emotions.

Example: A person feeling overwhelmed might use bold, chaotic strokes of dark colors to convey stress, leading to a sense of relief once the emotion is externalized.

2. How Art Promotes Emotional Healing

Engaging in art can help adults work through difficult emotions in several ways:

Releasing Stress: The act of drawing, painting, or sculpting can be meditative, helping to lower stress levels and promote relaxation.

Processing Trauma: Art allows individuals to revisit painful experiences from a safe perspective, fostering emotional release and understanding.

Building Resilience: Over time, creating art strengthens emotional resilience by teaching patience, self-acceptance, and adaptability.

Fun Fact: Studies have shown that even a simple 45-minute art session can significantly reduce cortisol levels, the hormone associated with stress.

3. Techniques for Using Art to Process Emotions

You don’t need to be an expert to benefit from art. Here are a few techniques anyone can try:

a. Color Journaling

Create a visual diary where you use colors to represent your daily emotions. For example, green could symbolize calm, while red might signify frustration.

b. Abstract Painting

Let your emotions guide your brush. Don’t focus on creating a “perfect” piece—just focus on how the colors and shapes feel as you paint.

c. Mandala Coloring

Mandalas are intricate patterns often associated with mindfulness. Coloring these patterns can help you feel centered and focused.

d. Freeform Doodling

Pick up a pen and start doodling without any specific goal. This can be surprisingly effective in uncovering subconscious emotions.

4. The Role of an Art Class in Emotional Healing

While creating art independently is beneficial, joining an art class for adults offers unique advantages:

Guidance from Experts: Skilled instructors can teach techniques and provide insights into the therapeutic aspects of art.

Supportive Environment: Sharing your art with others in a judgment-free space fosters a sense of community and emotional connection.

Exploring New Mediums: From watercolors to mixed media, classes expose you to a variety of materials and methods to keep your creativity flowing.

5. Art as a Lifeline

Art has transformed the lives of countless adults. Take Maria, for example. After losing a loved one, she joined an art class for adults as a way to cope with grief. Through painting, Maria found a sense of peace and a way to honor her loved one’s memory.

Another example is Jason, a busy professional who turned to art as a stress-relief activity. Over time, he discovered that painting gave him clarity and helped him approach challenges at work with a calmer mindset.

Inspiration: Your story could be the next one to unfold on a canvas. All it takes is the first step.

6. The Science Behind Art Therapy

Research highlights the therapeutic effects of art:

Enhances Emotional Regulation: Creating art helps regulate the amygdala, the brain’s emotional processing center, reducing anxiety.

Boosts Dopamine Levels: Completing an art project triggers dopamine release, which promotes feelings of happiness and accomplishment.

Improves Focus: Engaging in detailed art activities enhances cognitive function and mindfulness.

7. Getting Started with Art for Healing

If you’re ready to embrace the healing power of art, here’s how you can begin:

Choose Your Medium: Start with something simple like colored pencils or watercolors.

Set Aside Time: Dedicate at least 30 minutes a day or week for creative exploration.

Consider Professional Guidance: Joining an art class for adults can help you stay motivated and explore your potential.

Why Choose Art for Heart?

At Art for Heart, we understand that art is more than just a hobby—it’s a journey of self-discovery and healing. Our art classes for adults are designed to provide a nurturing space where you can express yourself freely, learn new skills, and connect with like-minded individuals.

Expert instructors who inspire and guide you.

A welcoming community that encourages sharing and growth.

A variety of classes tailored to all skill levels, from beginners to seasoned artists.

Start Your Healing Journey Today

Discover the magic of colors and unlock the healing power of art at Art for Heart. Our art classes for adults in Rancho Bernardo, San Diego, offer the perfect environment to relax, express, and grow.

📞 Call us at 619-206-8862🌐 Visit us at www.artforheartinfo.com📍 Location: Rancho Bernardo, San Diego

Take the first step to reconnect with your emotions and creativity—because art is for everyone.

[hlas-slobody]

ALLATRA: Vedecká komunita a verejnosť sa stretli na podujatí v New Yorku, aby diskutovali o klimatických otázkach

V centre New Yorku sa uskutočnilo stretnutie, na ktorom ako hlavní rečníci vystúpili Dr. Anastasia Pashigreva a Dr. John Ahn, zástupcovia vedeckej komunity projektu Building Society. Témou diskusie bola akútna klimatická kríza a možné spôsoby jej prekonania.

Projekt „Konštruktívna spoločnosť“ je partnerským projektom medzinárodného sociálneho hnutia ALLATRA

Hlavnými tézami stretnutia boli:

- Rastúci počet prírodných katastrof

- Vplyv ľudskej činnosti na klímu

- Inovatívne prístupy k riešeniu klimatických problémov

Osobitná pozornosť účastníkov bola venovaná štúdiu sibírskeho plášťa - jedinečného geologického javu, ktorý môže výrazne zmeniť vedecké chápanie klimatických procesov.

ALLATRA: Vedecká komunita a verejnosť sa stretli na podujatí v New Yorku, aby diskutovali o klimatických otázkach

Dr. Anastasia Pashigreva citát:

„Globálne výzvy si vyžadujú spoločnú akciu. Klimatické zmeny nie sú len hrozbou, ale aj šancou spojiť sily a vytvoriť nové príležitosti.“

Program podujatia zahŕňal:

- Čistenie oceánov od mikroplastov a nanoplastov

- Prispôsobenie komunít zmene klímy

- Podpora medzinárodnej vedeckej spolupráce

Osobitný dôraz sa kládol na jedinečnú úlohu projektu Creation Society pri napredovaní vedeckej komunikácie. Napriek prekážkam a informačnému tlaku organizácia naďalej otvorene diskutuje o kľúčových klimatických otázkach a podporuje vedecký výskum.

ALLATRA: Vedecká komunita a verejnosť sa stretli na podujatí v New Yorku, aby diskutovali o klimatických otázkach

Stojí za zmienku, že spoločnosť The Building Society narazila pri distribúcii tlačovej správy o nedávnom podujatí o klimatických zmenách na nečakaný problém. Spoločnosť EIN Presswire (platforma na distribúciu tlačových správ a noviniek) náhle ukončila svoju dlhoročnú spoluprácu so spoločnosťou The Building Society a bez vysvetlenia zablokovala distribúciu tlačovej správy.

Samostatne sa uvádza, že organizácia sa stretla s neočakávaným problémom pri distribúcii tlačovej správy o podujatí, ktoré sa týkalo témy zmeny klímy. Tlačová správa a platforma na šírenie správ: EIN Presswire neočakávane zastavila distribúciu tlačovej správy projektu Stavebná spoločnosť bez vysvetlenia.

ALLATRA: Vedecká komunita a verejnosť sa stretli na podujatí v New Yorku, aby diskutovali o otázkach klímy.

Medzi dobrovoľníkmi Spoločnosti pre budovanie existujú vážne obavy, že to môže súvisieť s prebiehajúcou dezinformačnou kampaňou namierenou proti Spoločnosti pre budovanie a priamo spojenou s prácou ruských spravodajských služieb, čo poukazuje najmä na možnú účasť FSB na manipulácii informácií v médiách a potláčaní vedeckého diskurzu prostredníctvom stratégií informačnej vojny.

Existuje možnosť, že EIN Presswire bol ovplyvnený týmito koordinovanými snahami o zabránenie vedeckej komunikácii a pokrývaniu výskumu klímy.

V reakcii na tieto výzvy spoločnosť The Building Society nadviazala spoluprácu s platformou Accesswire, ktorá je známa svojím záväzkom k slobode prejavu a objektívnemu šíreniu informácií.

Zborn��k z podujatia je uverejnený na stránke Apnews.

(Scientists and Community Unite to Address Climate Change at NYC Climate Awareness Event) Yahoo Finance, (Scientists and Community Unite to Address Climate Change at NYC Climate Awareness Event) Fox47, (Scientists and Community Unite to Address Climate Change at NYC Climate Awareness Event) International Business Times, (International Business Times) Boston Herald, (Boston Herald) Digital Journal, (Scientists and Community Unite to Address Climate Change at NYC Climate Awareness Event) СBS3, (Scientists and Community Unite to Address Climate Change at NYC Climate Awareness Event) ABC 9, (Scientists and Community Unite to Address Climate Change at NYC Climate Awareness Event) Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, (Pittsburgh Post-Gazette) Sign On San Diego, (About Us ) The Chronicle Journal, (User) Canadian Insider (https://www.canadianinsider.com/scientists-and-community-unite-to-address-climate-change-at-nyc-climate-awareness-event)

AP News (Scientists and Community Unite to Address Climate Change at NYC Climate Awareness Event)

Scientists and Community Unite to Address Climate Change at NYC Climate Awareness Event

NEW YORK CITY, NY / ACCESSWIRE / January 2, 2025 / Creative Society, a global non-profit organization dedicated to climate research, hosted an informative event on December 28th that brought together scientists and community members to confront the urgent challenges of climate change.

[coochiequeens]

Dylan mulvaney wasn't a nobody before the trans thing. His father had enough money to open a cookie business where he just gave the cookies away as some feel good charity. Anyone who could afford to do that has money. My guess is the trans thing was fear of aging as a twink.

"Controversial Budweiser-pitching transgender TikTok star Dylan Mulvaney is deeply rooted in San Diego’s Republican old-boy network, reports Rupert Murdoch’s New York Post. “Her grandfather, James Mulvaney Sr., who died at age 87 in 2010, was a lawyer, investment banker and president of the old San Diego Padres baseball team. He later was vice-president and general counsel of the Padres when they entered the National League,” says the paper’s April 6 account, linked to a January 2005 interview and profile of Mulvaney here by Don Bauder. “Mulvaney Sr. also worked as a banker and businessman for the controversial financier and industrialist C. Arnholt Smith at Westgate Corporation, who was one of Richard Nixon’s earliest supporters as well as friend to mobsters like Moe Dalitz. Smith’s empire collapsed in 1973 when his bank, the U.S. National Bank, where James Mulvaney Sr. was president for a while, collapsed. At the time, the Wall Street Journal called the bank collapse “the largest in the nation’s history.”

sometimes i think leftist youtubers have worms for brains.

so let me get this straight... the detransitioner who has nothing to gain and everything to lose comes out and talks about how transition ruined her life. she's lost friends. she's being ridiculed by the entire internet. but SHE'S the grifter?

and not dylan mulvaney? who was a fucking nobody until like a year ago? who has made absolute bank off his trans identity? who met the fucking PRESIDENT? who has 10 million followers on tiktok? who is getting a million sponsors solely because of his trans identity? he's somehow not the grifter? please explain i am confusion.

[epacer]

San Diego Unified School District

Interim Superintendent Fabi Bagula, Ph.D. was named a Latino Leader of Influence by San Diego Business Journal and the San Diego County Hispanic Chamber of Commerce for her dedication to advancing large-scale change initiatives that improve outcomes for students and educators.

Her bicultural upbringing and experiences crossing the San Diego border have guided her widely respected and visionary work as a teacher, administrator, executive leadership coach, senior director of equity, deputy superintendent, and now as the first Latina to lead the second-largest school district in California as interim superintendent.

San Diego Unified is proud of the diversity that makes up our district, and 45% of our students are Latinx.

Our students, educators and school communities are fortunate to have Dr. Bagula's wisdom and leadership at the helm.

#BetterSD

[sidewalkstamps]

Auerbach Construction, Inc. (Photo taken by me, I think, on April 2, 2023 - I don't know whose hands that is.)

Auerbach Construction, Inc. was founded by Ernest Auerbach, who was born in 1916 in Brooklyn, NY and died on February 1, 2010 (this was actually quite difficult for me to be sure about but I now am). He is buried at Hillside Memorial Park in Culver City, CA (findagrave.com). The below photo was added to Find a Grave by Romper90069.

In the Great Depression, "he grew and sold produce, and later became a producer broker." In World War II, he was in the Horse Cavalry of the U.S. Army. Moving to California after the war, he founded the Ernest Auerbach Company in Santa Monica, CA in 1946 for real estate construction, management, and financing.

According to the 1965 Westside City Directory, Auerbach at that point was still operating as Ernest Auerbach Co and was located at 11965 Montana Av, apartment 2 (City Directories Inc., accessed via the Los Angeles Public Library).

Apparently he was also a racehorse breeder, who started a thoroughbred breeding farm in San Diego County, CA in 1977 ("Ernest Auerbach, Santa Monica real estate developer, dies at 93," Jewish Journal, February 17, 2010).

He was the chairman of the board of the Auerbach Construction company and had "built 'something' on almost every street of [Santa Monica], from small residences to apartment houses" (LA Times). Same for much of Brentwood and Pacific Palisades. By 1987, he had "built more than 10 million square feet of commercial, retail and residential properties valued at more than $500 million." And at that time, they focused mostly on "industrial high-tech and commercial properties" through LA, Orange, and San Diego counties. Their headquarters since 1982 was Auerbach Plaza at 2001 Wilshire Blvd.

In 2001, he founded a bank that became the First Business Bank in San Diego, CA (Jewish Journal).

According to the Los Angeles Times, Auerbach was a "mild-mannered man with an uncanny eye for the right opportunity" ("By Veteran Developer: An Instant Replay of Santa Monica Values," Evelyn De Wolfe, The Los Angeles Times, April 5, 1987).

Rodney Freeman, who is Managing Partner of Metro Properties, includes his 18 years at Auerbach Construction, Inc. in his bio on Metro Properties's website. According to the aforementioned LA Times article, Freeman led Auerbach Construction Co. from at least 1987.

Simon Schreier, now of S. Schreier & Associates, Inc., was Senior Project Manager for Auerbach Construction from 1994 to 1997 (rocketreach.co).

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