#Tampa homes with pools

[realnettampabay-blog]

[jackhalljrs]

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[biggsunko]

Flat Roofing Example of a large minimalist beige three-story stucco flat roof design

[carolinavasconcelos]

Tropical Pool - Pool Large backyard stone image with a rectangular lap hot tub.

[2h3llandb4ck]

To quote the Tamatoa man Schaffrillas Productions…

B E E M O V I E

I had a lot of fun doing my retake on Bee’s design!

Some mini headcanons about the queen bee + her ring:

- Bee is the talk of the Gluttony Ring, the familiar face everyone lights up at when she pops up on a billboard. Everyone loves her parties and her genuine, down-to-earth self. Bee’s job is to ensure the demons of her ring are able to indulge themselves. This includes creating endless amount of food from the daily atmosphere of parties in the Gluttony Ring, helping create food-themed demons from scraps, and feeding damned souls (sinners in my rewrite) to demons to send them to damnation for their gluttonous sins.

- Most of the time, Bee appears as a cute little bee demon to make others more comfortable. Her true form is a giant, monstrous bee that is so terrifying, damned souls actually die earlier if they’re unlucky to see it.

- The Gluttony Ring of the Underworld is based on a worn-down, abandoned city that only becomes vibrant and full of life if someone throws a party. It’s summer year-round in the ring; the hotter someone feels, the more they want to indulge themselves in endless cool treats. The water is also really warm, so the only way anyone could take a swim is if they either had cooling powers or filled up the nearest available pool. (I based the entire ring’s vibe off Florida; mainly Miami/Tampa)

- The imps, succubi, and hellhounds of the Gluttony Ring are based on tropical food and drinks. The ring is also home to bug-themed demons, with the most common being bees/wasps.

That’s all folks!

[wakandas-vibranium]

Planet Earth 2023 || Part One

Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

Word count: 2.9k

Warning(s): Canon typical violence, cursing, injuries, fluff, slow burn

A/N: This will be a mini series in ten parts. Semi slow burn between Din and Reader. No beta reader, but there shouldn’t be too many grammatical errors. Please like, comment and share!

Summary: The Mandalorian and his kid were ambushed by pirates in space and ended up on Earth, crashing the new and improved Razor Crest right onto your front lawn.

part two

part three

part four

part five

part six

It was a shining afternoon in Florida. You were relaxing in your backyard, in a lounge chair beside your massive pool, soaking in all that the sun had to offer.

You were a renowned trauma surgeon, and this was your first vacation in four years. You considered sailing across the Atlantic Ocean for three weeks, but ultimately opted to stay in the comfort of your own home. A lot of time, effort, and money went into building your dream home, so of course you decided to bask in the ambiance for the next twenty-one days.

You lived in the middle of nothingness. Your nearest neighbor was a 6-mile drive up the road, and you couldn't be happier. It was a 12-mile trip to downtown, where there were plenty of grocery stores, gas stations, and restaurants. 

You were on day two of your vacation. You took the liberty of driving into town yesterday to stock up on everything you needed. It was the first week of July, which was one of the busiest weeks in Tampa.

There were simply too many people. College and high school kids on summer break, bikers, tourists, and locals that got on your nerves every chance they got. Not to mention the buzzing flies, lizards, and deafening cicadas that were hellbent on driving everyone in Florida insane.

You leaned forward, taking one final swig from your flute glass. You made delicious mimosas. This was only your second glass, but you wanted to squeeze in a short nap before pouring a third.

You placed the empty glass on the mini table beside you and leaned all the way back, relaxing into the lounge chair. You tilted your hat down to protect your eyes from the beaming sun and drifted off to sleep. 

Out of nowhere, a sound that you could only describe as the blue sky opening jolted you awake, and you shot up out of the lounge chair, gawking up at the sky. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. You snagged your cell phone from the mini table, checking the time. 

4:09pm

You had only been asleep for eleven minutes. You pinched yourself to make sure you weren’t in the middle of a dream. 

The foreign junk of metal barely missed the tall gate surrounding your home as it landed unceremoniously on your front lawn. You kicked off your wedge sandals and hauled ass to the front of your house, mentally preparing to rip this asshole to shreds with your venomous words. 

You stopped at the wreckage, grumbling obscenities as you assessed the damage that was done. Your tulips were tarnished and a wide section of grass was burnt to a crisp. At least the lily and chrysanthemum sections were left unharmed.

The door to the colossal heap of metal opened, revealing the culprit, who appeared to be a helmeted man dressed in metal and black. 

Wow, you thought, completely sidetracked by the man you saw before you and what appeared to be his ship. That was the spitting image of a spaceship. Living in Florida, you’ve met your fair share of cosplayers, but something about this man was different. How in the hell did he build something like that? How did he afford it? Those looked like authentic parts. 

Despite the turbulent landing, the ship was not significantly damaged. It probably needed four or five repairs, but it appeared to be functional. 

Whoever it was needed to collect their things, compensate for the damages, and get the hell off your property. You rolled your eyes at yourself for not stopping in the house to retrieve your handgun. Hopefully the man wouldn’t be violent towards you. 

You walked fiercely up the ramp onto the ship, pausing when you spotted the man slightly bent over, groaning in pain as he clutched his right thigh. 

“What in the fuck?” you yelled at the man, stopping all movement once you saw he was aiming a weapon at you. 

He’s taking this cosplayer shit a little too far, you thought. You folded your arms across your chest, tapping a bare, beautifully pedicured foot against the floor of the ship as you waited for the tin man to say something. 

He didn’t. 

“What in the hell kind of gun is that?” you cursed, squinting as you pointed at the weirdly shaped weapon in his hand. 

He tilted his head towards you, but still didn’t say anything. 

“And what the hell are you wearing?” you continued, throwing your hands up in exasperation. 

He looked like a complete and utter fool. Okay, that is not the case at all. He actually looked incredibly good in his costume. However, now is not the time to be ogling the man who just crashed into your front yard, destroying your favorite flowers.

“Get away from me.” he said, grunting softly, and gripping his thigh tighter as he attempted to stand up. Red drops of blood soaked a patch around the knee of his pants and trickled down his leg onto the spaceship's floor.

The smooth gruffness of his modulated voice was enough to make you standstill in your criticisms. It was almost as if he was speaking from his chest and not his mouth. You did not expect him to sound like that. How alluring. 

“Excuse me!” you gasped in dismay once you remembered the rude tone he took with you as if you were the one who crashed into his perfect day. 

The unmitigated gall this metal man had. 

You pointed a perfectly manicured nail at him, “You’re the one who landed this fugly chunk of metal in my backyard! Who are you?” 

“I am Mandalorian D—“ 

“—Is that supposed to mean somethin’ to me?” you asked, interrupting the bleeding man. 

He exhaled in your direction. You barely gave him a chance to get a word in edgewise. Something about the man seemed both vulnerable and frightening at the same time. The large tear that was on his thigh was bleeding profusely. You took a cautious step forward, eyeing the wound. Although it didn't appear to be infected, the puncture was fairly deep and would require stitches.  

“Who did this to you?”

“A pirate. We al-almost didn’t make it b—“

Who is we, you thought. You were so focused on the metal man, you didn’t even see the tiny green munchkin looking up at you with huge eyes that matched its long ears. 

Oh my god. It was a green baby E.T. 

Your heart skipped a beat and you slyly pinched yourself again to make sure you were wide awake. 

He was too cute.

“—I’m sorry, did you just say a pirate did this to you?” you squeaked, interrupting the injured man yet again. Sorry not sorry. You were definitely in shock.

Great. Now alien pirates were a thing. 

You shook your head hoping that would clear your bewildered mind. You only had two mimosas, but this newfound information was starting to give you an awful migraine. It was happening too fast. Your brain needed time to catch up. 

“I think I put in the wrong coordinates before jumping,” the helmeted man disclosed before asking, “What planet is this?” 

The space man went on about how his gravity well projector and navicomp malfunctioned due to the shootout with the pirates. 

“Planet?” you replied, “Are you high?” 

“Just tell me where I am.” the strange man grunted as he slowly rose to his feet, succeeding this time. 

“This is Planet earth. Florida to be specific. Ever been here before?” 

“This backwater—No. No, I haven’t.” 

“Well, welcome to the sunshine state Mandalorian.” you flashed him a smile that didn’t quite meet your eyes. 

“Just call me Mando.” 

“Alright then, Mando,” you said, “I’m a doctor and I can stitch up that nasty gash you have there.” 

He said nothing for a few seconds as he stood there weighing his options. He took one look down at the baby before agreeing. 

“Yes, that’s a good idea. I can’t fight like this.” 

“Who are you fightin’?” 

“The pirates who tried to shoot me and my kid down. They’ll be here soon.” 

Your second day of vacation was going to be spent fighting off alien pirates, huh? Not too shabby. 

While he went to gather what he needed, you took this opportunity to explore this section of the ship in greater detail. Wow. This ship must have cost him a pretty penny. You extended a helping hand to the Mandalorian on the path to your home, but he declined, instead picking up the child and walking alongside you. 

“You live alone?” He asked, stepping into the house after you. 

“Yes.”

“Why?” he pressed, stumbling a bit as he tried to round the corner and keep up with your long strides. 

“None of your goddamn business.” you quipped, motioning for him to come into the kitchen. He snorted softly and the baby cooed. 

Somewhat unexpectedly, Mando let you steer him into the kitchen and even accepted your assistance in guiding him to a chair at the island in the middle of your kitchen. He sat the kid on the island and they both turned, watching you reach into the upper cupboard to pull out your homemade first aid kit.

You brought two chairs closer to him, sitting in one of them while motioning for him to position his leg up on the seat of the other chair. He leaned forward slightly and made a low grunting sound as he shifted his leg to perch on the chair. 

To gain better access to the injury, you gingerly removed the metal plate that was shielding most of his thigh. Although the bleeding had stopped to some extent, the wound still needed cleaning and disinfecting before being patched up. You leaned closer as you dabbed at the laceration. Every now and then, when you applied too much pressure, he hissed softly, but he never told you to stop.

He asked, “Is that bacta?” 

“I’m not sure what bacta is,” you admitted, half shrugging as you examined the jagged edges of the laceration. It was a nasty cut on his thigh, right above his knee. You noticed that his skin was white and not green. A curiosity you’d ask about at a more appropriate time. “This is a numbing agent called lidocaine. We use it so that the stitches don’t hurt as much.” 

“Will it make me drowsy?” 

You shook your head, “It shouldn’t. Plus it only lasts about 40 minutes or so.” 

“Okay.” 

“It’ll be a quick pinch then I’ll start stitchin’ you up.” 

He just nodded. His kid cooed worriedly and you felt your heartstrings being tugged by the little one yet again. Aww, you thought, the little one was worried about his dad. 

“Don’t worry, kid. I won’t hurt him.” you promised. 

After injecting the lidocaine into his thigh with the needle, you proceeded to suture the wound closed, making sure not to pull too tightly on the ends. You went a little deeper than necessary on the next stitch, which caused Mando to jerk and grip your wrist, cursing loudly, “Dank farrik!” 

“Ooh,” you grimaced at the sound of his harsh pants, stopping to glance at him and the kid, “I didn't mean to go that deep. Sorry, Mando.” you apologized. 

To take his mind off the discomfort, you took two fingers and massaged the underside of his knee. As he relaxed, you could feel the tension ease out of his thigh muscles. Your method worked like a charm. It always did. He loosened his grip on your wrist before dropping his hand back into his lap.

“You ruined my favorite flowers, you know…” you commented as you peered up at him, attempting to find his eyes through the helmet. How was it even possible to have a tinted helmet? Exactly what were the Mandalorians so afraid of in space that they had to conceal their faces? When you failed to locate his eyes, you went back to the wound and threw another stitch. You were almost done now. Just a couple more sutures. 

It was getting harder to ignore the tiny green guy's agitated cries. He must have been getting hungry or bored. Mando didn't utter a word, so you assume he was just used to it. 

“I’m sorry about your tulips,” he expressed, ducking his head a bit in embarrassment, “I’ll see if I can salvage them once I know we’re in the clear.” 

“You know how to tend to flowers?”

“A little bit.” he said, shrugging as he turned his attention towards his upset kid. 

“Sorry,” Mando apologized for the increasing volume of the kid’s cries, “He’s probably hungry.” 

“Well, I have some leftovers from brunch. Does he have any allergies?” 

“Not that I'm aware of.” Mando replied. 

“Alright. I’ll fix him a plate once I’m done with you. Would you like to eat somethin’ too?” 

“Not really hungry at the moment.” 

“Okay.” 

After you had completed the last stitch, you took a little, red container, opened it, and used a dollop of vaseline to evenly spread it over the stitches.  As soon as you had completed that task, you got to your feet and headed over to the kitchen sink, where you washed your hands thoroughly.  

You took some oatmeal and heated it up in the microwave, sliced an apple and added a few red pieces to the bowl. You grabbed a spoon, handing it to the child as you placed the blue ceramic bowl in front of him. He cooed happily before digging in.

You asked Mando to wait some time before strapping the metallic layer of protection back on his thigh, but he refused. 

The child appeared to be in a better mood now that his belly was full. You had to resist the urge to ask Mando if you could hold him. He was just too stinkin’ cute. You’d probably never let him go. 

You lingered on the couch for an hour, staring at Mando entertaining his kid, before opting to get some fresh air in your backyard. 

“Where are you going?” Mando questioned as he put his son on the couch and hurried over to you, standing in front of the sliding glass doors, blocking you from leaving the house. 

You forced back an eye roll as you reminded yourself that he was only being cautious. There was no need to be rude to him. He merely wanted you to avoid getting killed by the pirate who had followed him to your house. From space. 

“I need to grab my phone,” you explained as you pointed to the chair you were lounging in peacefully before he arrived, “Look— it’s just right there by the pool.” 

“Fine,” he exhaled sharply after following your direction, eyeing the object, “Be quick. It isn’t safe yet.” He stepped aside after you nodded at him and you slid the door open, stepping out into your backyard. 

You're not certain why, but on your way to the swimming pool, you kept track of how many steps you took. You’re astonished that you haven't done this before now. 31 steps in total from your house to your pool.

You bent over, snagging your cell phone from the small table, checking the time.

6:42pm

Today, time was flying by. It was almost time for dinner. You could probably cook dinner while you waited for this so-called pirate extraterrestrial to arrive. Sadly, you were no longer in the mood to make dinner. You could just order a pizza. Did they even eat pizza in space?

Your phone chimed, and after tapping the green icon to check your messages, you saw that you had received a new text from your friend and colleague Jaime, who was a highly qualified cardiothoracic surgeon. Due to the fact that you two worked so closely together on various urgent cases, it was inevitable that the two of you became great pals.

An appreciative smile formed at the corner of your mouth as you read Jaime’s message which reported that there was no code blue while she was on duty. This occurred once or twice a year, but it was always a cause for celebration. You typed out a few emoji’s before pressing send. 

“Tulip, run!” Mando bellowed from inside the house. 

You glanced at him in confusion. Who was tulip, you thought sardonically until it dawned on you. Your mouth fell open in a hushed O. He never asked for your name and you never offered it. 

So, he took it upon himself to nickname you your favorite flower? Interesting.

You ignored the sudden fluttering of your heart and the warm flush that danced across your skin.

The boisterous warbling of another spaceship captured your attention. Despite being smaller than Mando’s, it was distinctly louder. Just a few feet away from Mando's, it landed, and out stepped the most outlandish space pirate you've ever seen. It was the first alien pirate you'd ever seen, so there was that, but the entrance was very lackluster. 

“Tulip, come to me now!” Mando barked, unholstering his weapon and beckoning for you to come back inside to where he and the kid were.

The space pirate spotted you immediately and made a beeline for you. Your heart thumped against your rib cage as you tucked tail and ran back inside. 

Running from a goddamn space pirate wasn’t on your 2023 bingo card.

[the-halfling-prince]

I'm from Florida, so here's a few things I think Steven Spencer should've done/said to make sure everyone believed he was from Florida

Say he's from the south. When people question the lack of southern accent, hit them with a "Florida's the fake South, duh.'

Mention gators in casual conversation as much as possible. People don't do this when talking to people also from Florida, but it's hilarious to mention the gators in the pool to non Floridians.

Say he hates the beach. Florida is pretty much split between loves the beach and hates the beach and it has nothing to do with swimming. (The Indoor Pool excuse was lame as hell. Pale people live in Florida. Exhibit a: me)

Complain about the cold Constantly. Drop a Floridian suddenly into Canada, idk about y'all but I'd die

Know where Tampa is.

No, seriously, this could've done wonders. Why did he not even check which part of Florida Tampa was in?

Get irritated anytime someone asks if he goes to Disney world all the time.

Talk longingly about Publix.

Decorate his entire room with orange themed decor. Not a real Florida thing but home decor companies seem to think so

Say "Tampa jump scare" or "Florida jump scare" anytime either is mentioned in casual conversation

[theewokingdead]

The Wiener of My Heart - Benjamin "Benny" Miller x Reader

Pairing: Benny x Reader (1st POV, no descriptions) Rating: T (blog is 18+) Summary: You and Benny are brought together by your mutual love of dogs. Word Count: 1.4k+ Warnings: Some cringe-worthy puns and innuendos, but it’s Benny so are you really surprised? Language. A/N: I saw a decal on a car in a grocery store parking lot that read “Sometimes I trip over my wiener.” I immediately thought “Benny would 100% have that on his car.” This is pure chaos, and I’m not sorry. Hopefully this doesn’t get lost in translation for anyone, but wiener = wiener dog = dachshund.

{Masterlist}

I fucking hate grocery shopping. It’s one of those things I can’t seem to bring myself to do until I absolutely have to. There’s something about wandering through the endless aisles, searching for the things I need, finding the best price of those things, all while avoiding small talk that I find frustrating. It’s just not worth the hassle, the time, or the stress.

Today’s trip has been a nightmare; there are people everywhere, obstructing every turn and moving in all directions, and the shelves are being emptied as if the end of the world has just been announced.  I will not be surprised if I immediately hear the national alert system going off when I turn on my car.

God, please, if the world is ending let them be The Walking Dead zombies and not the fucking infected from The Last of Us.

I am on edge until I step out the doors and take a deep breath, the heavy, muggy air of Tampa somehow easier to breathe in than the air inside the stuffy store. I made it out alive, and so far, there aren’t any signs of any impending doom. I mean, no more than usual, considering Florida is a dumpster fire on a normal day.

I push the cart to my car, unlock the trunk, and rapidly load the groceries, eager to get home and pour myself a glass of much-deserved wine. I’m only halfway through when I turn and happen to catch sight of the most striking man walk out of the store, several grocery bags in each hand. He is tall, with broad shoulders and strong arms that seem to effortlessly carry the weight of the groceries. The sleeves of his jacket are rolled up enough to see his forearms flex with each step he takes. Something about him oozes rugged charm, and it’s impossible to not be captivated by him.

Fuck, he’s cute.

The man moves in my direction, and I quickly shift my focus and get back to loading my car. I watch out of the corner of my eye as the man approaches the Jeep parked beside me, shifting his bags to unlock it and and lift up the back window. My heart beats a million miles a minute, but I try to ignore it, figuring he’s too far out of my league.

He’s probably a douche anyway, I tell myself, trying to keep from being disappointed when he doesn’t even acknowledge my existence.

Unexpectedly, I hear a deep, quiet laugh, then a smooth, sultry voice speaks, “I’d rather be playing with my wiener too.”

My stomach twists, making me feel sick. The fuck did he just say?

“Excuse me?” I question, whipping toward the stranger faster than I thought humanly possible. My nose scrunches with disgust. The fucking audacity of this man. He’s not just a douche, but a fucking creep - which is a shame because up close this man is gorgeous. His blue eyes are like two pools of sapphire, glistening in the sunlight. A pair of sunglasses hang on the neck of his shirt, pulling it down just enough to reveal hair on his chest. Strands of blond hair peek out from underneath his hat, which he’s sporting backwards – a telltale sign of being a total douche.

I should’ve known.

However, the man seems to immediately regret what he said, his growing wide, cheeks as red as a traffic light.

“Oh shit! I-I didn’t mean it like that,” he exclaims, tripping over every word. “I meant…” He gestures toward my rear passenger window, which I know has a decal featuring the words “I’d rather be playing with my wiener” along with the silhouette of a dachshund. “I have one too,” he clarifies, pointing to his bumper, a sticker with a similar picture and the words “I trip over my wiener.”

My cheeks warm as realization settles over me. “Oh!” I exclaim, a nervous laugh escaping my lips. “I am so sorry! I thought you were-”

“An asshole?” he finishes for me, to which I breath out a “Yeah” with a small giggle. He chuckles awkwardly, reaching to grab the bill of his hat and pulling it off his head. While running his fingers through his tussled hair, he flips his hat around then puts it back on. “Yeah… Sorry. I didn’t exactly think that one through. Not my finest conversation starter.”

“It’s okay,” I assure him, offering him a genuine smile. “Don’t worry about it, uh-” I suddenly remember that I don’t know his name.

“Benny,” he replies, offering his hand to me.

“Benny,” I reply, repeating his name aloud once while it plays in my head like a beautiful song. I give him my own name, and as I shake his large hand, my mind immediately drifts to how his touch would feel on other parts of my skin. The thought of his hands exploring every inch of my body sends shivers down my spine. As I reluctantly release his hand, I can’t help but long for a moment when his touch could be more than just a fleeting gesture.

“Do you think maybe I could see your wiener?” Though my voice sounds meet, the sly smile spreading across my face shows that I’m well aware of what I’m doing.

“Right here? Right now?” Benny questions, pretending to be appalled by the notion, clearly playing along.

“Right now,” you demand. “Show me see your wiener.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies with a smile.

Fuck, the things those two words make me feel.

After reaching into the pocket of his jeans, he whips out his phone and swipes across the screen with his thumb. Within seconds, he’s showing me a picture of a beautiful black and brown dog, sporting short legs and a long torso.

“This is Beanie.”

My eyes flick up to him. “Beanie the Weenie?”

“Sir Beanie the Weenie of House Teenie, actually,” he clarifies, trying to sound so matter-of-fact.

“Oh,” I gasp, trying to sound impressed. “I had no idea you know the star of Game of Bones.”

Benny lets out a boisterous laugh, sparkles in his eyes, seeming both shocked and thrilled by my parody. “Fuck! Yes! That’s exactly what I was going for!”

Smiling, I look back at his screen, watching as he swipes to another picture, then another.

“You know, I don’t show just anyone my wiener,” Benny admits after several moments of silence. “I hope he doesn’t disappoint.”

I snort. “Not at all. He’s very cute.”

Chuckling, he tucks his phone back into his pocket, then gestures to me. “I showed you mine, so why don’t you show me yours?”

“It’s only fair,” I reply, reaching for my phone. Happily, I show him a photo of my brown long-haired dachshund. “Her name is Leia”

“Like from Star Wars?” he questions, a hint of excitement in his tone.

“Well, actually…” I pull my phone back and quickly find a photo from last Halloween. I show him the picture of my dog in a Leia costume, fake buns and all, which causes Benny to bust out in a fit of laughter.

“Okay. You win! Your wiener is way cooler than mine.”

I shrug nonchalantly. “A princess does outrank a knight, so…”

He chuckles, and a giggle escapes my lips.

“Maybe we can set up a playdate?” I suggest.

“Yeah, absolutely,” Benny replies. “Maybe we can set one up for the dogs too?” He looks up from my screen to meet my gaze, the corner of his lips rising into a small smile. Fuck, his eyes are mesmerizing. They’re the kind that make you feel like you’re the only person in the room, as if he’s seeing into my soul and understanding me without even uttering a word. I could stare into them for hours, lost in their piercing blue beauty.

I smile, feeling my cheeks warm once again. “I’d like that.”

We exchange numbers and part with the promise that we’ll be in touch soon. While walking toward my car door, I feel a sense of anticipation for what the future might hold. Grabbing a hold of the handle, I pause, then look over at Benny as he climbs into his seat. Looking at him makes me feel calm, as if all my worries melt away in his presence. I almost don’t want to let him leave.

“Hey,” I call, grabbing his attention before he can close the door of his Jeep. “Make sure you play with your wiener for me when you get home.” Casting him a wink, I climb into my seat, satisfied by the pink that’s rising in his cheeks as he casts a shy smile.

I’m pretty sure a stranger just stole my heart in a Publix parking lot. But what can I say? Benny has one incredible-looking wiener, and that makes me weak.

[newstfionline]

Wednesday, October 9, 2024

As Major Hurricane Approaches Florida, FEMA Faces Severe Staffing Shortage (NYT) The Federal Emergency Management Agency is running out of staff to deal with the potential devastation of Hurricane Milton as it barrels toward Tampa with wind speeds that have reached 175 miles per hour. As of Monday morning, just 9 percent of FEMA’s personnel, or 1,217 people, were available to respond to the hurricane or other disasters, according to the agency’s daily operations briefing. To put that into context: Over the previous five years, one-quarter of the agency’s staff was available for deployment at this point in the hurricane season. FEMA is stretched not just by the brutal aftermath of Hurricane Helene, which killed more than 200 people and destroyed sections of western North Carolina. Its staff is also responding to flooding and landslides in Vermont, tornadoes in Kansas, the aftermath of Tropical Storm Debby in New York and Georgia and the Watch Fire in Arizona. And those are just the disasters that were declared in the past two weeks.

A Nation of Homebodies (NYT) A recent analysis of census data found that Americans are spending more time at home, and a large part of it alone. The analysis, based on responses to the American Time Use Survey, shows that time spent at home increased by 1 hour 39 minutes a day, or 10 percent, from 2003 through 2022. It’s a trend that rose sharply during the pandemic and had yet to return to more typical levels by 2022—a sign that the pandemic may have hastened a cultural shift already in progress. Years before the first stay-at-home orders were enacted, Americans were already beginning to spend more time at home. “It’s a dramatic shift in our daily lives,” said Patrick Sharkey, a professor of sociology and public affairs at Princeton, and the author of the study. “Almost every part of our lives is more likely to take place at home.” As of 2022, time that Americans had once spent outside the home participating in activities like education, eating and drinking, had, to some extent, moved into the home. The largest shift occurred with religious activities: 59 percent occurred at home in 2022, up from 24 percent in 2003.

Dredging the World’s Biggest River (NYT) The world’s largest river is parched. The Amazon River, battered by back-to-back droughts fueled by climate change, is drying up, with some stretches of the mighty waterway dwindling to shallow pools only a few feet deep. Water levels along several sections of the Amazon River, which winds nearly 4,000 miles across South America, fell last month to their lowest level on record, according to figures from the Brazilian Geological Service. The crisis has gridlocked the Amazon, a vital watery superhighway that serves as practically the only way to connect forest communities and move commerce around some of the most remote stretches on the planet. Faced with a situation that shows no sign of abating, Brazil has resorted to an extraordinary measure that might have been unthinkable not too long ago: making the world’s largest river deeper by dredging strategic parts of it.

Ukraine strikes a Russian oil hub (AP) Ukraine’s military said it struck a major oil terminal Monday in Crimea that provides fuel for Russia’s war effort as Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy said the war has entered a key phase. Ukraine’s General Staff said on social media that the oil terminal in Feodosia, on the south coast of the Russia-occupied Crimea Peninsula, has been supplying the Russian army with fuel and that the strike was part of an ongoing effort to “undermine the military and economic potential of the Russian Federation.” Ukraine has increasingly targeted rear areas that are essential for Russia’s onslaught, now deep into its third year. It has developed long-range drones that have hit oil depots and refineries as well as armories.

Below the surface in a ‘new Kashmir,’ anger over repression by India (Washington Post) Shuttered movie theaters are now open, as are new cafes, market roads and sports facilities. Government schools have been renamed after police officers. A train line connecting the Kashmiri capital Srinagar and Delhi is almost ready to open. The Indian flag is everywhere. After decades of violent conflict between separatists and Indian authorities that killed thousands, the Indian government now speaks of a “new Kashmir.” But these snapshots mask a feeling of repression voiced by residents across Kashmir. Since the Indian government revoked the region’s special autonomy in 2019, Kashmiris deemed too vocal or too close to separatists have been fired, jailed or warned to stay silent. After a six-year delay, Kashmir is holding elections for the local legislature. About half of Kashmir’s eligible residents, according to official poll numbers, have cast their votes over the past few weeks. “The establishment interpretation is that they are coming out in such droves because democracy has been restored,” said Siddiq Wahid, a history professor at India’s Shiv Nadar University who is from Kashmir. “Nothing could be further from the truth. The voter turnout is a keen realization of the fact that enough is enough.”

Adoption lawsuit (Foreign Policy) A South Korean woman sued her government, an adoption agency, and an orphanage on Monday over her daughter’s wrongful adoption, saying her then-4-year-old child was sent to the United States in 1976 just months after being kidnapped. The prosecution is seeking $445,000 in damages from Seoul. Han Tae-soon, the mother, was part of an Associated Press investigation detailing how the South Korean government collaborated with adoption agencies and other child services to send around 200,000 children obtained via dubious means overseas. These methods included falsifying paperwork, kidnapping, and removing newborns from their birth parents. Han reunited with her daughter in 2019 through DNA testing.

Beirut airstrikes: collateral damage (BBC) Dr Taghrid Diab does not follow Colonel Avichae Adraee on social media, so she didn’t see the IDF’s spokesman warning when it was posted late on Saturday night. But her daughter did, and she forwarded it to her mother with an urgent question. “Is this your clinic?” Col Adraee sometimes posts evacuation warnings on social media ahead of an Israeli air strike in Lebanon. The posts contain an aerial image with the target building highlighted in red. Dr Diab, a gynaecologist who provides care to hundreds of women in the Beirut suburb of Dahieh, studied the image. She recognised the apartment building directly next door to her clinic, shaded by an ominous red square. She began to cry. “After 30 years of work, I knew my clinic was going be destroyed,” she said. “I felt like my heart was going to explode.” The southern suburb of Beirut has been heavily targeted by Israel, whose military said it had “conducted a series of targeted strikes on a number of weapons storage facilities” belonging to Hezbollah. Dr Diab’s clinic was also destroyed, just as she had feared.

Lebanon’s displaced search for refuge (Washington Post) As the manager at one of Beirut’s top nightclubs, Gaelle Irani is usually preoccupied with booking DJs and taking reservations. Now, she’s in charge of looking after 400 displaced people, converting a venue for revelry into a place of refuge. For her, and hundreds of thousands across Lebanon, life changed overnight last month when a long-simmering border conflict between Hezbollah and Israel exploded into full-on war. Some 1.2 million people—about 20 percent of the population—have been displaced by relentless Israeli airstrikes and an advancing ground invasion. With so many uprooted so rapidly, this fragile state is struggling to cope. The government has set up 973 shelters across the country, housing almost 180,000 people, but most are already at capacity. While some families have been able to afford hotel rooms or apartment rentals, many others have been reduced to squatting in vacant buildings or sleeping in cars and public parks. Skybar, in Beirut’s plush waterfront district, was never meant to be a shelter, but when people began parking nearby and camping out on the pavement, the owners felt obligated to help. “We started off with 70 people, and now we’re around 400,” Irani said.

‘Our whole life is displacement’ (BBC) The UN says 90% of Gaza’s population has been displaced by Israel’s retaliation for the Hamas attacks. Foreign reporters are not allowed into the territory and the BBC relies on local journalists to cover the humanitarian crisis. We briefed them with questions for some of the Palestinians we have spoken to in Gaza over the past 12 months: Displacement means uncertainty. Constant fear. Will the child, sent for a bucket of water, come home? Or will they return to find their home flattened, and their family buried under the rubble? These are the questions that haunt Abed-Alrahman’s young widow, Nawara, every day. “There is always shelling and we are always afraid, terrified. I constantly hold my children close and hug them,” she says. The Israel Defense Forces tell people to move to “humanitarian zones”. People flee but often find no safety. In the words of Nawara, there is “no safe place in the Gaza Strip”. Nawara complains of the overflowing sewage in the street. The lack of medical supplies. Like so many in Gaza, with no income, she depends on what food her in-laws or charities can supply.

Sudan's warring sides target local aid volunteers fighting famine (Reuters) Local volunteers who have helped to feed Sudan's most destitute during 17 months of war say attacks against them by the opposing sides are making it difficult to provide life-saving aid amid the world's biggest hunger crisis. Many volunteers have fled under threat of arrest or violence, and communal kitchens they set up in a country where hundreds are estimated to be dying of starvation and hunger-related diseases each day have stopped serving meals for weeks at a time. International humanitarian agencies, which have been unable to get food aid to parts of Sudan at risk of famine, have ramped up support for volunteer aid groups. But that has made them more of a target for RSF looters, 10 of the volunteers told Reuters by phone. "We were safe when the RSF didn't know about the funding," said Gihad Salaheldin, a volunteer who left Khartoum city last year and spoke from Cairo. "They see our kitchens as a source of food." Both sides have also attacked or detained volunteers on suspicion of collaborating with their opponents, a dozen volunteers said.

Costco’s Gold Bars Fly Off Shelves (Bloomberg) Gold’s breathtaking surge this year to repeated record highs hasn’t stopped it from flying off shelves at Costco stores across the US. Costco’s one-stop shopping convenience is bringing gold buying to the masses by offering prices that undercut traditional precious metals dealers and extra rewards for its most loyal customers. A survey of stores across 46 states revealed how hard it is for the retailer to keep its gold products stocked even as prices for the metal continue to climb.

Dutch museum finds beer can artwork in bin (BBC) A Dutch museum had to pick artwork out of the bin after a member of staff thought that the display, which consisted of two empty beer cans, was leftover rubbish. All The Good Times We Spent Together by French artist Alexandre Lavet shows two dented beer cans on the floor. They were exhibited inside the museum’s lift as if left behind by construction workers. But a lift technician thought the art was simply the leftovers of lazy visitors and threw them in the bin. Once a curator spotted that the artwork was missing, staff searched for it and it was found in a bin bag.

[a-stubborn-little-fish]

I miss being a little girl and putting my feet on top of my dad’s so he can walk while I hugged him. I miss that joy. I miss climbing on the rocks in Central Park and feeding the horses carrots. I miss the tulips in my neighbor’s yard and the caterpillars on the tomato plants and the pansies planted around the bird bath. I miss the sunflowers taller than me. I miss the intricate wrought iron railing with filigree. I miss the wooden chest with fish shaped brass handles that flipped up and down. I miss my giant, empty, carpeted room and scratchy blue heated blanket. I miss the sound of the motor humming and clicking from my favorite nightlight. I miss playing in the park next to the elementary school across from my house. I miss the frost on the steel bars that stung my skin. I miss the cold tile in the kitchen and the broken clock above the dining room table. I miss the corded phone that was always tangled and the screen door that never closed just right. I miss footy pajamas and sliding down the carpeted stairs on my butt and crashing into the coat closet at the bottom. I miss the scary basement. I miss watching the sun set over the Brooklyn bridge. I miss Fergus scratching up my legs when I’d get home. I miss sitting in the back of an airport terminal tram while the sun rises. I miss the bumps of a plane landing and the ding before a pilot’s announcement. I miss yawning to pop my ears during take off and that momentary feeling of falling when the plane wheels leave the runway. I miss the silent dark car rides home with only the glow of the buttons to light up the car’s interior. I miss the strange carpet in the Tampa International baggage claim with its rows and rows of empty carousels. I miss those little curled leaves that crunch when you step on them. I miss the feeling of my baby brother’s hand gripping my fingers. I miss how he always laughed hysterically every time I smiled at him. I miss building train tracks for him after school. I miss watching his favorite shows with him and his hugs when we’d pick him up from preschool. I miss mixing and heating up his baby bottles and cleaning his binkys. I miss his mouth breathing when he passed out in his car seat. I miss scrubbing the spaghetti stains off his high chair. I miss playing on the roots on the trees in Medard Park and running across the boardwalk to hear my feet thunk against the wood. I miss hiding my DS under my pillow so I could play Pokémon Mystery Dungeon. I miss playing with my bakugan and pretending they were empires at war. I miss sleeping in my closet just because I could. I miss the dark parking garages and dull beige walls at USF. I miss sitting with my mom in the campus library. I miss going to Busch Gardens every weekend and riding the sky ride over the habitats. I miss taking the train through the safari area and being lulled to sleep by the clacking of the wheels. I miss running across the rope bridges in Jungala and riding Air Grover with my little brother. I miss the smell of chlorine and the cold unfriendly YMCA changing rooms. I miss the rock wall and the hot concrete. I miss swimming in pools and being afraid of the robot cleaning the deep end. I miss feeding the ducks stale bread. I miss my 8th grade history teacher. I miss the cold dark mornings in the car. I miss sitting on my backpack outside the door of my first period class. I miss skipping lunch and hiding in the darkness backstage in the auditorium. I miss the library after school. I miss cleaning the fish tanks in the marine science room. I miss the smell of formaldehyde. I miss walking from the school to the local library and hunkering down in the corner to watch Hetalia on my laptop. I miss listening to music as I walked through fog to the bus stop just before sunrise. I miss the dew on the bus windows and the painfully cold mornings and blue faux leather seats always cracked and peeling. I miss the snails hiding in the cracks of the bricks. I miss the warm summer rain and the windy fall days. I miss hiding in the nurse’s room during pep rallies.

[cellythefloshie]

ＩＭＡＧＩＮＥ: Breaking the Rules for Tyler Seguin *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ road wife edition ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* Celly’s 300 Follower Appreciation Requested by @starshine-hockey-girl

This blurb features an Original Character, Ella, who was the first Road Wife in the Road Wife Series. If I were to ever write a Road Wife Prequel series, these would be the major events. TW//Mentions of the pandemic as this would have taken place in the bubble. 

-Ella had been fortunate to be allowed to travel with the team to Toronto, and later Edmonton for the bubble 

-it was the only way for the teams to chase the Stanley Cup

-and Ella was one of the few media personnel to be allowed to come

-but it wasn’t without some extra push from the Lightning

-Ella was essential to their regular season success before the pandemic consumed the world

-so they weren’t going to leave Tampa without her

-Toronto had been lovely

-spending each night with a different Bolts players as they took on the east for the eastern conference championship title 

-first, they tackled Columbus

-where they were forced to remember the sweep that had taken them out of the playoffs the year before

-they had won the series 4-1

-then they played the Boston Bruins

-making quick work of them as well in a 4-1 series

-it was the Islanders that gave them the most trouble as they forced a game 6

-where the bolts would win the eastern conference title before travelling to Edmonton for the Stanley Cup final

-their competition: the Dallas Stars

-they had been an unexpected competitor as they had to play Colorado and Vegas who were favourites to win the cup

-but there was no ignoring the star power of the team

-especially when Tyler Seguin was so easy on the eyes

-he had caught her attention the moment she arrived at the hotel

-the Stars had the luxury of being in the same hotel for weeks already while the Bolts would settle in

-but he had very much made himself at home

-Ella would catch sight of him when the teams were ushered into their respective halls for their meals

-or on her way to the pool or weight rooms - areas reserved for the teams and their staff during their stay

-and he very much had eyes for her too

-each time he’d see her it left him smiling

-and leaning over to say something to his teammate that she could not see as his lips were concealed by his mask

-he didn’t approach her until after game 3 of the series when the bolts were up 2-1

-he had noticed something in her

-it attracted him

-but he also noticed that it attracted the bolts team

-she had a unique dynamic with all of them and it left him curiously

-Ella had been in the gym alone when he had come in shamelessly shirtless to

-and she did her best to ignore him

-but her eyes were drawn to how the sweat travelled down his body

-and she found herself changing her routine just enough to draw his attention to her body

-a seductress, she had a refined talent

-one that she had been working on for months as the road wife for the bolts

-but it always helped when she had already sparked someone’s attention

-Ella had only meant to tease him

-a subtle and cruel punishment for catching his stare 

-but it was difficult for her to ignore him

-he was easily the most attractive man on the Stars, and maybe even the league

-she knew it

-he knew it

-and he flaunted it

-she quickly became the one that was staring

-it was only then she noticed just how relaxed he was in the gym

-and that his choice of exercise was focused mainly on his upper body

-“holy shit, you’re injured” she blurted out before she could stop herself

-“nice to meet you too,” he scoffed and she couldn’t tell if he was amused or annoyed

-“I’m sorry I-”

-he brushed it off

-and the two of them made the proper introductions

-“you must be pretty important if they let you travel with the team-”

-“the most important only after the goaltender”

-“oh, you’re a cocky one, I like it. What do you do?”

-“that’s classified”

-and he’s laughing and that’s when she realized just how close they had become throughout their conversation

-he had abandoned his equipment and seated himself on the bench across from her

-she could practically feel his knee against her own as he sat leaned in close

-and she could feel her self-control begin to dwindle

-Ella could feel his warmth

-and the scent of him was intoxicating to her senses

-worst of all any fraternization with another team’s player was forbidden and it made him all the more tempting to her

-“i really should go”

-Ella quickly excused herself and did her best to push all thoughts of him to the back of her mind

-which was easier said than done when she was restricted to the bubble

-where ever she went he seemed to be there

-and then came game 4 

-there was no ignoring him there

-every time he was on the ice her eyes were on him

-and when the Stars scored, and he had a hand in it, he was looking to her

-not even Ella’s camera could hide her from him as she looked through the lens

-he knew exactly where she was

-and when the bolts had one 5-4 in OT, he was quick to find her in the hotel lobby

-“we almost had your boys there-”

-she met his flirtation with a smile but was quick to wave him off

-“I’m sorry, I’ve got some work to do-”

-he followed her to the elevator, his hand reaching for hers to stop her from taking it up all the while slipping a copy of his room key into her hand

-“come and find me once all your work is done”

-her stomach was up in her throat as she slipped the card away and went off to her appointment with Brayden Point

-Ella’s mind was lost on Seguin the entire time

-thinking of the key card that was hidden in the pocket of her pants 

-and it wouldn’t escape her

-not until she was done with her appointment and had ended up at his door

-when he answered he was wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants low on his hips

-and she was quick to draw back the mask she wore and close the space between them

-initiating a kiss

-his hands were quick to find her body, guiding her back into his room and only lingered away to push the door closed

-Ella stumbled back with him

-her hands stripping off her own clothes

-and she felt the rushed air of his swearing against her lips as he left the lingerie she still had on from the appointment with Point

-and she smiled because she know he’d think he put it just for him

-but it left her wishing she had

-Ella had been the road wife since the games in Sweden

-and she had lost a lot of herself since then

-she didn’t get to indulge herself in many things, having to abide by so many rules

-aside from the ones she selectively broke

-she served the men who played for the team

-but in the moment with Tyler’s hands on her body

-and his mouth on hers

-Ella felt like she had control of something for the first time in a long time

-and she wasn’t going to let that moment pass without taking full advantage of it

-she let him guide her back toward the bed

-falling back on it and looking up at him breathlessly

-he was hard for her

-desperate to be fucked after spending weeks abstaining from anything but the occasional handjob

-and yet he hesitated

-his injury

-“how bad is it?” she asked him slowly

-“this could be my last shot at the cup”

-his voice was broken as he spoke

-the injury could be career-ending

-and yet he fought through every game 

-because that’s what you did for the stanley cup

-“where?”

-“my hip”

-she crawled up the length of the bed and took the waist of his pants in her hands carefully

-Ella guided them down so that they pooled around his ankles

-and it didn’t surprise her when she found that he was not wearing underwear beneath

-he stepped out of them carefully as her hands took hold of his hips

-she kissed along his hipbone slowly, dragging her lips along the angles before moving over to the other

-then she guided him back down onto the bed so that he was comfortable among the pillows

-silently she over to straddle him

-she was going to be as quiet as possible to assure they weren’t caught

-Ella began to roll her hips slowly, careful as not to hurt him and coaxing Tyler into a further state of arousal

-arching forward she whispered in his ear, “just relax, let me-“

-the friction was enough to soak her panties with her own arousal-

-the wetness seeping down over his stiff cock

-Tyler grit his teeth as he lay back on the mattress,

-his hands coming up to grip the swells of her hips

-she pressed up onto her knees just long enough to push her panties to the side

-then Ella teased him with her wet entrance

-gliding it from balls to tip and leaving him glimmering with her arousal

-his fingers gripped her hips tighter, trying to guide her down into his cock

-but Ella made him wait

-she kissed his neck and chest slowly 

-her hand reaching down between the both of them to grasp at his cock

-she stroked it slowly, her wetness the perfect lubricant for each stroke

-Tyler cussed out under his breath as she pressed the tip of his cock to her entrance 

-his hips jutted up, silently begging her to take him into her core

-smirking, she obliged oh so slowly

-with her hands braced against his chest she rode him

-and kept him pinned to prevent him from exerting himself

-the last thing she needed was for him to injure himself further

-one of her hands left his shoulder to rub at her clit as she took him in as deep as she could muster

-but that wasn’t enough for Tyler 

-while he was getting closer with each rise and fall of her core around his cock he wanted her to writhe in pleasure

-strong hands lifted Ella from him before guiding her over into her hands and knees

-she opened her mouth to protest but he hushed her quickly 

-then as she were on all fours in front of him he slipped his cock deep inside her

-he fucked Ella hard, his hands gripping her hips and ass tight

-the side of her face was pressed firmly into the bed and she bit her lip to fight back moans

-Tyler was hitting even deeper now, reaching her body’s limit as the tip of his cock kissed her limits with each thrust

-Ella wanted to cry out in pleasure but she was forced to draw in a pillow and bite down on it hard

-only did he seize his movements when he felt her walls flex around him and he came deep inside her

-Ella and Tyler were both left panting

-and as he pulled out of her, he cussed at the sight of his seed

-she had broken so many rules by going to his room

-but she didn’t stop there as he lay out beside her

-and sleep took them both

-come morning Tyler awoke to the sound of her phone vibrating

-instead of waking Ella up he reached out to silence what he thought was an alarm

-only to find a series of reminders of our pregame appointments with 

-and he’s curious

-Ella must be the team's physiotherapist or masseuse 

-which meant she would have a record of their injuries

-and she knew about his so it was only fair

-so he clicked the topmost appointment

-and was shocked to find the terms and conditions of sleeping with one of the players

-“Tyler?”

-her voice was dreamy as she sat up

-but it only took seconds to wake up fully when she found him looking through her phone

-“so this, this is what you do?

-Ella found herself stuttering unsure of what to say in fear of his judgment but he was quick to put her at ease

-“this is fucking brilliant-”

-and then she pleaded with him

-“you can’t tell anyone”

-and he didn’t

-until game 6 when McDonagh interfered with Seguin on the play

-and his emotions high, came the trash talk 

-he looked straight had Ryan and told him “I fucked your wife”

-it left Ryan stoic

-he wanted to react

-but he knew he couldn’t

-not when there was already so much on the line

-this was the game they could win it all

-and they were not going to let the series become 4-3

-while he told the players on the bench when Tyler had said to him the Bolts locked it down and went on to win the game 2-0

-they would end up winning the series 4-2

-and because of her indiscretions

-Ella didn’t get to enjoy a single moment of the Tampa Bay Lightning becoming Stanley Cup Champions

-upon landing in Tampa, Ella was relieved of her wifely duties 

-and after the acquisition of Carter Verhague by the Florida Panthers Ella became the inaugural road wife for the team in south Florida

[vacationhomesintampabay]

We are located on a quiet cul de sac. The private yard and in-ground pool will make your stay relaxing and memorable

[the2amrevolution]

On Stray Kids' FNF

The song was already on my "songs that might make me cry (depending on my mood) playlist," but with the video, I'm now a sobbing mess

The song was written by Chris and Felix after the bushfires in 2019-2020 and the feelings of loss of so much of the native environment of their home.

I was okay until it cut to Seungmin riding a bike and enjoying being outside.

I miss outside. I want to be out exploring and finding all sorts of plants and animals I've only seen in photos. I want to run along a trail and climb over rocks and ride down a river again.

I want to be able to take photos of things I find beautiful. I want to be able to sit in the park and paint the scenery like Hyunjin. I want to explore new cities and sit outside at a cafe like Lee Know. I want to read a book in the sun like Felix. I want to have fun with my friends on the beach.

I started having trouble keeping up with my friends' activity levels when I was 12. If I tried to run and climb and keep pace with everyone else, I'd go into bronchospasm. I started getting left behind. When I was struggling to climb the stairs back up Tallulah Gorge at 13 years old because I couldn't breathe, one friend lagged behind to stay with me so I wouldn't be completely left behind.

I was treated like I just didn't do enough in my free time. Like I just wasn't outdoorsy or just didn't try. It didn't matter that I loved animals and the science of nature or that if you gave me access to a pool I would spend all day in it. It was my fault that I couldn't breathe or started to feel sick or started having difficulties with heat that would make me nearly pass out even though I had the same activity level as most of my friends and drank the same amount of water or more or ate the same amounts of food. It didn't matter that I met getting launched from a raft or stuck at the bottom of a waterfall with laughter and eagerness to get back on the river. It didn't matter that I always wanted to see the snake or the bug or the weird thing someone found in the woods.

I just wasn't "outdoorsy."

When the outdoors makes you sick, its easier to not be outdoorsy.

In Japan I had more chance to be outdoors again. I still struggled to climb up the "easy date outing, women in low heels, and children can gmdo it mountain," but I figured that was because I was used to the flatness of Tampa and Middle GA, not mountains.

I was able to go to parks and enjoy the outdoors a little more over time because I was walking all the time. I did get a little more heat acclimated, but I also knew how to correct for the amount I was sweating and could control when I got into air conditioning more than I could at a band practice. Running still wasn't an option (I pretty much stopped running outside of emergencies at 13 because of the bronchiospasm) so I couldn't play soccer with my friends, but I could still cheer them on. I was unfortunately dealing with too much anxiety to do all the things I wanted to be able to do on my own.

I continued at that level of able to be outside and okay walking and at a casual pace for a while. I could do shorter, strength based work like carrying things across camp or setting up a tent, and I could walk for miles with just normal muscle fatigue.

Then late 2015 the ability I had started to fall away. I've been trying to get it back since then. Chasing after the ability I did have and longing for a life where I could just walk my dog around my neighborhood without having to plan the whole day around it. Wishing I didn't spend 75% of my time on a queen size mattress.

Ive been trying so hard. I've looked for any answer. Any remedy. Any experiment I can run on myself to try to claw some of my life back. Since November 2021, I have gotten some back. A tiny bit, but some. I have proper diagnoses. I have more science to try to piece together my medical puzzle. I've struggled with my body and my brain, trying to understand so I can try to make things better. I have a sleep study coming up that will hopefully lead to improvements. I have an experiment next week that could really help or it could be a really awful waste of time.

I'm trying so hard to catch up with the life I wish I had.

"I run and chase after you, even if it's impossible."

[hazelenergy]

16, 26, 30, 68

16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment?

Little hungry? Like I'm hungry all. the. time. But this is the early signs of "go hunt soon" before I turn into a cranky bitch levels of hungry.

I'm also mildly frustrated with some safehouse plans, this is moving very slow. But we got a consensus of what Tampa should be, now we just need to get the safety nets up. And those were there but got trashed so. Gotta build new ones. From scratch. Sigh.

26: What are you craving right now?

Someone with a sour resonance. Not feeling sweet all the time.

30: What’s irritating you right now?

Vincent being a teenager. The boy thankfully knows that Axe isn't a replacement for a shower. But, the pool is not.

Nathan blowing up my phone. I do not want to hang out any more than I need to. If I had an easy way out of this, I would've done it by now.

Griffin blowing up my phone. Dude please. Let the blood go back to your head.

Charlotte blowing up my phone.

I eat last. I make sure the others are stable first. Then I can hunt.

68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?

Vincent, actually. The car is the place to have private conversations. He didn't have a lot of driving experience, so we've been building his confidence there. I was driving us back home and got talking about what he wanted to do when he got back to OKC. I know he's not happy here, I nearly gave him whiplash with high expectations and "dont fuck up or we'll all be killed" survival talk. But at least he has some independence. He didn't really have a good answer yet. I told him he didn't have to have one yet, but we could get the all clear any night. He's made a lot of progress, I don't want him to feel like he's gotta start all over when he goes back.

Then he asked me what I wanted to do, and my answers were to apologize to Prince Moineau, play pinapple pinball in Nick's obstacle course, and not overstay my welcome. Maybe there's a chess rematch somewhere in there.

[wendylynnsarasota]

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