#ucsb life

[dancam]

2/15

[lewisvinga]

party in the u.s.a | logan sargeant x fem! reader

summary; thanks to his girlfriend, logan gets a peak into the average life of an american college student in a party school

fc; olivia rodrigo

note; ucsb is university of california, santa barbara, it’s a party school !!

masterlist !

liked by logansargeant, yourbsfusername, and 98,038 others!

yourusername: bf on summer break and semester is about to start soon, y’all know what that means? #UCSB 💙

tagged; logansargeant

yourbsfusername: UCSB CLASS OF 24 IS BACK BABY!

yourusername: READY FOR THE BEST SENIOR YEAR EVER!😫

logansargeant: finally going to experience the american frat life 🗣️

yourusername: gotta make sure my american boy gets an american college experience 😔

alex_albon: pls take care of the american boy he is quite fragile

yourusername: don’t worry🫡🫡

username: class of 24 is gonna go down in history!!

username: i knew there was a reason i went to ucsb

username: logan’s american gf being known for her college parties is so iconic

username: looking forward to the semester only for the parties tbh

logansargeant posted to their story.

liked by logansargeant, yourbsfusername, and 120,937 others!

yourusername; starting senior year w a banger

tagged; logansargeant, yourbsfusername, username, username

logansargeant: how do you guys do this every week i physically can’t

yourusername: babe, we go to a party school for a reason !!

yourbsfusername: still hungover but it was worth it🫡🫡

lilymhe: INVITE ME NEXT TIME 😫

yourusername: I WILL🙏🙏

username: i’m so glad i chose ucsb

username: y/n the goat of parties

username: still can’t believe i go to class w the y/n

username: perfect party for the class of ‘24 🫡

liked by yourusername, alex_albon, and 582,937 others!

logansargeant: it’s a party in the u.s.a

tagged; yourusername

yourusername: i came up w the caption guys 😁

logansargeant: very smart

yourusername: you loved the frat party, be honest now babe!!!

logansargeant: can’t hate them, you guys know how to throw parties 😫

alex_albon: the fishing picture, you are so american

logansargeant: 🫡🇺🇸

username: wtf is a kilometerrrrrr

username: such an american post

landonorris: AMERICAN BOY THROW US A FRAT PARTY!!

logansargeant: i think yourusername should throw it instead, a real college student

landonorris: yourusername what do you say 🤨🤨

yourusername: planning it now as we speak 😁

[daisyjonesgf]

Thinking about Finnick rn... Thinking about Finnick having West Coast habits... (I live in, what would be considered, part of District 4, so I think I'm p qualified to talk abt West Coast habits) so... modern!au Finnick, anyone?

Finnick is 100% a California boy. Like if we want to keep the collective headcanon about him swimming all the time in the ocean and being a beach boy... he can't be from Oregon or Washington bc those coastlines are FRIGID 12 out of 12 months of the year.

(Not to say you can't swim in there, you just need a good, thermal wetsuit so you don't freeze during the cold months; I watched a guy surf for a good hour in January, so it’s not impossible.)

I'd like to think he's a hiker when he's not feeling like swimming. Both woodsy trails and mountain trails. He also picks berries on hikes. If he's with his partner (whether it be Annie or Sweet Girl) he makes a day of it. Sandwiches, drinks, and berry picking. And, afterward? Going to a small ice cream shop for a little something. (Totally me projecting because this is what I did with my grandma when she'd watch me during the summer)

He's a sucker for a good "Tourist Trap" or doing touristy things in the places he knows really well. Trees of Mystery? Yeah, he's been quite a few times, but he just loves posing next to the crazy trees and definitely marvels at the really tall redwoods every. single. time. The various aquariums? He always takes different routes every time he goes and it definitely depends on who he's with.

Even the kinda crappy, kinda cheap tourist traps that are literally just the simplest things. (See the smallest park in Portland, OR... yeah. He gets a kick out of that.)

He definitely owns a pair of these pants that have detachable pant legs. Basically, there are zippers at the knees and you can change them from cargo pants to cargo shorts; my English/History/STEM teacher had, like, three different pairs & he was/is an avid hiker. Anyways-

Is it too cliche to say his house would be an over-the-top coastal-themed house? Like pictures and paintings of sea life, shell-shaped soaps, shell shadow boxes, towels at the front and back doors, "beach life" quotes, etc.? It's so cheesy, but just so him at the same time. His job is Beach.

not to out myself but I live in the PNW so I also feel very qualified to talk about west coast finnick, and yk I love a modern au guys ✨️

LISTEN okay guys hear me out on this I think modern finnick born and raised in Oregon or Washington along the coast and he loved to swim so much, but his parents were like, no it's too cold. but as he got a little older he would do that anyways (I saw a guy literally like two days ago swimming on the cold ass beach no thermal suit or anything just fucking swimming and it's still March and so cold) that would be finnick as a teenager fr. but his parents would go on trips to California and when finnick got to be on warm beaches it made his world, he would savor every moment there, swimming, surfing, fucking wakeboarding, he loves it, and he makes the decision as a child when he goes that he is gonna live there someday. and he does, the moment he is 18, he is packing up his car, surfboards on the roof to live out his California dreams. specifically for the heat in the area he chooses BUT he still loves doing all the things he did as a kid so this man is constantly on the move, spends so much money driving up and down the west coast I fear (he goes to ucsb or ucsd btw) BUT he takes a gap year first to see everything the entire coastline has to offer bc he loves nature

he is definitely a hiker, he has a personal goal to hike every trail he can on the coastline, which is so fucking many, and adores hiking and picnicking so much. I'm a firm believer this man loves saltwater taffy and can't help but buy it by the bucket load, he literally has to be stopped. and yeah he does love a tourist trap, and is dragging his partner along to every single one and taking so many pictures. he went to the enchanted forest in oregon as a kid and he definitely goes back as an adult and still enjoys it even though I can say from generational experience that most people go back and do not enjoy it nearly as much and wonder how they ever did in the first place, but finnick would. and he definitely loves visiting a zoo or aquarium.

not the detachable pant legs 😭 (he totally would) he thinks it's such a cool invention, I also think he owns tons of offbrand birkenstocks

you're so right about the super beach themed coastal house when he does buy his own house it's so cheesy beach quotes and mats with cheesy quotes about the sand at the doors, and it's so beach themed, he can't help but buy every beach themed thing he sees, he literally has to be pulled away.

west coast finnick my beloved (totally not bc this is my niche)

[cyberpilate]

True Stories from Comics Retail!

The year is... somewhere in the 2010s, I'm guessing. The place? Metro Entertainment, Santa Barbara's No. #1 Comics and Games store and here I am, working the register.

Now, please understand: the one thing I love more than anything in the world is recommending comics to people and, f I can allow myself a little sliver of pride, I think I'm pretty good at it. No complaints, yanno? There is literally nothing like showing a new fan or a new reader a comic book they never considered before and then BOOM - next week they're in for another one! I've made lifelong friends this way and it really warms up the soul.

So when this gorgeous woman, elegantly dressed and erudite, comes in and tells me that she just finished a class at UC Santa Barbara on comics and wanted to read more, I nearly vaulted over the counter to get her to our trade paperback shelves. She tells me she's read Sandman and my mind starts whirring with possibilities. We're looking for something with a high art quality, storytelling and myth, something dark and dreamy perhaps. I show her The Wicked + The Divine by Jamie McKelvie and Kieron Gillian and she shakes her head and says:

"No, I only read books by gay men."

This floors me. Wow! What a specific request! For the 2010s, mind you; it's not like I knew the personal love life of comic book authors at this time. Wracking my brain, I start to take her towards autobiographical comics, the only place I know where writers and artists had "come out of the closet", so to speak and she again says no.

"Books like Sandman!," she reinforces. So now I've practically blue screened thinking about who is a gay man in comics that writes dark fantasy?? I can't let her go with out a recommendation! She's so fancy! And she took a really rad course at UCSB and she wants to read them I can't gatekeep this young woman because *I* don't know enough about comics to know which gay men write dark fantasy-

-WAIT. Phil Jimenez! He was gay! And he was highly influential on Wonder Woman! (I just checked and no, the Omnibus hadn't come out by that time...) I think I have it!! Glowing with relief and pride, I take her over to the DC books and start explaining the mythological connections in Wonder Woman...

She interrupts me again. "No, books by <i>gay men</i>," she emphasizes.

That kinda puts me on the spot so I start to explain, "Well, Phil Jimenez is-"

"Like Sandman and the Graveyard Book, that author."

It hits me like a ton of bricks.

(Shout out to everyone who figured this out during the story - I am impressed by how incredibly smarter you are than like, 30 year old me)

"NEIL GUY-MAN," I say, totally pronouncing the man's name wrong to try and explain where I went wrong in this whole conversation. She does not agree with my pronunciation but I take her over to Murder Mysteries (when it was still in stock at Diamond, one of my most favorite short stories ever), the Sandman TPs, anything I can get my hands on. She does look them over, but doesn't want to buy anything and leaves me in my shame.

I guess I'm telling this story in hopes that Dark Horse puts Murder Mysteries back into print so I can sell the book to Good Omens fans and that maybe, just maybe, @neil-gaiman will forgive me for the butchering of his last name.

We can dream.

[jcmarchi]

Even the Oldest Eukaryote Fossils Show Dazzling Diversity and Complexity - Technology Org

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/even-the-oldest-eukaryote-fossils-show-dazzling-diversity-and-complexity-technology-org/

Even the Oldest Eukaryote Fossils Show Dazzling Diversity and Complexity - Technology Org

The sun has just set on a quiet mudflat in Australia’s Northern Territory; it’ll set again in another 19 hours. A young moon looms large over the desolate landscape. No animals scurry in the waning light. No leaves rustle in the breeze. No lichens encrust the exposed rock. The only hint of life is some scum in a few puddles and ponds. And among it lives a diverse microbial community of our ancient ancestors.

A soft summer evening in the Paleoproterozoic, as envisioned by DALL-E. Image credit: DALL-E, prompt by Harrison Tasoff.

In a new account of exquisitely preserved microfossils, researchers at UC Santa Barbara and McGill University revealed that eukaryotic organisms had already evolved into a diverse array of forms even 1.64 billion years ago.

The paper, published in the journal Papers in Paleontology, recounts an assemblage of eukaryotic fossils from an era early in the group’s evolutionary history. The authors describe four new taxa, as well as evidence of several advanced characteristics already present in these early eukaryotes. 

“These are among the oldest eukaryotes that have ever been discovered,” explained lead author Leigh Anne Riedman, an assistant researcher in UCSB’s Department of Earth Science. “Yet, even in these first records we’re seeing a lot of diversity.”

Eukarya forms one of the major domains of life, encompassing the plant, animal and fungi clades, as well as all other groups whose cells have a membrane-bound nucleus, like protists and seaweeds.

Many scientists had thought early eukaryotes were all fairly similar during the late Paleoproterozoic, and that diversification took place around 800 million years ago. But Riedman and her co-authors found fossils of a delightfully diverse, and complex, cast of characters in rock nearly twice as old.

Limbunyasphaera operculata is a new species that shows a small door opening into the cell. Photo Credit: Riedman et al.

Scientists knew from previous studies that eukaryotes had evolved by this time, but their diversity in this era was poorly understood. So Riedman headed to the Outback in late 2019. Within one week, she had collected about 430 samples from eight cores drilled by a prospecting company; they now reside in the library of the Northern Territory Geological Survey. The two cores used for this study spanned roughly 500 meters of stratigraphy, or 133 million years, with around 15 million years of significant deposition.

Riedman returned to the United States with shale and mudstone: remnants of an ancient coastal ecosystem that alternated between shallow, subtidal mudflats and coastal lagoons. A dip in hydrofluoric acid dissolved the matrix rock, concentrating the precious microfossils which she then analyzed under the microscope.

“We were hoping to find species with interesting and different characteristics to their cell walls,” Riedman said. She hoped that these features could shed light on what was happening within the cells during this time period. Reaching any conclusions about the cellular interior would require a great deal of sleuthing, though, since the fossils preserve only the exterior of the cells.

The researchers were surprised by the diversity and complexity preserved in these fossils. They recorded 26 taxa, including 10 previously undescribed species. The team found indirect evidence of cytoskeletons, as well as platy structures that suggest the presence of internal vesicles in which the plates were formed — perhaps ancestral to Golgi bodies, present in modern eukaryotic cells. Other microbes had cell walls made of bound fibers, similarly suggestive of the presence of a complex cytoskeleton.

The authors also found cells with a tiny trapdoor, evidence of a degree of sophistication. Some microbes can form a cyst to wait out unfavorable environmental conditions. In order to emerge, they need to be able to etch an opening in their protective shell.

Making this door is a specialized process. “If you’re going to produce an enzyme that dissolves your cell wall, you need to be really careful about how you use that enzyme,” Riedman said. “So in one of the earliest records of eukaryotes, we’re seeing some pretty impressive levels of complexity.”

Many people in the field had thought this ability emerged later, and the evidence for it in this assemblage further emphasizes how diverse and advanced eukaryotes were even at this early juncture.

“The assumption has always been that this is around the time that eukaryotes appeared. And now we think that people just haven’t explored older rocks,” said co-author Susannah Porter, an Earth science professor at UC Santa Barbara.

This paper is part of a larger project investigating early eukaryote evolution. Riedman and Porter want to know in what environments early eukaryotes were diversifying, why they were there, when they migrated to other places, and what adaptations they needed in order to fill those new niches.

A big part of this effort involves understanding when different characteristics of eukaryotes first arose. For instance, the authors are quite interested to learn whether these organisms were adapted to oxygenated or anoxic environments.

The former would suggest that they had an aerobic metabolism, and possibly mitochondria. Every modern eukaryote that’s been found descends from ancestors that possessed mitochondria. This suggests that eukaryotes acquired the organelle very early on, and that it provided a significant advantage.

Riedman and Porter are currently working on a fresh account of eukaryote diversity through time. They’ve also collected even older samples from Western Australia and Minnesota. Meanwhile, their geochemist collaborators at McGill are spearheading a study on oxygen levels and preferred eukaryote habitats, aspects that could shed light on their evolution.

“These results are a directive to go look for older material, older eukaryotes, because this is clearly not the beginning of eukaryotes on Earth,” Riedman said.

Source: UCSB

[can-i-make-image-descriptions]

[Image ID: Series of tweets from Shane Morris (@/ IAmShaneMorris) on 21 May 19 reading: Y'all wanna hear a story about the time I accidentally transported a brick of heroin from Los Angeles to Seattle? I bet. Alright, let's do this... (a thread)

I was living in Newport Beach, California, kinda just -- trying to figure life out. My buddy Tyler calls e up out of the clear blue, and he's like, "Hey dude, you wanna do the most epic road trip ever?"

I'm like, "Sure."

At the time, Tyler was a boat mechanic in South Florida, so I fly down to Miami, and I end up staying with one of his coworkers for a few days, until I can buy a Honda Shadow 750 for like $2,700. (He already had one, so I got a matching bike so we could share spare parts.)

From Miami, we set off across the United States, staying at the kind of motels along the way you see on movies like No Country For Old Men. If you're going to ride across the United States on a motorcycle, do it on two lane roads. It's worth it.

We end up swinging down through Mexico, and this isn't really important to the story, but we pulled over to rest in the middle of the desert, and these wild horses walked up to us, and were actually like... oddly friendly. They let us pet them. It was super cool. Anyway...

After like 10 days, we made it back into Southern California. He had an uncle in Temecula, and my ex was in Newport Beach, so we both rested for a few days. Riding a bike across the country takes a toll of your body. So we decided to switch it up.

We decided to sell our bikes, and buy a 1979 Dodge Ram van. I want to say we paid like $600 each for it -- $1200 all in. It needed a little work, but the important part was it was all easy stuff. We named the van Cassandra, and wrote our names on the door.

Picture of two people standing in front of a van. Picture of two people sitting on the curb next to a van.

The plan was easy: We'll drive up the Pacific Coast highway, and camp all along the way. We took the middle seats out of the van, so we could sleep in it at night incase it was raining. Then we went to REI to get hammocks for hammock camping.

On our way up, we stopped in Santa Barbara, and picked up my sister. At the time, she was in school at UCSB, and she was planning on flying home to the Bay Area to see our dad, so I was like, "Just come camping on the beach with us." So she did.

2 people standing on the beach.

Driving north, we made it so pretty cool spots, like Bixby Canyon Bridge. All along the way, we're letting anyone who meets us write their name on the van and take a picture. It was... fucking awesome.

Picture of a person sitting on a bridge. Picture of 2 people standing on the edge of a cliff next to the van.

Around Big Sir, our van had its first problem. The rear drum brakes were making awful noises, and locked up. I ended up buying a set of Craftsman tools, end then I did a brake job in the parking lot of a Wal Mart.

While I was there, I was like, "I'm gonna do a few other things." When I got the van, I changed the oil, and... that's it. (I know I should have done more of a tune up, but honestly, the van was running fine. The interior was even pretty nice.)

On these old Dodge vans, the engine access is inside the car, in between the driver and the passenger. I hadn't even lifted it up when I bough it. (I'm an idiot. I know.) So, I decided to change the spark plugs, the fuel filter, and the air filter. I'm So glad I did.

I opened up the engine cover, and sitting right on top of the engine was like, grass, straw and little bits of carpet. A mouse had made a home, right there on top of the engine block. I'm lucky it hadn't started a fire. So I cleared everything out, and changed the plugs/filter.

I remember yelling at Tyler, because he was the one who poured the oil in, and I was like, "How the fuck did you not notice there was a fucking rat's nest on top of the fucking engine block when you were pouring in the oil?!" And he was like, "It's an old car." LOL. WTF.

So anyway, we drive up into Oakland, and meet up with my friends there. We stayed at their house overnight, smoked weed, ate a meal, and chilled out. Then, we set off for Mt. Shasta, and Lake Shasta. (It's a really beautiful lake.)

Picture of a group of people standing in front of the van.

We camp at Mt. Shasta. It's beautiful. The lake was really low, but the water felt great. (Not really critical to the story, but go if you ever get the chance.)

Picture of two people around a campfire. Picture of a bridge.

Finally, we get up into Oregon, into the Cascades, and head into Washington. The whole time, we're hiking, camping, spending time in nature... it's really just one of the coolest experiences of my life. (Not sure what summit this was.)

So, here's the thing about old cars with carburetors - you needs to adjust them for altitude. An ideal fuel ratio at sea level is called stoichiometric -- which means 14.7 parts air, to 1 part fuel. As you gain altitude, you need to lean out your carb jets.

Mount Jefferson is something like 10,000 feet, so as we're driving up, probably around 6,000-7,000 feet, the van starts running way too rich. It was obvious. So... I was like, "Tyler, pull over. I'm gonna lean out these jets."

One a single barrel carb, you're only dealing with a few screws and springs, and basically.. you just kinda guess at it. (LOL.) So, I'm just listening to the engine, and then I would reach over and tap the gas pedal to see how it sounded.

So, Tyler steps out of the van, and I'm hunched over the engine, just twisting on the screws, and I hit the gas, and Tyler is like. "Holy Shit!" At first, I'm like, "Oh my God, something is on fire." So I pop up, and look around and I'm like, "What?"

Tyler, is like "What the fuck is that? I look down at the carb, and I'm like... "I dunno? Which part are you looking at? Does something look broken?" He's like, "No Dude! Look On The Cover!"

I look to my left, on the underside of the engine cover, and there's what appears to be a brick of aluminum foil, and it's taped up with aluminum tape that clamshell cover. Immediately, I'm like, "Oh shit what the fuck?"

So, I stop what I'm doing, turn the engine off, and start slowly prying this aluminum brick off the underside of the clamshell. Tyler is freaking out. (He doesn't do drugs.) He's like, "Oh my God! It's like on cops when they find drugs hidden in the car!"

I get the brick untaped, and then undo like seven layers of foil. They used a Lot of foil on this thing. What I found was a white, perfectly shrink wrapped brick. I thought it was coke, so I cut open a bit of the corner, put some on my finger, and rubbed it on my gums.

Edit of Finn and Jake from Adventure Time with flames and a galaxy background with text reading: Drugs.

If you've ever done coke, you know it's kinda hot, and then it makes your gums numb. This definitely wasn't coke, and I'm not the type of dude who does heroin. (Just, don't do heroin. Seriously. It's no good.)

So, Tyler and I are standing next to each other, when I hear tires on the gravel behind us. Let me paint you a picture: We're standing there with the hood up, clamshell open, side by side, with a brick of pure heroin.

Who do you think rolled up?

Man, a goddamn Park Ranger rolls up behind us. Just so you know, park rangers are the police. They have guns, and they just happen to work in a park. They can arrest you and everything.

I'm holding a brick of heroin in my hands, and there's a park ranger 30 feet behind me. So I reach down, and pretend to go into my tool kit. Thankfully my hands are greasy as hell, and I can pick up some tools. So I slide the brick under the seat.

I pop around with and pretend I'm putting a socket set on a breaker bar, and I'm like, "Oh hey there. How can I help you?" The guy is like, "You guys having trouble?" I'm like, "I'm just trying to jet the carbs." He's like, Oh, I remember doing that when I was your age."

Then he's like, "You ever done it before?" I'm like, "I'm kinda just learning as I go here. We're from California." The dude laughs and he's like, "Here, I'll show you."

So the ranger walks over, and he's like, "I remember these old Ram vans. So much room."

We open up the clamshell, and this guy's knee is like two inches from this brick. Man, I'm trying so hard to act normal, but Tyler? He's not playing it cool at all. He's like, "You know, I'm sure Shane can figure it out. We don't need you wasting your time on us."

The ranger is like, "Oh it's no big deal. Most of the time I'm just telling people to put their trash higher up, so the bears can't get to it." So he's just chatting with us, and I'm telling him how we bought the van and drove all the way up the coast, etc.

Finally, we get the jets set, and the ranger is like, "Alright, you boys stay safe." Lile, he had no clue he was probably two inches away from the biggest drug bust in the history of Oregon state parks.

Once he drives off, Tyler is freaking out, "Oh my God!? What are we gonna fucking do, man?" I'm just like, "Uh, we're gonna make a shit ton of money selling a brick of heroin." So, I wrapped it up, and just stuck it in the bottom of the cooler in freezer bags, under the ice.

Then, we drive up into Seattle, and I call one of my buddies who I know sells a shit ton of weight. I'm like, "Yo ******, we need to talk." I won't go into all the details, but I managed to sell it all to one person. It was lower risk. Plus, I'm not a drug dealer.

For the record, my buddy Tyler wouldn't take any of the money. Eventually, I convinced him to let me give him $600 for the van, so I could say I bought the van myself. (The van was in his name.) But this story isn't over yet...

I end up selling the van to some hippies from Ashland, and then move to Atlanta. About a year goes by, and I'm not even thinking about this van anymore. Then I get a phone call from a number I don't know. I let it go to voicemail.

The same number calls me again, 30 seconds later. So I answer it. "Hello?" The voice on the other line: "Hey, can I speak to Shane?" I'm like, "Speaking?"

Dude is like, hey, my dad gave me your number. He said he sold a van to you about a year ago?

Immediately, I'm like, "Yeah, he sold me a van." The guy is like, "Wow, that's great news. I'm so glad I found you. So, I don't like to talk about this, but I was in jail. I had a substance abuse problem, and I ended up going to jail because I made some mistakes."

I'm thinking, "What's the angle here?" So I'm like, "Oh, well -- that sucks. Anyway, how can I help you?" So the dude goes into this crazy ass long story. He tells me about how he has so many memories with the van. Yeah, it was in his dad's name, but it was his first car.

"I know it's just a beat up old van, but I'd really like to buy it back from you. Dad says you paid something like $1200 for it. I think I'd be willing to go as high as say, $1800 to get it back. The memories are just worth that to me."

The light goes on in my head. Jail. Substance abuse. He wants the van back. He is willing to pay $600 back over what I paid for it. (Street value, bagged up, if you slow-sell it, there was something like $40,000 worth of heroin in that brick.) This dude wanted his brick back.

The guy didn't go to jail because he had a substance abuse problem. No heroin junkie can afford $40,000 in heroin. The guy did tie because he was the plug. So... I decide to make some money.

Picture of Phoebe from Friends doing an evil laugh

I don't own this van anymore, but I definitely know who I sold it to, and I know I can buy it back, so... I start spinning a story. I'm like, "Man $1800 just won't do it. I've put a lot of money into this van, and it's really running like a top now. It's my daily driver."

He's like, "Oh yeah?" I'm like, "Yeah dude. She's in great condition. I redid the carb, the breaks, all the fuel lines, put some tires on it, redid the carpet on the interior, a lot. I've probably put at least $5,000 into this thing." He's like, "Wow, you really did a lot."

So he's like, "Where are you located?" I'm like, "Oh, I'm up in Ashland, Oregon." (Remember: I was in Atlanta.) He's like, Oh, that's not too bad. If it runs as well as you say, I may just drive up there with a friend and then drive it back down here."

So finally he's like, "I respect that you put a lot of work into it. Like I said, the van has a lot of sentimental value to me, and I'm glad to hear you took care of it. I think I could offer you $6200. That's what you paid for it, plus the $5000 you say you invested."

So I said, "Alright, you have a deal." As soon as we hung up, I called the people in Oregon I sold the van to (I kinda sorta knew them through friends), and I was like, "Hey, do you still have that van?" They're like, "Yeah, but it's not running." I'm like, "Oh?"

I was like, "You care if I buy it back from you?" The guy was like, "Dude, I'll sell it for $100 if you just get it out of my driveway." So I was like, "Sold." I booked a ticket to Portland the next day, and then rented a car, and drove to Ashland.

Along the way, I called up the old owner of the van's son, and I'm like, "Hey will you be free to drive up this weekend?" He's like, "Oh yeah. Totally. I can come up." It will only take me two days to drive up there." It was Tuesday. We agreed to meet on Sunday.

I fly into Portland, rent a car, and then get to Ashland on Wednesday. I go to an auto parts store, and buy a battery jumper kit, and some hand tools. I need to get the van running. I go to see the van, and it's sitting there, pretty dusty, but otherwise okay.

TL:DR -- the only thing wrong with the van was a bad battery. This couple just didn't want to spend any money on the van, because they had recently purchased a Subaru Outback. (Go figure. It's Ashland.) So, I changed the battery in an auto parts store parking lot.

Then, I took the van to one of those self cleaning car wash places, and gave it a good wash and vacuum. Honestly, it cleaned up really nice. At this point, I decided to check in with the guy, and kinda fuck with him a little bit in the process.

The guy answers really fast, and he's like "Shane! Hey buddy, what's up?" I'm like, hey, I do want to mention one thing about the van, and I hope this doesn't change your plans about buying it." He goes silent. "What's up?"

I was like, "I don't want you to be mad but, uhm, after I bought the van, my friends and I... we uh... we wrote on the outside of it with permanent marker. I can't get it off. I tried." And I hear him sigh like Hella loud. "Oh, that's fine. I can repaint it."

I'm like, "I want to be fair on the price, because I didn't tell you. So... how about I knock $200 off? I just want to pay whatever is fair to get the marker off." He says, "Thanks for telling me. I'll accept the $200 discount. See you Sunday?" I'm like, "Yup!"

So, next things next: I need to make a fake brick of heroin. So I head to a Goodwill, and buy a medium sized paperback book. It was "The Pelican Brief". I thought that was a funny detail for some reason. (Good book. Also a good movie.)

Then I get in my rental, and took off to Medford, because I couldn't find aluminium tape anywhere near Ashland. I got there, got my tape, and then bought some heavy duty foil in a grocery store. From there, I drove back to Ashland.

Making the fake brick was actually pretty easy. I just wrapped it up the same way I remember the brick being wrapped, and then taped it down with aluminium tape the same way I remember it being taped--kinda like a tic-tac-toe board. They had taped the Shit out of it.

Then... I just kinda waited. On Friday, I got a phone call from the dude letting me know he was on the road, and I said "Hey, my mechanic says we can use his bay in case you want to inspect it." And the dude was like, "Oh that won't be necessary." I'm like, "Oh I insist."

On Saturday, I called a local mechanic and I was like, "Hey, I'm selling my van to some people from out of state, and I was hoping I could give you $50 in case they want to use one of your bays to look under the care for a moment?"

(Car buying tip: Any mechanic worth his salt will take you up on this offer. It's good for both the buyer and the seller to have a mechanic take a look. They know they'll be getting any work on any fix they identify.)

We meet at this local shop on a Sunday afternoon. The guy shows up in a late model, silver Nissan Altima. He's heavily tattooed, and so is his friend. These guys look like real, OG, Mexican bangers. Like, dude is wearing the blue Nike Cortez's and Dickies. It's That look.

Immediately, I realize these aren't the soft dudes I think they are. They're real gangster, they move real weight, and I'm doing something incredibly stupid. I'm about to rip off two guys who look like they bury people neck deep and let coyotes eat your face off.

But I'm there, and they're in front of me, so I gotta go through with it. So I give them a tour. We walk around the van. It's clean. It has tire shine on it. I've washed it, and even waxed it. It looks as good as a 1979 Dodge can look.

The guy is like, "So you've done some engine work?" I'm like, "Yeah, carb, plug wires, distributor, etc." He's like, "Can I take a look?" So I help him lift the clamshell, and there's no rats nest, it's looking clean-ish... and it's sort silent. So I talk...

"When I got in here, there was a Huge rat's nest. I cleaned that out, then I got to work on the carb, the plugs, wires, belts, hoses. It's all new in there." Then, the dude reaches over, and straight up taps the aluminium brick. I start sweating. He looks at me. I look at him.

The first thing that came out of my mouth was. "I didn't bother redoing any of the heat shielding on the clamshell. Honestly, I prefer having some heating coming off the block in the winter, but I can see why you did it. Southern California is hot."

I was trying so hard to play it dumb as hell, and I sold it. He says back to me, "Yeah, this tape costs about $20 a roll, but it's worth it to beat the heat." I laugh, "Yeah, the AC just barely works. I think you've got a leak in the system somewhere."

Then he throws a curveball at me. "Can I take it for a drive?" I'm like, "Oh totally." He's like, "Do you mind if my friend drives behind me, in case it breaks down?" I say, "Oh you go right ahead." At this point, I'm thinking he's going to drive off, never to be seen again.

He's gone for about 20 minutes, and then he comes back. He's got a big smile on his face, and he's like, "Wow, it still drives great. Let's negotiate." So I'm like, "Well, you did say $6,000?" He comes back at me and he's like, "Well, I gotta ship this van back."

I'm like, "Okay, well... what's a fair price?" He says, "You have the title here in your hands?" I say. "Well, actually, I had to do a lost title But I can mail it to you in like a week." (The reality was I did, but I hadn't done the transfer from the couple yet.)

He's like, "Alright, you know, you seem like a good guy. You can mail it in a week?" I'm like, "Yup." He says, "$5000. Because it'll cost me $1,000 to ship. You're a wild man for driving this old beast as far as you did." So we shake hands. It's a deal.

I have a notepad with me, and I say, "Alright, let me write you up a bill of sale." So I write his name, and my name. His address, and my "address" (a local Ashland address where I definitely have never lived), and the "cost" of the vehicle. This is a funny wrinkle...

I said to the guy, "Hey, I'm going to write on the bill of sale that you only paid $1,000 for the van, so you can avoid paying more taxes in California when you go register it." (You pay taxes on the sale.) He's like, "Oh, thanks. I didn't think of that."

Using the hood to press on, I sign my name, he signs his, and then he's like, "Alright, here's the $5,000. Cash." So he hands reaches into his pocket, and when he does, he moves his shirt in such a way that he obviously exposes a gun in his waistband. He pauses.

As he's handing me the cash, he smiles and says, "Thanks for taking care of my van, Shane. I'm relieved to see you left my heat shielding how it was. There's a lot of value in heat shielding. Some might say it's worth quite a bit." He gets this look in his eyes. It's dark.

He continues. "You seem like a smart guy. Smart guys don't talk about things they find. They might even buy new aluminium tape, but be careless enough to leave the roll in the back seat." My throat turned into a knot. Like, my whole mouth went dry as fuck.

He stares into my fucking soul. Like, Into me, fam. Then he gets this big ass smile on his face grabs me by my shoulder, and he smiles, "If you were even smarter, you would have asked for $10,000." The he starts laughing, and the guy he's with starts laughing.

"You know, you're a hustler Shane. What do you do?" I breathe a sigh of relief. "I'm a web developer." He says, "You could have been a stone cold hustler in another life. I've never been hustled before, but you had the cajones to get your money. I like that."

They hadn't checked to see what was inside the foil. The only knew that I taped it back. So I went with it. "Well, you know. I found it when I was working on the van. I just didn't know how I'd ever sell it, so it's been in my freezer for a year now." He busts up laughing.

"Homey, you kept it in the freezer? That's wild man." So then we just sorta chop it up outside this mechanic's shop for about 20 minutes. He and I had the same taste in rap music. I wanted to just keep him happy. I was trying to think of my exit plan.

Finally, he's like, "Alright, you know I don't want this van, but ship it to me anyway. Here's $5,000. Keep the change." To be clear -- he had give me $5,000 already for the van, and then gave me Another $5,000. I played it cool. "Close enough to $10K." I dapped him up.

As soon as they left the parking lot, I sprinted into the mechanic's office where he was sitting, and he was like, "Son, that was the most obvious drug deal I have ever seen. I already called the police." I felt my heart go from 0 to one million.

Then the mechanic winks at me, and he's like, "I'm just fucking with you. Man, this is Oregon. Everyone smokes weed. Calm down. I didn't call the cops." He sees my face, and he's like, "You should have seen the look on your face." (I wasn't amused.)

The problem was, the clock was ticking. I didn't know when those dudes were going to open the foil and realize I'd just hustled them, so I was like, "Hey, if I give you $200, will you let me keep that van parked here for two days until I can get it shipped?"

He's like, "If it's here longer than two days, I'm gonna charge you. If it stays here, it's mine." So I was like, "That's fine. I'll be back" (I knew at that moment the van was going to belong to him. I was never coming back. Most states have laws for mechanics like that.)

I walked out of the mechanics office, and then walked literally seven miles back to my rental, parked at my little motel. Ashland is a small town, and I had picked the cheapest motel. I wanna say it was like a Super 8 or something?

The road this motel is on is like, pretty long and straight. Like, you could see a full quarter mile down the road, no problem. As I'm about 400 yards away from the entrance, I see a silver Nissan Altima pull in, and go to the front office.

As I walk closer, I see two guys get out, and I realize it's the same guys. They haven't seen me, but we're staying at the same fucking motel. So, I start speed walking. When I check in, it took a while, so I knew I needed to hustle so I wasn't seen.

I took off the flannel I was wearing, so I'd be in a white tank top. I folded the flannel up super small, and walked as fast as someone can walk without looking like a moron. My room was on the back side of the motel, upstairs.

Basically, as soon as I cleared the vision line of the back wall, I went into a full sprint, and ran as fast as I could up the stairs, and into my room. No sooner than the moment I slammed my door, I went over the the drapes, and peeked out. The silver Altima was driving around.

I shit you not, these guys parked two spaces away from my rental car, and their room was Directly below mine. It's a damn cheap hotel, so I could kinda/sorta hear them talking. Not word for word, but definitely the vocal tones, plus their TV.

When I saw I was quiet as a mouse, I mean, I just sat in bed, didn't turn the TV on, didn't move, and when I had to pee, I held it. I was terrified. Then... I heard it.

I heard the guy yell. (start all caps) "Motherfucker! I'm going to fucking kill him!" (end caps) Then I hear them screaming, but it's not clear what they're saying. They yell for like 15 minutes. Then they get quiet. My phone rings. It's a blocked number.

I sent it to voicemail. It rings again. Blocked number. I sent it to voicemail. Then, I hear them yelling a bit more, and then I hear the door downstairs slam. I peek out of the little gap in the drapes, and watch them take off.

As soon as I saw the car clear the corner, I left.

I grabbed my backpack, flew down the stairs, and got into my rental. I was getting the fuck out of Ashland before I got killed. I had been on the road about an hour when the guy calls me again, this time, from his real number. Not a blocked number.

I answered, "Hey M*****, What's up?" He's yelling, (start all caps) "We've got a fucking problem! You need to bring me my money, right now!" (end caps)

I was did what I do, and talked shit-- "I take it you're not a big fan of John Grisham novels. You should really give him a chance before you get angry."

The dude flew off the handle. Like he's just shouting. (start all caps) "Motherfucker I will kill you!" (end caps) over and over, so finally I'm like, M****. Calm down. Just listen. I think we can make a deal here." So he gets a little less on edge. "What's your deal?"

I said, "Look, I know you're staying at the (Whatever) Hotel. We'll meet up there. You show me you've got your gun on the hood of your car so I know I'm safe." He's like, "Okay. And?" I said, "Then, I'll take back The Pelican Brief, wrapped in foil."

"... and then I'll give you what you really want. A Tom Clancy novel. Everyone loves war fiction." He got quiet. He didn't say shit. "I'll fucking murder you, Shane. You robbed me. You fucking die from this." Then he hung up.

In 2017, the guy I ripped off for his brick of heroin was found guilty, with four other guys, of raping and murdering a 13 year old girl. They were all prominent MS-13 gang members. He got LWOP'd in his sentence. So it looks like he won't be killing me.

... and that's the story of the time I bought a van with a brick of heroin in it that belonged to an MS-13 gang member, sold the brick, and then sold him his van back with a wrapped up John Grisham novel, for $10,000. Somehow, I didn't die.

/thread /End IDs]

[nopicklesnomayo]

Happy Valentine's Day My Dearest Isabella

Here are some potential people you could body swap with and I'd never stop loving you.

Uncle Frank from Hellraiser. He is hot and into pain.

Amu Saddam al-Takriti. You have quasi-authoritarian sympathies. So maybe? Would be rough on me for a few reasons--but it is really you inside so how can i really complain?

Abu Dhabi dildo reptilian. no brainer.

UCSB karaoke guy--would be confusing for all of us but we'd figure it out.

British Airways boarding pass to London. I kinda like the idea of you giving life to an inanimate object. Hot and weird.

baby wisammy. would be tough but I'd do it for you for us.

and maybe our girl SP. But mostly I just want you. You're the love of my life and a dream come true. Thank god for you. I will never stop loving you and I will spend all my days devoted to making you giggle and brushing your hair and talking to (and with total focus on) you.

[strattonxpressions]

Ethan Lee

1. Name, Year, Major, and Hometown

Ethan Lee, Third Year Computer Science Major, San Mateo CA

2. What is your earliest childhood memory? 

My earliest childhood memory is going to Chinatown for egg tarts and dim sum in preschool with my parents and grandparents.

3. What’s stopping you?

The one thing that is stopping me is time.

4. What is something about yourself that you’re proud of?

Something about myself that I am proud of is not getting a parking ticket yet.

5. If you could have any one question answered truthfully, what would it be?

What are the powerball lottery numbers for next week?

6. Who is your celebrity/fictional crush? 

My celebrity crush is Saerom from fromis_9.

7. How would you spend your ideal birthday? 

I would ideally spend my birthday exploring a destination I have never been before such as Singapore, New York or Tokyo.

8. What food that starts with the first letter of your name would you only eat for the rest of your life?

One food that starts with the letter E and would eat for the rest of my life is egg tarts.

9. What’s one niche interest you have that you must share with the world?

like wasting time by looking at stocks and google flights.

10. What is a memory with your closest friend and how does it exemplify your friendship together and how you value friendship as a whole (250 words minimum)

During the end of senior year, I supported one of my friends who struggled during the college admissions process and helped her navigate alternative options when she dealt with unexpected admissions decisions. To many, she would be considered an outstanding student with good grades, heavy extracurricular and community involvement, and high scores in the SAT and AP exams. In particular, she was known to be an exceptional writer, often scoring the highest in the class on essays, research papers, and timed writes. She had future career aspirations in law and wanted to pursue a career in corporate law. To everyone’s surprise, she was rejected from every college she applied to except for the University of Wisconsin, where she was waitlisted. Devastated by her decisions, she had difficulty determining what her options were. Although she faced pressure from her family and other figures to attend the University of Wisconsin because it was the only college that accepted her, she had several hesitations including out-of-state tuition, the weather, overall campus culture, and location in the Midwest. Alternatively, her dream school was UC Santa Barbara, and her other option was attending community college and transferring to UCSB. Although some of our mutual friends believed she would have been successful attending UW Madison, the conversations I had with her about what she wanted in college and what she planned to do convinced her to attend community college. Two years later, she is a political science and sociology double major at UCSB and is currently preparing for the LSAT. She agrees that attending community college and transferring was the better option and allowed her to become more prepared and eager to pursue a career in law. Ultimately, this experience allowed me to recognize the importance of friendship and how unique each specific relationship is. Everyone has their own path in life and as a friend, I should do what's necessary to help them pursue their goals rather than having them conform to a specific expectation.

[arshs-artpage]

World Of Tomorrow (2015)

World of Tomorrow is a critically acclaimed animated short by Don Hertzfeldt that blends science fiction, dark humour and deep existential themes in a 17 minute, adventure packed film with immersive background visuals yet having the stick figure characters. The film was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Animated Short Film and has been enjoyed by many ever since due to Don's unique style.

Don Hertzfeldt is an independent animator and filmmaker known for his innovative storytelling, and minimalistic art specially known for creating films that explores deeper into the existential themes. He was born in Fremont, California 1976, and studied film making at University of California (UCSB). Hertzfeldt has remained fiercely independent, producing, animating, and funding his films himself. He is considered one of the most influential animators of his time showing that great stories can be shown with simple visuals. His commitment to creativity has allowed him to have a unique voice in the industry, he even voiced all the characters in World of Tomorrow(2015) except for Emily Prime, who was voiced by his 4-year old niece.

The film begins with Emily Prime, an innocent child messing around in a place, is contacted by Emily 3, a clone from the distant future through a weird looking big machine. Emily 3 describes how cloning and consciousness transfers have degraded her memories.She shares some memories through her lifetime, including falling in love with a rock, which is kind of metaphorical and preserving the consciousness of a loved one in a digital cube, where he endlessly screams. Throughout the story, Emily prime's innocence is shown as opposed to Emily 3's inhuman and more robotic nature. In the end, Emily 3’s real motive to contact Emily is reveals, she needs one of Emily Prime’s pure memories of her walking with her mother before her death. Coming to the end, Emily is returned to her usual life, unaffected by what was revealed to her.

Hertzfeldt employed a blend of traditional hand drawn animation and digital effects. He incorporated photographic textures and real-world elements to add depth and complexity. The film reflects on how memories shape our identity and relationships but can degrade over time, especially when they are neglected. The film talks about how technological advancements might impact humanity.

World of Tomorrow received widespread acclaim for its originality. Critics praised Hertzfeldt’s ability to tackle profound subjects with simplicity and emotional impact. Through the difference between simplicity of Emily Prime's nature and the complexity seen in Emily 3's, it invites us to enjoy the fading happiness of our present moments.

[dancam]

went for little walk before bed

[cleoenfaserum]

Teenage Apocalypse of Gregg Araki TOTALLY F***ED UP + DOOM GENERATION + NOWHERE. (reblog 1261)

Gregg Araki’s Teen Apocalypse Trilogy

Take the conventions of the American teen movie, transpose them to Los Angeles’s freaky fringes, anchor them in an unapologetic vision of sexual fluidity, and top it all off with heavy doses of Gen X disillusionment, gonzo violence, and hallucinogenic surrealism, and you’ll end up with something like these audacious transgressions from New Queer Cinema renegade Gregg Araki. Gleefully mixing slacker irony with raw sincerity, Godardian cool with punk scuzz, the savagely subversive, hormone-fueled films that make up the Teen Apocalypse Trilogy pushed 1990s indie cinema into bold new aesthetic realms, while giving blistering expression to adolescent rage and libidinal desire. Gregg Araki’s Teen Apocalypse Trilogy | The Criterion Collection

Totally F***ed Up (also known as Totally Fucked Up) is a 1993 American drama film written and directed by Gregg Araki. The first installment of Araki's Teenage Apocalypse film trilogy, it is considered a seminal entry in the New Queer Cinema genre.

Araki classified it as "a rag-tag story of the fag-and-dyke teen underground....a kinda cross between avant-garde experimental cinema and a queer John Hughes flick."

Totally F***ed Up - Wikipedia

The film chronicles the dysfunctional lives of six gay adolescents who have formed a family unit and struggle to get along with each other and with life in the face of various major obstacles.

Totally F***ed Up (1993) - IMDb 6'4

link https://ok.ru/video/7937446185714

link with Spanish subtitles: https://youtu.be/2Wm90wBEWxk

The Doom Generation is a 1995 independent dark crime comedy film co-produced, co-edited, written and directed by Gregg Araki,

The plot follows two troubled teenage lovers who pick up an adolescent drifter and embark on a journey full of sex, violence, and convenience stores.

Billed as "A Heterosexual Movie by Gregg Araki", The Doom Generation is the second installment in the director's trilogy known as the Teenage Apocalypse film trilogy, preceded by Totally Fucked Up (1993) and followed by Nowhere (1997).

The characters of Amy Blue and Jordan White are based on the Mark Beyer comic strip "Amy and Jordan".

The Doom Generation - Wikipedia

Jordan White and Amy Blue, two troubled teens, pick up an adolescent drifter, Xavier Red. Together, the threesome embark on a sex-and-violence-filled journey through an America of psychos and quickie marts.

The Doom Generation (1995) - IMDb 6'1

link https://ok.ru/video/7223653042815

Nowhere is a 1997 American black comedy drama film written and directed by Gregg Araki. Described by Araki as "Beverly Hills 90210 on acid", the film follows a day in the lives of a group of Los Angeles college students and the strange lives that they lead. It stars an ensemble cast led by James Duval and Rachel True.

Like the other films in the trilogy, it contains scenes of graphic violence and sexuality. The film notably includes several cast members on the verge of stardom.

Nowhere (1997 film) - Wikipedia

Follows a day in the lives of a group of Los Angeles high school students and the strange lives they lead.

Nowhere (1997) - IMDb 6'5

link https://ok.ru/video/39447300674

Gregg Araki (born December 17, 1959) is an American filmmaker. He is noted for his heavy involvement with the New Queer Cinema movement. His film Kaboom (2010) was the first winner of the Cannes Film Festival Queer Palm.

Araki was born in Los Angeles on December 17, 1959, to Japanese American parents. He grew up in nearby Santa Barbara, California, and enrolled in college at the University of California, Santa Barbara. He graduated with a B.A. from UCSB in 1982. He later attended the University of Southern California's School of Cinematic Arts, where he graduated with a Master of Fine Arts in 1985.

[8blrog]

A last night of thoughts that carried into a 4:30 am wake up where I literally started to think about everything good in my life ending.

The end of college, the end of study abroad with Madrid squad, the limbo that is my love life right now… essentially everything that I live in right now coming to an end and everything changing. I shedded a few tears.

I think I’ve always been like this. How I’ve always been scared to forget, or deeply terrified that I will forget to breathe it all in. Or the worst: watching my life pass by in front of my eyes like sand running through my fingers.

I remember asking chris this summer, when the expiration sticker got put on our time together: “how do I enjoy it all without the thought of it ending consuming me?” I think his answer was to just not think about it and enjoy it while it’s in front of you.

I already knew this in theory, less so in practice, and even less so in moments like right now.

I remember when I was in 5th grade anticipating the end of elementary school, the same way I wrote the night before I graduated high school, and I know that in a year’s time I’ll be worried about breathing in my last year of UCSB. This is the nature of life, right? Change is the only constant. And I know that because it is, I shouldn’t fight it so hard.But the endings of things weigh really heavy on me.

I mean, taking a step back; how truly special it is that I have things in my life that hurt so bad when they end. And maybe I need to reframe my view of this process. I would like to think these moments of worry and fear fuel me to document and live in these moments. Writing, taking photos, and having my private all-consuming moments within the moments that make me try to really remember these little corners of my life.

At my core, I am still that same girl behind the last handball court, writing a list of my top 10 friends because I was scared of forgetting what I held dear to me in the moment. And though, that list is obsolete now and those people are too, the practice is still there. Those lists are still authentic slices of life that I wanted to remember.

Life is complicated this way. You get really caught up in the day-to-days: the todo’s, the minutes of time, and where you have to be at 3PM. But the scary part is that a year of your life will pass you by like it was nothing, and you’ll continue to get caught up in the day-to-day, as if it won’t happen it again.

I’m not scared of this. I know that this is the way it goes. I think I’m scared of forgetting this fact and forgetting all the nuances that shape me into the person that I am.

It could be that I just want to honor the experiences and moments that make up my life. So I’ll continue to make monthly playlists and lists of my friends and I’m going to keep writing and taking pictures forever. And maybe it’s okay for the reason to be because I’m scared.

This part gets abstract but I hope you understand: It feels as though these things are so precious when I hold them and only upon reflection do I realize this. It’s as if I got to hold a baby tiger or something crazy like that. I’m silenced in the moment and later I’m running to my research journal to talk about all the things I felt and saw. And one day I’ll get to look back and remember how it felt to hold a baby tiger.

[postmoderntongues]

Realizing now that my weird attraction to gross characters is my inability to tell “well written/acted” characters/admiration for an artist or autistic interest in a pop culture figure like an artist or criminal to wanting to be important to them through marriage and therefor as I grew older sex which was the only way I was raised to believe a woman could be important. When I was very little I said I wanted to marry RL Stein, Rod Sterling, and Sergei Prokofiev (I absolutely said his name wrong but idr how I said it) without ever having seen a picture of 2/3 and thinking Rod Sterling looked kind of like a Disney Prince because of his haircut and liking his show like turns out I just like art and things that make me feel intensely especially things that make me feel afraid in a safe way because I have adhd to the point where I literally cannot function and am a disastrous dopamine seeker which I satiate with high octane media, marijuana, and carefully monitored but somewhat heavy adderall use but it keeps me from doing high risk behaviors and shit like self mutilating or b/p-ing out of under-stimulation or taking hard drugs (not that I don’t consider adderall hard I don’t think it or benzos should be given to anybody under 21) and allows me to beat my depression enough to do a few basic household tasks and even read a bit which like honestly is a miracle and I actually am enough of an adult now to be moderate about it and only use it a few days a week (at 19-23 I was taking every single one I was prescribed down to the day the way I was taking benzos up until recently and I was on 3x the dose back then) and like I’m confident that it’s not damaging anything because my dr orders a lot of testing and I also go to the hospital once or twice a year on average where I get a full heart thing (forgot what it’s called but the thing with the stickers) and blood work, never for more than like a week or two and sometimes I don’t go for years at a time but this is the worst year I’ve had since before the pandemic I went 3 times and also did a round in partial which I don’t really remember due to being snow on haldol but people not taking responsibility for their mental health is how most antisocial crimes (not drug/property crime but actual immoral shit like columbine or the ucsb shooting) happen and I’m honest with my therapist about what’s going on in my head even if it means I have to go under observation for a while until the episode passes and people feel safe with me being a member of the public again as minimally as I do/can participate like I’d rather deal with a week or two out of the year in the hospital than people in a dangerous state be not treated like a medical emergency that requires observation and rest at the very least and possibly medication which needs to be monitored closely especially in cases where high doses are used so that mentally ill people don’t wind up sentenced to a life of slave labor in the prison system or dead or hurting somebody else if you want people who are mentally ill to the point that they can’t participate in normal society or in a condition where they feel that they are not in control of themselves and at risk for making a bad potentially permanent choice to feel safe calling attention to and addressing their medical emergency and that means not only not throwing them into poverty/prison and giving them access to therapy and medication but funding hospitals and making them as pleasant and dignified as humanly possible so that you don’t feel like you are being punished for being sick if you are sick enough to have to spend time there this is a novel of a rant and I don’t think anybody will read it but I kind of just wanted to say it

[careygly]

I'm beyond proud of you Ryan for graduating with an engineering degree from UCSB! 🎓💙 The past four years have been filled with many challenges, but your perseverance has been nothing short of amazing. It's been a joy to share in all the milestones in your young life, and I can't wait to celebrate even more achievements together. Here's to your bright future and all the incredible things ahead! 🌟🚀 #UCSBGrad #EngineeringStrong #ProudMoment #NextChapter