#buy Airline miles

[kanewillam]

The Points Trader is an online portal that lets you buy Airline miles. Discounted points are available, and the business will provide you a code for your account so you can use it to pay for your travels. Additionally, they have a reward program where you may gain extra points for every dollar you spend traveling with one of their affiliated airlines.

[afeelgoodblog]

The Best News of Last Month - July 2024

🏅- Talk about an Olympic comeback!

1. U.S. proposes ban on airline fees for seating parents next to kids

Parents should't have to pay a fee to sit next to their children when flying, according to the White House, which is moving to ban airlines from charging families extra to be seated together.

Under a rule proposed Thursday by the Department of Transportation, airlines would be required to seat parents and kids 13 and younger together free of charge when adjacent seating is available at booking.

2. A spinal injury killed Adriana Ruano's dream as a gymnast. She just won Guatemala's first Olympic gold medal as a shooter.

Ruano was training for the 2011 world championships in gymnastics, a qualifier for the London Olympics the following year, when she felt pain in her back. An MRI showed the then-16-year-old had six damaged vertebrae — a career-ending injury.

But on Wednesday, she came back as a shooter and won Guatemala's first Olympic gold medal.

3. Woman swept out to sea rescued after surviving 37 hours in 6.5' waves, drifted over 50 miles.

A Chinese woman who was swept out to sea while swimming at a Japanese beach was rescued 37 hours later after drifting in an inflatable swim ring more than 80 kilometers (50 miles) in the Pacific Ocean, officials said Thursday.

4. Afghan Sisters Escape The Taliban To Achieve Olympic Dreams

Sisters Yulduz and Fariba Hashimi are set to become the first female cyclists from Afghanistan to compete in the Olympics. The siblings fled their country after the Taliban seized power in 2021 and cracked down on women's rights, including banning women from participating in sports.

5. Stem cell therapy cures man with type 2 diabetes

A 59-year-old man had been suffering from diabetes for 25 years, needing more and more insulin every day to avoid slipping into a diabetic coma and was at risk of death. But then Chinese researchers cured his disease for the first time in the world. The patient received a cell transplant in 2021 and has not taken any medication since 2022.

6. Seventh person likely 'cured' of HIV, doctors announce

A 60-year-old German man is likely the seventh person to be effectively cured from HIV after receiving a stem cell transplant, doctors announced on Thursday. The man received a bone marrow transplant for his leukaemia in 2015. The procedure, which has a 10 percent risk of death, essentially replaces a person's immune system.

7. Every country has now banned the use of leaded gasoline in cars

Three and a half decades later, in 2021, Algeria became the last country to ban it. Leaded gasoline is now banned from being used in road vehicles in every country. It is a big win for the health of people around the world.

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That's it for this month :)

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[urhoneycombwitch]

love light gleams

rockstar!Eddie Munson x Reader Eddie and the band are stranded for Christmas. at least the pay phone's working.

foreword: haven’t heard from these cuties in awhile!! here’s my other fic of these two but not necessary to read beforehand. just a bit of schmoopy holiday fluff for the soul <3 (in the timeline, this is set in the early days of Corroded’s first tour where they’re just on the cusp of public notability/recognition)

cw: holiday fluff, alcohol/drinking, R is referred to with occasional she/her pronouns, R is related to Joyce (no specificity), Eddie gets a public boner™️, implied smut

wc: 3.1k

___

Goddamn Murphy and his law.

First, the tour bus breaks down in the middle of Where the Fuck Are We, Idaho, and Jeff maybe could’ve fixed it in time to get them over the next leg of the trip- if it weren’t for the giant snowstorm blizzard from hell. 

After much pulling of hair and frozen appendages, the band decided to call it quits and splurge some of the quickly dwindling Road Fund on a motel for the night; the idea of ones own room and a hot shower swiftly smothered by the front desk clerk. 

“Four rooms, the night before Christmas?” The man looked about as haggard as the rest of them, but Eddie couldn’t find it in his heart to feel too bad with the way the guy was chuckling mirthfully. “Got a better chance of seein’ Santa himself.”

Eddie grit his teeth and paid for a single. Without cussing. A feat that should land him on the Nice List, forever. 

When the group finally trudged into the lone spare room (spreading out as much as could be allowed, they were all sick of each other, at this point), Eddie used the phone to get ahold of their tour manager, who managed to top the evening off with the worst news of all.

“Christmas show at Garter’s is cancelled,” Eddie had announced to his sullen men after slamming the phone back on its hook. “Looks like we’re sitting ducks for the holidays.”

After dejected calls home and a few last desperate, futile attempts to charm airline employees over the phone, Corroded Coffin trooped through the bitter weather to hole up at the only bar in town.

Jeff, Gareth, and Jacob all settled into a booth with minimal complaints, gloved hands wrapping eagerly around mugs of hot toddies while Eddie simmered and stewed at the end of the bench, unable to sit still.

He should probably make the best of a bad situation, buy his boys another round and muster up some goodwill, but Eddie isn’t ready for an attitude adjustment quite yet.

He’s thinking of you, nearly two thousand miles east, cozy at home in Hawkins. In Eddie’s mind’s eye, you’re curled up by the fireplace in soft flannel-print pajamas (the pair he let you ‘borrow’ years ago), munching on sugar cookies and looking deliciously peaceful. 

Jeff throws him a bone, slides two quarters down the table to Eddie, saying- “Go call her, man. You’ll be annoying as hell until you do.”

Emerson chimes in, pointing towards the front doors a touch too gleefully- “Only pay phone’s out front.”

Eddie scoffs- figures, they’d try to get rid of him- but he can’t blame them too much, seeing as Jeff is right. 

Damn Murphy and his damn law. Eddie scoops up the change with an exaggerated flourish and stomps out, icy wind swallowing all the noise of the bar the second his boots hit snow. 

He follows the gravel trail that leads to the glass phone booth, the whole structure at a poorly-crafted slant that makes the door stick; Eddie shoves his shoulder against the iced-over seam four fucking times before it cracks and gives. 

Shoulder smarting, Eddie closes himself inside the booth, and with movements made clumsy by mittens and cold, loads the quarters and dials home. 

The trailer landline’s dial tone drones. With each ring, Eddie thunks a mittened hand against his forehead and watches the frost of his breath suspended in the air. 

You don’t answer. 

His shoulder stings, and he rubs at it, petulant, quarters clinking back down into the tray. He reloads them, grizzling all the while, and punches in Jonathan’s number, banking on the fact that you might be at your aunt’s place for Christmas Eve festivities.

No luck there, either. Eddie’s close to using the returned quarters as eye covers and laying down in the snow, letting hypothermia guide him to the afterlife- when suddenly, inexplicably, the phone on the hook rings.

The first time, Eddie thinks he imagined it. The second time, it jolts him into action, hardly daring to hope as he snatches the receiver up and speaks, breathless- “Hello?”

“Eddie!”

He doesn’t get caught up in the logistics, the why and hows just yet. Upon hearing your voice on the line, full and sweet after so many droning tones, Eddie slumps with relief against the booth’s angled window pane. 

“Sweetheart. Hi. Holy shit, are you a sound for sore ears. God, I fucking miss you.” Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose between clothed fingers, biting back tears of joy when your giggles like tinkling bells surround him.

“I miss you too. So much. Gareth called earlier to give me this number, said you’ve been a pest and might benefit from hearing my voice,” you tease, sounding like you’ve cupped the phone around your mouth to hide your words from others.

Eddie is basking in it, the simple act of you speaking doing wonders for his whole system, like a mug of cocoa for the soul. He makes a mental note to do something nice for Gareth, at a later date when he’s not sick of looking at his bandmates. 

“Bet he did,” Eddie concedes. “It’s been a total nightmare shitshow from hell over here, babe. I’m barely holding it together without my handler.”

“Poor thing.” You’re sympathetic but there’s still a playful edge to your voice when you ask, “Don’t you know it’s almost Christmas? Being a Scrooge only gets you so far.”

“Noted.” Normally, Eddie would be better at matching your energy, but he feels like all the wit got sucked out of him somewhere between here and the bar. “Keep talkin’. The tips of my ears aren’t quite warm yet. Wearing anything slutty on this holiday eve?”

You laugh, again (a balm, a blanket, et al cheesy romantic idioms), and Eddie can practically hear the eye roll this time- “Oh yeah, dressed real sexy for Aunt Joyce’s family supper. Light wash Levi’s and everything.”

Eddie makes various dramatic horny noises and you snicker. In the following lull, the noise from the party in Hawkins plays muted in the background. Glasses clinking, indistinct chatter from other people he loves, puffs of your breath quiet in comparison.

“Sounds noisy,” he says, and when you sigh, there’s a weary undertone that plucks a chord in Eddie’s heart.

“Yeah. It is. Gonna come rescue me? My knight in shining armor?”

“Jesus christ,” Eddie groans, hard plastic receiver pressing into his temple. “You know I would in a heartbeat, princess. Gareth told you all the flights are fucked?”

“Yeah. Guess we’re just shit outta luck, this year.”

“Two more weeks,” Eddie says, clawing at the only hopeful thread he’s got left. “Two more weeks of this horseshit and January third, baby, my ass is on a plane to you. If it kills me. Seriously.”

“It’s not gonna kill you.” Buttery soft and gentler than he thinks he deserves, you say, “However much you’re missin’ me, I’m feeling the same. I know it sucks to be apart right now, but I’m so proud of you. And the band. But mostly you. I’m probably too partial.”

Eddie grins and lets the praise wash over him, tucks it away for a dreary day (which’ll be tomorrow, at this rate). “Good thing somebody is. Keeps me sane in this godforsaken wasteland.”

He’s being dramatic and you both know it- but since Eddie’s much worse off in terms of post-call comfort, you let it slide. After drawn out, gushy goodbyes and promises to call sometime tomorrow, Eddie treks back reluctantly into the heat of the bar.

In the time it took to make the call, the place had filled out- mostly farmers and locals eager to celebrate the upcoming holiday with whiskey and gossip; Eddie squeezes through a sea of knit scarves and bobbled hats to get back to the table. 

Upon their Fearless Leader’s return, Jeff’s the only one with balls enough to look Eddie in the eye when he says, “There’s a fan of yours at the corner booth who wants a signature.”

“Gotta be shittin’ me.” Not yet seated, Eddie leans into his fists on the table, but he’s quick to swallow his irritation, even as he mutters expletives under his breath. Bona fide fans of the band are still rare enough to be exciting, and he really, really doesn’t want to be an asshole to anyone, especially not a fan, not on Christmas.

Plus, Eddie’s feeling softer, more charitable, since he got to speak with you. Unfortunately for his not-yet-curated rockstar persona, you make him a better person. Even from across the country.

To show his displeasure with the general situation, Eddie swipes a tall-necked beer from Gareth’s collection and downs a quarter of it on his way across the bar. There’s a line of booths along the back wall, partially hidden by the centralized bar; strings of Christmas lights and tinsel twinkle from the rafters along the path Eddie takes, while an old stereo system plays local holiday FM. 

Eddie winds his way between tables and the bustling bar, trying to come up with a game plan to make this interaction as friendly and speedy as possible- but when he rounds the corner and sees the booth, he freezes.

There you are. Sitting in a bar booth in the middle of Nowhere, Idaho, wearing your downy winter jacket and a smile bright as a homing beacon.

It’s like his brain is on a ten second delay, everything between his ears a high pitched ring as he takes you in while anything that isn’t you melts away into insignificance. 

“Hi,” you say, beaming, rising out of the booth, brimming with excitement.

Eddie almost trips over his own boot to close the distance, pulling you into his arms, wrapping them tight around your shoulders. He buries his face into the side of your neck, breathing deep, memorizing for the next time you’re not this close.

“What the fuck,” he murmurs, hoarse against your hair, and he feels the giddy laughter tremble through your whole frame. 

You’re clinging to him, too, a big handful of his flannel in your left hand, the outline of his skull in the other, thumb sweeping under all those curls, soothing. “Hi, baby. Hi. Couldn’t stand being away from you any longer.”

Eddie pulls away to kiss your cheek, then mirrors the action, then behind your ear and down down until you’re giggling, pushing at his forehead in protest- “Don’t you wanna know how I’m here?”

“Santa,” Eddie says, confident, squeezing your hips. “Or God. Who I will totally believe in and pledge my soul to for bringing you here.”

“I don’t think you can pledge something that’s already mine.” You punctuate this with a poke to his ribs, then a pull of his hand, and Eddie follows you into the booth, sitting close enough to keep a hand tracking a soft path over your thigh. 

It was Gareth’s idea, apparently- he called home a few days ago, confirmed that you were equally eager to pull off the surprise. The original plan was to meet at the band’s next tour stop, but when the Christmas Day gig got cancelled and a blizzard rolled in, your plans went hinky.

“It was Uncle Wayne, in the end.” You kiss the back of Eddie’s knuckles, and he feels a tender part of his heart thump in response. “He covered the extra cost of a last-minute ticket, figured out the bus route to this place for me, too. Said to tell you Merry Christmas.”

Eddie could cry from the wave of gratefulness that swells in his chest, shaking his head in disbelief. There’s a shimmering line of tears in your own eyes, and he can’t have that, so in lieu of words he leans in and kisses you.

Your lips slot perfect and familiar against his own, tasting the sweetness from an earlier candy cane. Eddie’s tongue traces the contours of the inside of your mouth, probably a bit too familiar for a public setting but fuck it, it’s Christmas and no one’s watching.

The two of you are mostly sequestered in the corner of the big room, the added bulk to Eddie’s frame from his jacket doing a perfect job of shielding you from view, happily backed against the wall with one leg draped over his thigh.

When Eddie finally pulls back, just enough to see you, your hand slips under the hem of his shirt, fingers warming against his ribs. There’s an inked sparrow you find by memory, one of your favorite places to touch and kiss.

Your thumb runs over the familiar spot, the signals of his skin decipherable to you alone. 

Eddie fills his lungs with air and tries to quell the stiff wave of arousal, and in the same breath, winces, remembering- “Well, sweet thing, I’d invite you back to my place but I’m sharing a one-room with a whole pack of miscreants.”

Eddie’s about to suggest raiding the motel’s blanket stock and sleeping in the van, just the two of you, when something like guilt pinches at your features. “Um. Yeah. About that. I may have bullied Gareth into getting me your manager’s number, and I also may have called him from the airport and chewed him out a bit.”

When Eddie’s brows shoot up in shock, delight, you wince, cutting him off before a word can get in edgewise- “It’s not right that he left you all stranded out here, on fucking Christmas, no less- you’re the ones funding that asshole’s cozy little vacation.” 

With the strength of your conviction, you tilt your chin up, eyes glittering and defiant- “I told him if he wasn’t gonna take care of you boys, I’d take care of him. Get right on a flight just to kick his ass.”

The hand still at Eddie’s ribs flexes with residual anger, your nails digging a quick flash of welcome pain that helps tether him to the present, mind almost completely fogged over with lust at the thought of you bitching out his piece of shit manager. 

“So…” Eddie starts, clears his throat, tries to tug at his pant leg subtly but catches the moment that sharp spark of your hostility melts into a smirk; you drum your fingers against him with a tilted head as he finds his voice- “So he’s gonna, what, promise to be less of an asshole in the new year, is that the deal?”

“Yeah. That and a couple of hotel rooms magically opened up for my favorite rockstar. Four of ‘em, enough for the boys to each have their own- if you don’t mind sharing with me, that is.”

Eddie wants to swallow the coy tilt of your mouth but settles for kissing you again, veins zipping with glee and good cheer; he pulls you in impossibly closer, tugging by the lapels of your coat, nose to nose while you giggle, smothering his affections- “Holy shit. Babe, you’re the rockstar. Replace me with a cardboard cutout and I don’t think anyone would know the difference. What in the fuck are we still doing here?”

Eddie moves to pull you both from the booth, overzealous in his excitement; you shift to keep your weight on the bench, Eddie plopping back down with a little oof while you chastise, “Hold on, I have to give the boys their room keys and I wanna wish them a merry Christmas! Plus, you should probably give yourself a second to- uh- settle down.”

You’re doing a poor job of concealing your amusement and Eddie groans, arms wrapping around his middle and hunching forward, head hitting the table with a dull thunk. “Fuck’s sake. I’m a short walk away from getting you alone in a warm room with a real bed and you’re telling me not to pop a stiffy at the thought? I’m but a mere mortal, have some compassion, jesus christ.”

“Nope, just me.” An escaped lock of dark hair gets caught between your fingertips, then tucked behind his ear. When you lean in to kiss the exposed spot shivers erupt down Eddie’s spine, even more when you whisper, “Can call me whatever you want once you get me in that room, though.”

After a few more minutes in which Eddie attempts to recall every unsexy thing that has ever happened in the span of his life, you’re both presentable enough to weave hand in hand back to Corroded’s table. 

There’s a flurry of exclamations and hugs, well wishes and present-distribution (because of course you packed everyone’s gifts, seeing as you’re some sort of angel or perhaps a fae being from Valinor, Eddie hasn’t decided yet). 

Eddie buys another round of drinks for the troupe, and tousles Gareth’s hair while the other two are distracted with Jake’s new Lego set. “Merry Christmas, kid. I owe you one.”

Gareth’s cheeks are rosy from the heater and the alcohol as he gives a nod of acknowledgement; they clink beers, and all is forgiven.

Once everyone is set up with the hotel address and their individual room keys, Eddie plucks at your elbow, patience stretching thin until the two of you are finally, finally borne out into the cold on a wave of goodbyes.

The snow is blindingly white, even in the low light of a winter’s eve; Eddie blinks, the image of your face tipped up to the sky burned into the black of his eyelids.

A perfectly-formed snowflake lands on the high point of your cheek, dissolving into your skin. Eddie kisses the spot and winds an arm around your low back, pleased when you bundle into his side.

“Our chariot awaits,” he declares, sweeping a grand arm at the endless snow and empty street, which makes you laugh again.

“Come on.” Your eye roll is fond as you pull Eddie’s steps in line with yours, setting off in the direction of a hot bath and silk sheets. “Let’s see if we can’t find us a little Christmas cheer.”

Eddie thinks he might be starting to like Idaho.

[vintagelasvegas]

Dunes Hotel & Casino '55-'93

Dunes, 1955. Kodachrome photo from Charles Phoenix.

Timeline of the Dunes

’53-54: First announced as Hotel Araby (RJ 11/1/53), then became known as Vegas Plaza, and Hotel Deauville (RJ 1/20/54, 4/23/54). Named the Dunes by the time of groundbreaking, 6/22/54 (RJ).

’55: May 23, original owners Robert Rice, Al Gottesman, Joseph Sullivan, Alexander Barad and Jason Tarsey open the $4 million Dunes Hotel-Casino with 200 rooms on an 85-acre site. Architect J Replogle, designer R. Dorr Jr. Signs and Sultan figure by YESCO (RJ 5/23/55).

’55: Aug., Dunes leased by Sands partners and reopened in Sep. Subsequent financial difficulties cause the casino to be closed, 1/56.

’56: Bill Miller, Major A. Riddle, and Robert Rice are licensed to reopen the casino in May. In Nov., the license is changed to add M&R Investment Co. as the company that operates the Dunes.

’57: Jan., Minsky’s Follies opens the first topless show at a Strip resort.

’59: Convention Hall addition.

’61: Olympic Wing addition.

’62: Riddle sells 15 percent of the stock to M&R Investment Corp., whose stockholders now include Charles Rich, Sidney Wyman and George Duckworth. Tower groundbreaking, 10/21/62.

’64: Construction of "Miracle Mile" golf course. Sultan figure moved to golf course in May. In Oct-Nov, the 180-ft sign is installed in Oct., and switched on 11/12/64.

’65: Jun, opening of Dome of the Sea and the 24-story tower. Dunes Golf Course opened.

’69: Continental Connector Corp., a publicly traded company, buys the Dunes in a $59M stock transfer in May. In Dec, the SEC charges that CCC defrauded stockholders in the proxy statement it issued offering to buy the Dunes. CCC settles the SEC complaint in ’76. At this time, bankers E. Parry Thomas and Jerome Mack are principals in M&R and CCC.

’74: In Sep., Gaming Control Board files a complaint against the Dunes for catering and "comping" alleged Kansas City mob chief Nick Civella, one of 11 members of the Black Book, Nevada's List of Excluded Persons. The Dunes ultimately was fined $10,000.

’75: In Feb., Morris Shenker buys an interest in M&R through his IJK Nevada Inc. Later in the year, Dunes owners Shenker and Riddle are asked about allegations that reputed mobster Anthony Spilotro had "set up shop" at the Dunes. Spilotro reportedly was spending up to 14 hours a day in the poker room and appeared to be using it as an office.

’76: In Jun., Shenker sues the Teamsters Union for $140M for backing out of a loan commitment, which was to be used to add another 1,000 rooms. In Oct., Dept of Labor intervenes, saying the loan was prohibited. In ’80, Shenker's breach of contract lawsuit is tossed out of court by U.S. District Judge Roger Foley.

’79: South tower opened in summer. Shenker announces the Dunes will construct a $65M hotel-casino in Atlantic City. FBI affidavits are unsealed claiming that two confidential informants "both advised that the Kansas City organized crime group headed by Nick Civella has a concealed interest fronted by Shenker at the Dunes." Shenker denies the allegations.

’80: In Jan., alleged members of the NY Columbo family are discovered staying for free at the Dunes. Gaming Control Board Chairman Richard Bunker says the "comping" did not violate the law or gaming regulations. Later, four of the group, including Joseph Columbo Jr., are indicted on charges of obtaining money under false pretenses in an airline ticket reimbursement scam. The indictment is dismissed by District Judge Joseph Pavlikowski and in ’84 was reinstated by the NV Supreme Court.

’82: Aug., the $17M Oasis Casino opens, doubling the existing casino space at the resort. Design by Farris Alexander Congdon Architects. New 2-floor casino includes Xanadunes electronic gaming area, and Video-Video arcade space (RJ 8/13/82, 8/20/82).

’82: Dec., Stuart and Clifford Perlman agree to buy the Dunes for $185M. The brothers loan Shenker $4M and $2.9M of that sum is used to pay overdue federal payroll taxes and avoid the seizure of assets by the IRS. Shenker denies the resort is on the verge of bankruptcy. Docs filed with the SEC indicate the property is in default on a number of loans and a number of creditors threaten foreclosure action.

’83: The Perlmans assume management of the Dunes in Apr., and operate it for four months before the sale collapses in Aug.

’83: Oct., a foreclosure sale of the Dunes' golf course and some other property is averted when problems are worked out with the trustees of the Hotel & Restaurant Employees and Bartenders Int’l Union and the trustees of the Nevada Culinary and Bartenders Pension Trust, which are owed $1.5M for non-payment of union benefits.

’83: Dec., a federal jury in Las Vegas decides that Shenker owes $34M to the So. Nevada Culinary and Bartenders Pension Fund for defaulting on loans in ’73-’75 to two of Shenker's land companies, Sierra Charter Corp. and IJK Nevada.

’84: Feb., Shenker files for personal bankruptcy in Missouri to protect his assets from the $34M judgment. The IRS claims that the 78-year-old Shenker owes $66M in unpaid taxes stretching back 20 years. Shenker's bankruptcy filing claimed assets of $82M and liabilities of $197M, the largest debt ever recorded in the St. Louis bankruptcy court.

’84: Mar., Valley Bank of Nevada heads a consortium to lend the Dunes $68.6M as part of a debt restructuring plan.

’84: May, John Anderson buys a controlling interest in the Dunes with his JBA Investments Inc. Anderson signs a $25M note to pay the Perlmans for the $35M they invested in the resort. Shenker's 26 percent interest remains under the control of the bankruptcy court.

’84: Jun., the FBI alleges that Shenker approved $600,000 in kickbacks to alleged Milwaukee crime boss Frank Balistrieri in connection with loans from the Teamsters Union to Allen Glick, who later bought four Las Vegas resorts before being forced out of gaming by Nevada officials. Shenker denies the kickback allegations. No charges are filed.

’85: Feb., Dunes is cited for failing to retrofit the property to meet fire safety standards. About $2.2M is spent on retrofitting during the first half of the year.

’85: May, former Gaming Control Board Chairman Richard Bunker leaves his position as corporate treasurer of Circus Circus Ent. to become president of the Dunes.

’85: Aug., Jack Bona buys out the Dunes' 49 percent interest in its Atlantic City property in a $21M sale. The next day, Bona places the property in a Ch. 11 reorganization in bankruptcy court.

’85: Sept. 27, Dunes defaults on the $68.6M bank loan and Valley Bank moves ahead with the legal steps required for a foreclosure sale Dec. 23.

’85: Oct. 24, Federal marshals begin seizing cash from the Dunes casino cage to pay a $2.7M judgment obtained by trustees of the Culinary and Bartenders unions. They accept a $200,000 check and leave the cash in the cage.

’85: Nov. 1, Marshals return to collect the remaining $17M owed to the unions but are halted by a last-minute restraining order.

’85: Nov. 6, Dunes' operating company. M&R Investment, files for reorganization under Chapter 11.

’87: Masao Nangaku buys the Dunes for $157M.

’92: Nov., Dunes bought by Mirage Inc. for $75M.

’93: Jan. 26, closed. North tower and sign demolished 10/27/93.

‘94: Jul. 20, South tower demolished.

A major source for the timeline is Jane Ann Morrison. Judge Approves Payday for Dunes Employees. Review-Journal, 11/7/85.

Dunes, 1955. This is the original layout of the resort, before the addition of the Convention Hall and Olympic wing. Photo by Ed Screeton. Dunes Hotel Photograph Collection (PH-00281), UNLV Special Collections & Archives.

Late '64. The 180-foot sign has recently been completed. Dome of the Sea restaurant and the hotel tower are nearing completion. Culinary Workers Union Local 226 Photographs, UNLV Special Collections & Archives.

[lovemyromance]

The IC goes on a Plane

Rhys: regrets not taking the private jet. He tries to buy the entire airline after a 30 min flight delay and critiques everything about the first class seats he booked for everyone. Changes into the pajamas on the plane the first chance he gets and tries to cajole Feyre into joining the mile high club. The flight attendant catches them and threatens to send him to Coach, so they settle for heavy petting instead, making Nesta almost lose her appetite when she passes by them.

Azriel: Airport Dad. Has all the travel documents, herds everyone through the airport and waits patiently, makes sure everyone gets onto the plane. Then, falls asleep sitting straight up in his seat (even though his seat fully reclines). Refuses to put the divider up between him and Elain and makes sure no flight attendant bothers her as she sleeps during the flight.

Elain: Airport Mom. Packs snacks and all the essentials (including earplugs for Azriel, extra allergy meds for Cassian and a mini lint roller for Rhys). Has the cutest airport fit and does heatless curls on the plane that inspires all the flight attendants and they love her and give her extra snacks. Watches a romcom and grisly thriller back to back on the plane and then falls asleep to her pre-downloaded Spotify Reiki music, holding Azriel's hand.

Feyre: The restless flier. Watches a grand total of 7 movies in an 8 hour flight, including one international film she does NOT understand but cries over anyways (it was Hachi). She almost joins the Mile High Club with Rhys, but after they get caught by the flight attendant AND Nesta, she's too embarrassed to even look at him and puts the divider up between them. Elain offered her an adult coloring book which she eagerly takes. She tries the entire menu and it upsets her stomach, so she spends the rest of the flight watching Crazy Rich Asians & chugging Pepto Bismol... also from Elain.

Nesta: The annoyed traveler. Already angry about the flight delay, she obsessively tracks the flight map the entire time to make sure they land at a reasonable hour. Brought two books for the plane, and had to reluctantly share one with Cassian when he started getting too annoying. Puts in headphones immediately and doesn't take them out until after they land. Gets disgusted at Feysand and demands Cassian give her the window seat so she's further away from them. Smacks Cassian more than once when he snores during the flight. Puts the divider up. Gets bored of reading and then makes out with Cassian until the flight attendant tells them to knock it off. Threatens to fight the flight attendant and Cassian has to hold her back, bribing her with the expensive chocolates ... that Elain also brought just in case

Cassian: Came woefully unprepared for the flight. Bought a giant pack of gummy worms and a box of pringles at the airport. Digs through the entire amenities kit and oohs and aahs and tries out every lotion and serum and cologne. Helps Feyre finish off the entire menu she ordered. Watches one movie and then bothers Nesta for a book because he's bored, which immediately puts him to sleep. Nesta wakes him up and he enjoys a heavy make out sesh. Polishes off his gummy worms and then falls asleep to an episode of Friends. Has to be shaken awake when they've landed and it's time to leave

Mor: the relaxed flier. Packed some Xanax for the flight, immediately washes it down with two glasses of wine upon boarding and passes out for the entire flight. The dude in the seat is trying to hit on her but she doesn't even notice, she just puts on her eye mask and snores against her window. Sleeps through dinner and the light snacks they offer throughout the flight. Wakes up for a groggy half hour before the flight to do her makeup and request a Bloody Mary.

Amren: Refused to come. Offered to babysit Nyx just to have a reason to stay home. The real reason is because she is afraid of planes but won't admit it. Stayed at home and made Varian come to her. Makes sure to enjoy every moment of peace and quiet with everyone gone. Honestly, forgets they all left and is surprised when they come back.

[sirfrogsworth]

Froggie's (Almost) Very Productive Day 2: Electric Boogaloo

So, the plan was to have my one productive day and then rest for however long the consequences of post exertional malaise decide they want to take.

But I needed to bring the working key fob back to the tire place so they could calibrate the tire pressure sensors. So, the day after my day, I napped until about 4pm and summoned the last bit of energy I had to finish this task.

After they fixed the sensors, I looked out over a beautiful sunset in the Discount Tire parking lot.

It's weird the places you find beauty sometimes.

I was about a mile away from my family's favorite pizza place. We've been going there since I was a tadpole. So I decided to grab a pizza as my Thanksgiving meal.

I didn't realize that the day before Thanksgiving would be just about the busiest night of the year. And they have the world's worst parking lot, half of which is a steep hill, and they didn't have enough spaces.

Google Maps has flattened the appearance of the hill. That thing is nearly a 40 degree angle. If anyone with a sports car wants a pizza, they are going to scrape their paint trying to get it.

So, I tried to park around back. Unfortunately someone was exiting the back parking lot and there is only one lane.

So... I backed up... into a pole.

I was going extremely slow and I barely tapped it. But I still felt pretty stupid. Thankfully no scratches or dents.

I finally find parking and head inside.

The Italian kitsch is always a "welcome" sight.

Every time I look it takes me like 10 seconds to figure out the configuration of his face. I find it is best to look at the mustache first, and then orient yourself from there.

I head to the counter and she asks for my name, assuming I am picking up a phone order. I explained I was just "dropping in" and then she gave me an "oof" face. The wait was nearly two hours. I told her I could get a few things from the grocery store and return for my pizza. She charges my card and I hop back in my car. Just as I was about to exit the parking lot of doom, a customer from Angelo's starts yelling at me.

"You forgot your card!"

Clearly my brain fog is starting to get to me. I left my damn bank card on the counter. So I have to exit the parking lot, drive into another parking lot, turn around, and then park again. I retrieved my card and headed to Nice Schnucks.

The GPS took me on a wild journey to the NS. I've lived in this area for 40 years and I had no idea some of these roads existed. I'm sure it was 3 minutes faster or whatever, but I think I would have preferred a route with streetlights. Unlit streets give me a bit of anxiety. Especially if I don't know them.

I get to NS and realize I was about to have the same problem I did at the pizza place. It was the night before Thanksgiving and the entire neighborhood was scrambling to get food for the next day.

I filled up on soups, frozen pizzas, and I got a few more bottles of my beloved soda. There is a Shirley Temple flavor I have yet to try. (Update: A rare Fitz's fail. Tasted like cough medicine.) And then I headed to the madness of the self-checkout.

I managed to kill about an hour, but my legs were getting wobbly. I really shouldn't have gone back out this soon. And I probably should have just headed home after the car was fixed. But I feared if I didn't do *something* special for Thanksgiving I would probably have a difficult time being all alone.

I head back to Angelo's. This time I was able to park in front and avoid hitting any poles.

The pizza was cooking and needed another 15 minutes. So I sat at a table and worked on finishing writing my to-do list for my trip to Florida. I was trying to tell Amazon that, yes, I do want a tiny bottle of shampoo to comply with the TSA security theater. But, no, I do not want 8 tiny shampoos.

Oh, did you know they charge you a "9/11 tax" when you buy a plane ticket?

Spirit Airlines has a pretty funny alternative name for it...

"After 9/11, the U.S. implemented the “9/11 Security Tax”, which was a fee of $2.50 each way of a trip on top of the price of a plane ticket. In 2014, the 9/11 Security Tax was increased to $5.60 each way. So, for a round trip this fee would cost $11.20"

We are literally still paying for 9/11. And there is no evidence the enhanced security does much of anything.

So we pay this tax so they can force us to buy tiny shampoo and go through scanners that have to detect and blur our genitals so the TSA agent can't see.

Anyway... I finally get my pizza and head home. When I pulled into my driveway I noticed a bright moon in the sky. It looked so massive compared to other nights, so I tried to capture a moon selfie.

As a photographer, I should have realized that a wide angle lens is not going to capture how big the moon looked in the sky that night. Wide lenses exaggerate distance. So things close to the lens look huge and things far away look tiny. That's why we look like aliens if we hold our smartphones too close to our face. To the lens on your camera, the distance from the tip of your nose to your ears is quite vast. Which meens a celestial body that is 240,000 miles away looks like a tiny dot in the picture.

I still kept trying.

That could be a moon I guess.

Umm, Froggie... you got some moon in your hair.

Later I did try to capture the moon with my DSLR and an 80mm lens, but I guess the moon is just really far away or something.

ENHANCE!

A.I. upscaling reveals it is, in fact, the moon.

I ate my pizza and did a quick tire test and photoshoot.

And then I spent way too long Photoshopping this X-wing flying into my deep-as-heck tire tread.

And that was my day after the day.

Today, which is currently Thanksgiving, I slept.

I slept all night.

I slept most of the day.

I still want to sleep.

Weirdly, I am too tired to feel lonely. Though now that I wrote that, I am thinking about my parents being gone, so I just screwed that up.

But hey... at least my pizza was tasty.

[everythingisawayoflife]

batfam in random situations part 1 (?): airport

i’m so deep into batfam brainrot its kind of terrifying. so. uh. yeah. here is what i think they’re all like on a vacation that requires flight. for all intents and purposes, this is a commercial airline lets pretend the private jet that bruce so totally owns is out of commission. apologies if these are not accurate to their characters, i’m just having fun lol

for starters i definitely think bruce is that parent who’s super anal about getting to the airport on time

like the flight leaves at 8:30, bruce wants to get up at 2:30 and wake everyone else up with him

he’s got checklists for every kid cause every kid is different

i think this house looks like chaos - like think home alone when the mcallisters�� power goes out and they wake up late except the fam is just like that

i’d like to think duke is the most prepared out of all of them - he’s got his suitcase, his carryon, and the comfiest yet cutest airport clothes (cause you know the hot airport people you’re only ever gonna see once? duke dresses to be one of those people)

duke is getting dragged into the chaos though - one minute he’s sitting watching some avatar: the last airbender, next he’s being bombarded by dick asking if he’s gonna ge arrested for bringing shampoo thats only a little over 8 ounces (its like 8.00001)

“no, damian. you can’t bring alfred with you to france. ESPECIALLY not batcow!”

tim was supposed to pack last night. and he was going to, honest! but then the drug case he’d been tracking picked up some heat again and the time got away from him. so he ropes cass into helping him pack efficiently. she only agrees if he lets her have the window seat.

i feel like out of all of them, jason is not a flying kind of guy? like a part of me is really getting the vibe that jason hates to fly so he’s always gotta have some dramamine on him. that and some noise-canceling headphones.

window seat fans: dick, tim, cass, steph

aisle seaters: bruce, jason, duke, damian

middle seaters (not by choice): tim, and on occasion bruce

tim has never ONCE gotten a window seat when they fly

steph’s carryon is JAMPACKED with everything you could ever need. first aid, secret snacks, etc. she’s surprised it even fit with her.

dick always brings a double headphone adapter, so he forces whatever sibling he’s seated besides (usually tim) to watch his airplane movie of choice: crazy rich asians

unrelated but do you think to keep up appearances, bruce joined the mile high club? i think so but anyway back to our regularly scheduled program

there are more pictures of damian watching a movie on his green-cased tablet with big headphones than he would like there to be. most of these pictures exist on dick’s phone.

it’s a struggle to get tim to sleep at home but on flights? he sleeps like a mf’in baby. especially when it’s a night flight so the cabin is dark and comfortable with those pretty lights. yeah goodnight tim drake.

steph is not afraid to get up in an annoying kid’s face if he’s kicking her seat. she’ll fight.

one thing about duke? he’s gonna fuck up some in-flight snacks. sometimes he won’t even eat them on the flight, he’ll just buy a few bags of the peanuts and collect them as a snack for vacation. they work well for him if they go on walking tours that last all day

more pictures on dick’s phone that said subject wish didn’t exist: photos of jason conked out on bruce’s shoulder and he is most definitely drooling

dick HATES airplane bathrooms. he’d rather piss himself than relieve himself in one of those.

cass’s airplane playlist is fire. she even looks cool listening to it.

damian CANNOT be seated behind tim; thats just a recipe for a no-no. he WILL kick the seat and there WILL be blood. no exceptions.

i skipped ahead to the actual flight and not the airport whoopsies let’s go over that below

dick always gets nervous going through bag check - he’s always FINE but he worries that somehow he’s got something he shouldn’t in his bag (this is something i do i KNOW i don’t have anything i shouldnt but what if 20 kilos of cocaine suddenly just appeared in my suitcase?)

tim has definitely had airport sushi like that snl skit. didn’t end well.

remember how i said duke was one of those hot people you see at the airport that you never see again? cass is also one of those people. they are just a cool duo and the paparazzi pictures are lowkey an aesthetic

bruce does a roll call at least seven times. it’s necessary since they have left a kid at home before (it was tim. he was salty about it for at least a month and guilt tripped everyone into doing what he pleased because of it)

to pass the time before they board, steph and jason play cards. their favorites are war and speed.

jason plays wait for me (reprise) in his headphones everytime he walks on one of those horizontal escalator thingys

dick and steph like to impersonate the flight attendants when they do that safety walkthrough

the kids all race each other down that long hallway before they board

unless he goes with them, alfred’s vacation usually begins when bruce texts him that they’ve landed and are on the way to the hotel (which opens the door for other shenanigans i might do a part 2 after all)

okay i think thats all i have i think other scenarios i’d like to do are these:

batfam at a hotel

batfam going grocery shopping

batfam at a wayne gala

batfam on vacation

there are probably more but who knows. for all i know, i’ll never do another one of these again.

[ashisgreedy]

Garreth's Gareer AU HCs

Written By @finalgirllx and @greedyforgarreth simultaneously.

Headcannon's of Garreth Weasley in different careers! 

(These start out serious but we became delirious over time writing this. They devolve into… well, you will see.)

This was not edited. Cheers!

Baker

"Weasley's Confections"

He comes home smelling like sugar every day

He always has flour or frosting in his hair

He'd always bring home a sweet for you

He'd write your names on the little sweets

He's always brainstorming new cake-decorating ideas

He'd always try out new flavor combinations, leading to a very messy kitchen!

He has his own frosting line

during the holidays he has you come and assist him in helping customers in his little shop

During Christmas, you and he dress up as Mr. and Mrs. Claus to decorate cookies with kids

He holds a cake-baking class every once in a while for the community

Chef

He’s a personal caterer, with a small team

He puts on a little show as he cooks for small parties

He has signature dishes he makes that are unique to his catering business

He definitely has a roster of corny jokes for the occasion 

His favorite clients are small bachelorette parties and groups of older ladies because he loves how energetic they are and they laugh at his corny jokes.

Unbuttons his chefs coat throughout the evening for bachelorette parties 

“I'm having a pasta-tively great time”

He would have a volunteer come up for silly demonstrations - how to crack an egg

He hosts his own booth at food festivals to help market is personal business 

Zookeeper 

Robert Irwin vibes - Always educating people on animals

He loves helping with the petting zoos! 

Passionate about preservation of the species and holds educational classes for nearby schools. 

His favorite animal would be an iguana 

He definitely gives away stuffed animals from the gift shop! 

Wears a khaki uniform at all times in the zoo

When he’s not in that - he’s in animal patterns and Hawaiian shirts.

As a side hobby, he surfs to raise money for ocean animals

He’d definitely buy environmentally friendly items at all times

Airline pilot 

Mile high club a million times

Has dated all the stewardesses

Has a mask kink.

Falls asleep almost immediately after the plane takes off

“GARRETH! THE PLANE HAS BEEN TAKEN OVER!” 

Yoga Instructor

Holds instructional classes for business people during their lunch hour.

He’s insanely flexible, and shows it off

Knows his butt gets a lot of attendees

He wears silly headbands

Specializes in Hot Yoga classes

Would have the corniest playlist

His best friend Leander is the Zumba instructor 

He also teaches the occasional water aerobics 

Takes his yoga knowledge into the bedroom 

Wedding planner (morally corrupt)

Really pays attention to the needs of the fiancees…wink

Makes sure to attach his personal cell phone..wink

“Does he know what colors you’d like for the wedding? Or does he not listen to you as well as I could…” wink

Turns cake tasting erotic, feeding the fiancee a cake bite in front of her fiance… wink

He helps put the garter on the bride, slowly… wink

He offers you private dance lessons before the big day…wink 

Ruins your dress before the husband gets the chance…wink 

Shows you the ring he would have gotten for you instead (It’s much better).

Actually listens to you (unlike your fiance)...wink 

Firefighter 

You met when he carried you out of a burning building..sexily 

He saves your kitten and gives it an oxygen mask until it’s lively again.

He pushes you out of the way of a falling burning ceiling 

He lets you wear his helmet to calm you down. (He tells you how silly you look and it helps)

He single-handedly prevented a train collision and explosion in the center of the city 

Sexy arms, covered in soot, and he takes off his jacket and you lick him up 

He’s the one that carries the massive axe that busts through walls. 

"Is this the firehouse? Because you've got me feeling the heat."

Him sliding down the pole during an emergency *Eyes emoji*

Massage therapist 

His massages take ages because he makes sure to work out EVERY knot you have before you get off his table. 

“Oh my dear, you sure are a little tense, aren’t you? Let’s fix that.” 

Love the hot rocks, “ooh, a little hot” whenever he uses them

He gives all kinds of facials for his dedicated clients 

If you get really, really horny during the massage, he says he’ll give you a “happy ending” but really it's just a clap of his hands and a smile.

He plays “Happy” by Pharell Williams at the end of every massage

Sometimes he’ll offer a bonus technique where he steps on the client 

His spa music is just hip hop and rap songs turned into gentle melodies. 

Detective 

The clue is in your panties~

If you’re a threesome, he and the other suggest “split up and look for clues” aka your holes. 

When he’s feeling goofy he’ll bring a magnifying glass to your pussy. “I don’t need this, I already know where the clit is!” 

The hat stays on during sex.

Handcuffs. Nuff said.

He makes the outline of a body on the floor with painters tape and fucks you in that position. 

He asks you questions during sex like “Where were you at 11:34 PM Monday evening?” “Do you have an alibi?” “What crimes have you committed?” “Can you please state your full name and contact information?” “Your childhood street address?” 

He makes you hold his badge up to him during sex.

He smokes his cigar after. 

Lifeguard 

Diving into that… wink.

Speedos all day, every day.

He is super happy to carry a whistle with him all day.

He would’ve saved Ash that one time. 

He wouldn’t have let finalgirllx fall into that lake on her bike. 

He smells like coconut from the sunscreen

Sand *everywhere* “Got some sandy buttcheeks there!” 

When he runs, his pecs bounce.

Really enjoys the maritime accuracy of Spongebob Squarepants 

Very proud of his CPR certification. 

Driving instructor 

Bends you over the seat and fucks you to make sure the leather of the seat cushion is durable. 

Makes you sit on his lap and it causes the horn to honk. He doesn’t mind <3

“I wanna ride.”

Pretends to honk the horn, but really he’s just squeezing your breasts. 

Fingers you while you parallel park to make sure you really know what you're doing. 

“Red means stop, green means go.” But this is your safe word instead. 

Is very passionate about turn signals and will yell at you if you forget to use it. Drivers safety biotch

"Do you believe in love at first drive, or should I take you for another spin?"

Kindergarten teacher 

Fucks all the single moms. 

He is excellent with kids and really enjoys providing them a foundation for a bright future ahead of them.

Has a breaking and entering kink. 

His favorite craft to do with the children is making flowers out of tissue paper. He loves seeing the look on the parent's faces when they gift it. 

Has a mask kink. 

“Baby Shark” is banned from the classroom. 

Enjoys macaroni art. 

He has a talking stick that he’s very strict about using.

Loves having the students draw him and he puts every single one on the walls of the classroom.

Meteorologist 

There are lots of memes of him online. 

“It’ll be wet out this evening, and I’m not just talking about you, ladies.” Gets fired immediately

Becomes an at home meteorologist that says suggestive things about the news on his lives. 

More popular than any news station in the entire world. 

Part times as a camboy. Uses the same channel. 

Sticks his ass out a bit when he points to the green screen. That he somehow has one at his house. 

Instagram polls asking what he should wear during his next live. 

“It’s gonna be cold, ladies! Don’t wear your bras!” …wink 

His camboy name is “Weather Boy” and he makes people call him that professionally as well. 

The front of his business card is for meteorology and the back is his camboy persona.

Musician 

Very good with his fingers. 

The Weasley Wigouts - his band name!

Picks a new genre for every album, he likes to switch it up. Makes for some very confusing tours. 

Tongue piercing.

Has a tramp stamp tattoo on his lower back of Professor Sharp. 

Got his start on Soundcloud. 

Calls his fangirls his “Weasley Sluts!” 

Orders Subway for lunch for the band every day. 

Grew his hair out longer so he can headbang with it, even during soft songs. 

Manbun Garreth era! 

Science teacher 

Really looks up to Bill Nye. 

Wears a lab coat everywhere. 

Always flirts with the math teachers. 

Loves the volcano experiments more than anything. 

He gets wayyyy too hyped about the science fair. “It’s next week! Don’t forget!” and the students groan.

Always has granola bars and hot chocolate stocked in case any student is hungry.

Never sends any of his students to detention. He takes them aside and just says “Come on, man…” 

When teaching a chapter on biology and reproduction, he yells at the students to “AVERT YOUR EYES!” and dramatically covers his own. 

"What did the biologist wear to impress their date? Designer genes!"

Has a tattoo on his chest that says “The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.”

Voice over artist 

Gets his start in English dubs of hentai. 

He has a small role as an NPC in Hogwarts Legacy. Guess who! 

Loves voice acting for the Elder Scrolls series. 

Will do raps for his fans on live, as much as 15 songs. 

Can sing and has a small youtube video with cover songs he loves. 

His most popular cover is of “Sugar, We’re Going Down,” by Fall Out Boy. 

Treats BookTok to sexy ASMR from time to time. 

Florist

Knows all the meanings to all the flowers in his shop.

Wants to fuck you on a flower bed. 

Really loves blue flowers (I don’t know the names of flowers).

He obsesses over flower arrangements and makes them look perfect! 

Always has dirt on his face and under his nails. 

"If kisses were petals, I'd give you a garden."

Has a mask kink. 

Will arrange all of the flowers for his own wedding. 

Loves to roleplay as Ghostface with his partner. 

Always smells fantastic. 

Likes to put a flower behind his ear when he’s working.

[sighthounds-and-sketches]

Let's talk about flying to pick up a puppy by yourself

And some ways to make it easier on you.

Your prep starts honestly, about a week before baby actually comes home. Maybe 2 weeks.

For my pre-flight prep, I first picked out a flight carrier. I went with the one my breeder recommended.

It has expandable sides, and a little storage pocket. And it's resistant to chewing. I'm really glad I didn't buy a cheaper one, and I can't stress enough that it's cheaper to buy a quality one the first time than have a zipper break or a tear in the middle of your trip. My trip in total was 4 flights and 4 hours in the car, with him being with me for half of it and having the longest layover of my day. I could only really let him out a couple times, so this next part was incredibly helpful.

I mailed the carrier to my breeder,

at her behest. This was *huge* because the siblings got their scent on it and he was acclimated to being in it before I got to him. It acted as a secure place for him to ride in the car and for his first few nights here, he slept in there through the night.

And now that he's in his crate, the removable pad with scents on it has been instrumental in establishing the crate as a safe place for him.

Video of why I'm really glad I got the durable carrier.

Please consider what you're wearing that day.

Wear clothes you don't need to fuss with *at all* that's normal airport protocol- but I can't stress this enough, you're carrying the puppy in your arms through the TSA checkpoint and other people will be fussing over him. Make sure your appearance and personal bag is no fuss.

See: jeans, hoodie, puppy treat and potty bag that can be shoved into my personal Item, and a no fuss backpack.

In my personal travel bag I kept:

Pee pads, his food from the breeder, a change of clothes in case of incidents, a portable battery to charge my phone, collapsible food and water bowls, collar and leash incase one wasn't provided, and SEVERAL toys in there.

The toys were great for waiting in the terminal. I'd expand the sides of the crate and introduce a new toy to him to help him run a bit of energy out before we had to board.

Peepads: Even though airports have animal relief areas, chances are they're either kind of gross or your dog may be a little too young for it to be safe. I was traveling through one of the busiest airports in the world, and nobody was checking jack shit so I opted for potty breaks to occur in bathrooms with pee pads. He didn't end up going but it's better to be prepared.

I flew Delta and used Skymiles accumulated from our credit card with them that we pay off monthly, so the only thing I paid for out of pocket was 95.00 to bring Argos on board. My flight only costed 20k miles total, and that was only a small portion of what we'd accumulated over the 6 months we've been using the card. I think it's worth considering if you're planning to fly to a breeder. It enabled me to go anywhere in the country that Delta flies and not worry about costs.

Day of hack: double check your flights on the airlines app and switch your seat if possible. I swapped one of my return flight seats to an empty row for 15.00, which meant I could have my carryon and him with me at the same time and that was very nice for readjusting where my stuff was and taking a damn nap. Because at this point, I'd been up for about 18 hours and still had 7 hours of traveling before I'd get home.

I think my last thing is that if you're like me and you do have an invisible disability- ask if you can preboard. Dont be afraid to say "hey, i have this problem and standing in the heat while carrying a bunch of stuff is potentially going to cause an episode. " The employees were extremely nice, and willing to work with me. Ultimately, I went through all of this because he's a service dog prospect and will hopefully help.

Small things for me specifically prior: ate in the morning and right before I picked him up, he was able to chill in his carrier while I ate dinner at a restaurant in the airport- didn't make any sounds. He slept the whole time. I don't think I couldve eaten in the food court, too much to carry between him and my main bag.

I think that's it. I may add to this if I remember anything I forgot.

Edited to add: for my besties with miscellaneous illnesses-

A baggie with your medicines is IMPORTANT. Do not forget some dramamine, advil, Tylenol, whatever, pack it if there's a small chance you'll need it!

I ended up getting migraine symptoms like 5 hours into travel, and that was not a day I could afford to have blurred vision. <3 remember to take care of YOU on the journey.

[sea-salted-wolverine]

Did everyone have a good thanksgiving? I had a good thanksgiving, but I need to vent a little bit, so you are about to hear all about the last Two Weeks of my sitcom Life.

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. There are no obligations except to cook and eat delicious food. But what about it's bigoted and racist history, you say, what about the bigoted racist family members you must deal with? Well I say to you, once you have taken charge of your own life the world opens up and you realize that every holiday has a bigoted and racist history, but this holiday in particular offers you the chance to ridicule those bigoted family members to their face while eating yourself into a food coma and pretending to be polite about it. You can do the same thing at Christmas, but there's not kitschy annoying music or obligation to buy presents at Thanksgiving.

So I had plans for Thanksgiving. I was going down to see my family for the week. I had invested dozens of man hours and hundreds of dollars in plans for the weekend which are now getting shunted into Christmas presents, so that's my shopping done.

So I go out on Friday with friends and we did not intend to close down the bar that night but we did and then me and my partner were up at the crack of dawn to get on the road and drive down for Thanksgiving. It's a 7 hour drive but we make it fairly regularly.

But then my dad calls at 8:30 in the morning just before we leave. Grandma in Texas has passed away. And really I should have been thinking about it but I didn't, Because approximately 3 hours and 200 miles later we get another phone call and we are going to Texas.

So fun fact, last minute airlines tickets are always a bitch, but last minute tickets on a holiday weekend are a whole other Beast. Also, i am packed for Thanksgiving in Alaska. Not a memorial in Texas. But I had a chance to ditch my snowpants and mukluks at my moms house before I flew down early with her to go clean out my grandma's assisted living apartment. And this was where I had my first fuckup.

In total we were in transit for something like 9 hours, because Alaska is a long ways from everywhere. And we wanted to watch something. And I said The Fall of the House of Usher is good. And I didn't even think about it.

And it is good, but if you haven't seen it, you should know that the first episode, includes the main character explaining what he is such a shithead by blaming it on his mommy issues. Mom turns out to be the kind of person who says things like "pain and suffering are the kiss of Jesus" and you think he might have a point, but then she dies and gets buried in the backyard but she's not actually dead so she rises from the dead to go commit murder, and that is what I watched with my mother on the plane to go settle my grandma's affairs.

[freehawaii]

KE AUPUNI UPDATE - NOVEMBER 2024

Identity Theft The recent American elections raised several issues that pertain to us who maintain our homelands, the Hawaiian Islands, is being illegally occupied by the United States. The election exposed Americans are deeply concerned about illegal immigrants overwhelming the local population and losing control of their communities and resources to foreigners… They are right to be concerned, because that is what happened to Hawaii, along with another insidious tactic that undermined our standing as a Hawaiian nation. You hear these days many ads about protecting yourself from criminals who steal your identity and use your identity to take everything you have, even your home, leaving you destitute and powerless to fight back. Isn’t that the definition of colonialism? Isn’t that what happened to us in Hawaii but more sinister and pervasive? It didn’t happen overnight. It took a couple of generations, the first half of the 20th Century. During that time any vestige of our identity as loyal subjects of the Hawaiian Kingdom was wiped out and Hawaiians were morphed into loyal citizens of the United States, willing to sign on to the scam of statehood and buying into pursuing “the American Dream.” Having the victim agree to his own captivity. But with the rediscovery in the 60s and 70s of the richness of hula kahiko, our moʻolelo (stories), and the exploits of our ancestors who crisscrossed this vast ocean in voyaging canoes made of wood and leaves, and doing it a thousand years before the lead-colonizer, Columbus, was even born; our true identity as the heirs and descendants of a great people began to emerge. And the questions began to be asked: What really happened? Who are we really? How did we lose control of our nation? Haunani Kay Trask startled us with her shocking declaration: “We are not Americans! We are not Americans! We are not Americans! We are not Americans! We are Hawaiians! And we will always be Hawaiians!”  It was the wake-up call to confront who we really are. What is our true identity? American or Hawaiian? Since that day, we have been learning, reclaiming and embracing that identity for ourselves, and in the process, reclaiming and embracing our Lāhui, our nation, our kuleana (responsibility) and our calling as a people. 

“Love of country is deep-seated in the breast of every Hawaiian, whatever his station.” — Queen Liliʻuokalani ---------- Ua mau ke ea o ka ʻāina i ka pono. The sovereignty of the land is perpetuated in righteousness. ------ For the latest news and developments about our progress at the United Nations in both New York and Geneva, tune in to Free Hawaii News at 6 PM the first Friday of each month on ʻŌlelo Television, Channel 53. ------ "And remember, for the latest updates and information about the Hawaiian Kingdom check out the twice-a-month Ke Aupuni Updates published online on Facebook and other social media." PLEASE KŌKUA… Your kōkua, large or small, is vital to this effort... To contribute, go to:   • GoFundMe – CAMPAIGN TO FREE HAWAII • PayPal – use account email: info@HawaiianKingdom.net • Other – To contribute in other ways (airline miles, travel vouchers, volunteer services, etc...) email us at: info@HawaiianKingdom.net All proceeds are used to help the cause. MAHALO! Malama Pono,

Leon Siu

Hawaiian National

[kanewillam]

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[charlesandmartine]

Monday 23rd December 2024

Hervey Bay to Sydney

The day started early at 6am with a lovely walk along our beautiful beach for the last time. The usual selection of locals were already promenading, their dogs weaving around their owners' legs, balls flung far for them to exercise at speed, one man with a tennis racket fires balls further and dog responds instantly. It is a chance for conversation as well as satisfaction for their animals.

Moving day today, combined with saying goodbye to the Renault, so we find ourselves once more pedestrians, which seems really odd. We have had this car for a month, and we have grown quite accustomed to it despite its rather strange features. We have taken it for a 1,400-mile holiday, and it didn't look too much the worst for wear when we handed it back. Irrationally, we vacuumed it out for Mr. Avis, so it looked pretty good, we thought. Couple that mileage with that we clocked up with the Ford Ranger in the Northern Territories section, and we have driven a total of 4,150 miles in all through this fascinating country.

Mr Avis gratefully reclaimed our Renault at Hervey Bay Airport with very little fuss. The airport is most likely one of the smallest you will find anywhere. So small, they are borderline polite! We were asked at the check-in desk if it was okay to be in charge of the emergency exit since we were in seats 1D and 1E. I said it would be, but perhaps we might practice opening the door first a few times to familiarise myself with the mechanisms because I take these safety responsibilities most seriously. This without fail always instils a sense of panic in airline staff and without exception in this case. I can always move you to another seat she insisted. It was fine after Martine managed to calm her down, and I'm sure in time she would probably see the funny side of it. The flight was 1 hour 45 minutes duration, and we had to wind the clocks forward an hour on arrival, putting us now 11 hours ahead of UK time. We didn't get off to a great start as our Jetstar Airbus A320-200 romped into Hervey Bay nearly 30 minutes late. No explanation was forthcoming, and absolutely no training was made available regarding our duties should the aircraft have to make an emergency landing onto anything alternative to tarmac runway. At that stage, presumably no-one cares if you get it right or not. Happily, I was not required to operate any of the highly tempting levers, and heroic actions were avoided and saved for another day, and we touched down through sunny skies to temperatures of 32 degrees

Sydney airport is a train ride away from anywhere useful in Sydney, but that is no hardship usually since the double decked train service is extremely good. However, the trains were not running over the weekend due to industrial action, and we were consequently just a bit concerned if we would get into Circular Quays okay to get the ferry to Manly. In the event, all was well, the trains and ferries were running as normal, and it was just like we hadn't been away as we stepped out of Manly Wharf to find Christmas in full swing. Well, as much swing the Australians can manage, not being that good at swinging anything in the entertainment department. All we had to do was drag a couple of suitcases and hump a couple of rucksacks plus rubbery chicken with SB uphill to our lodgings for the next 5 nights. So, we took a taxi instead.

ps. Cunard's Queen Elizabeth was waiting in Circular Quays on our arrival.

pps. Tomorrow, being Christmas Eve, we shall have to nip into town to buy Christmas dinner. A ham might be favourite.

ppps. Apologies for more beach photos, it's all I have today. They were taken this morning.

[doulayogimama]

The fact that my daughter has a frequent flyer number with a major airline + I’m building miles for her to have when she’s older so she can go on a year long trip or whatever the heck she wants when she’s old enough brings me SO MUCH JOY.

She is 3 years old and has Global Entry. She has a BFF in Switzerland, friends in Barcelona, and now twin friends here in Miami. She has her cousins in NY who we may travel to Central America with in August. I grew up rich (eventually to be lost in a very Schmidt’s Creek kinda way) but THIS was the childhood of my dreams. Truly.

I get that every parent gives their kid what they feel they lacked growing up (if they can). My parents did their best. I’m grateful. But my gosh — I grew up in such a bubble of privilege. I’ll never forget the culture shock of my first week at a public university — all the public school and private school kids end up together eventually. My Private Catholic high school on Biscayne Bay did not really provide me with a full scope of the Miami population.

My first trip by myself to New Orleans at 17 was when I finally was like WOW — a wholly different culture from mine is here. We didn’t vacation barely at all growing up — my dad hates to travel and will rarely get on planes unless it was for work. I remember being so sad that our wealth was wasted because we never traveled to Europe or Asia or South America. I truly thought: “what is this money for? For this big house and our school that we hate?” 😅

Anyway — I hope she enjoys the childhood we’re giving her. She is the best kid and I will always take her opinion into account. If she wants to settle and only vacation in the summers that is what we will do. If she thrives on world schooling / homeschooling, that’s what we will do. But her opinion will be #1.

We don’t make much money, we live simple material lives. But I consider myself rich truly because we are free. We make money from our computer and we get to CHOOSE our life, fully. I will never take that for granted. I’ve had a lot of money, I’ve gone to expensive shops as a teen and been able to drop an obscene amount of money. Money does buy happiness, for sure to a certain extent. But if I can take a big pay cut and feel free in my life, I choose that.

[wumblr]

one thing they don't tell you about the american dream is if you're going to buy over 12,000 pudding cups for an airline miles redemption program you're going to have to rely on the unpaid labor of a number of food bank volunteers who will take the barcodes off the pudding that you were never going to eat so you can redeem them for the airline miles

[isopodcast]

I recently commissioned @miranhas-art to draw two original characters, Suliya and Atlas (Suliya is mine, and Atlas belongs to my girlfriend.) I was blown away with the art, so I had to write something around it. It was supposed to be a drabble, but it turned into a short story because I couldn't write anything under 500 words to save my life.

Feel free to read it below the cut!

Words: 770 (approx.)

Content Warnings: None (besides several curse words and mention of insects)

Every month, Atlas voyages from Washington to Michigan to bask in Suliya's bright and joyful light. Feeling her presence releases more endorphins than the sun ever could. His trip is more than 2,200 miles, five hours in the air, plus a layover in Chicago. Atlas' pampered first-class seats cost over a thousand dollars; he must have the legroom, he says. And he gets grumpy without a decent meal, which apparently tastes better when it's complimentary.

But this time, Suliya booked a flight secretly, the shoddiest airline that flies into Seattle. Economy seats, nothing free of charge except a barf bag. Her best friend, Mikayla, agreed to oversee her store and care for her animals while she was away so that it would be a worry-free vacation. She planned to be inside Atlas' condo, lounging on his sofa while he ran errands. Sam, his roommate, was supposed to send him away before she arrived.

Instead, they almost collide at the entrance of his apartment building. Suliya barely has time to set her luggage down before Atlas pulls her into a crushing embrace.

"What the fuck!?" he howls. "What the fuck? When did you--"

"Thirty minutes ago!" she interjects, being squeezed by massive biceps. Blissful, her body is practically limp in his arms.

"No, when the fuck did you buy plane tickets?" he interrogates, "How long have you known you were coming?"

"Since last week."

"Last week!?  Babeeee, why didn't you tell me? I would've picked you up at the airport!"

"It was a surprise!"

"Well, it's more than a surprise; it's a fuckin' delight."

She struggles but manages to crane her head upwards and beams at him, struck with thanksgiving to fate for bringing them together. "You're a fuckin' delight."

One hundred and sixty-one nights have passed since they met; he's been keeping track. Before then, Atlas wasn't sure love existed, not for him, not at the capacity felt for most, but Suliya has given his life a vibrancy it's never known; colors are brighter, aromas are more intense, touch is more tender and intimate. That unforgettable day might've been the luckiest one of his life, and he's scored with the Montana Lottery before, big time.

"How long do I have you? Did you get round-trip tickets?" he asks.

She shakes her head from side to side. "Nope."

"Planning on stayin' a while?"

"Until you're ready for me to go," she replies, "But I don't know if that'll ever happen."

"Yeah, I guess you're never leaving."

Heartbreak has always been one of his most debilitating fears, but losing Suliya is unthinkable. She's out of his league; Atlas has thought that since their first conversation, and he still believes it to be true. There isn't a doubt in his overactive little mind that someone so dynamic, with a beauty as celestial and a soul as rare as hers, wouldn't be satisfied with him forever. He's obsessed, but she deserves more than that. To him, Suliya is divine; countless men and women have worshipped her, and he worries that he might not pray or sacrifice enough.

Atlas lifts her from the ground, bringing their faces close. His eyes shut as she wraps her arms around his neck. Her hands travel to his hair, nimble digits fussing with dark waves. He practically purrs in response, leaving gentle kisses on every inch of skin he can access; her cheek, her ear, her neck.

"I'm keeping you," he murmurs, nuzzling the tip of his nose against hers, "And you're never going to leave if I have any say."

"Oh, nooo," she teases, "Stuck with you? God forbid."

"I'll lock the door and throw away the key, don't even tempt me. I don't play around, toots."

"Sealed away in a penthouse! How will I survive?"

They laugh together, relishing in each other's warmth and familiar scents. Atlas would fall apart without her, a giant rag doll stripped of his thread, spilling polyester stuffing with fabric asunder. He assumes he needs, wants, and loves her more than the healthy doses, more than she possibly could him, except the truth is that Suliya is equally devoted and afraid. Love has never been her strong suit; it's always ended poorly, but Atlas is worth the risk.

Busy downtown traffic breezes past them, snippets of dialogue buzzing intermittently from passersby. They stare at one another in comfortable silence.

"I do have to go home at some point," she mutters. "There's the shop and all the plants... And my cat likes Mikayla, but she'll miss me. Plus, the tarantulas, the snake, the centipedes--"

"Don't worry about the critters; I'll send for their things."