Free Online She's Missing no sign up dual audio gomovies HD Alexandra McGuinness
- director Alexandra McGuinness
- Score 182 vote
- Christian Camargo, Lucy Fry
If you like this drama, enjoy. Drama is caused by 51% of the world's population which have the same destructive nature. Movies with humans have the hero and girl trying to get with each other. They even include animals assuming human characteristics of that man-woman nonsense. Be careful of what gets brainwashed into your subconscious from this. Watch out for hole guys. The romance angle (romance(tm) is too much a term for this) is handled charmingly/cutesy but all of this is like aw man here we go with this stuff. I know this movie is showing guidance to males how to deal with females. All imagination shown in this movie, creativity is the male ability, while females are replication of humans (aka babies) so both goals are contrasts with each other and know if you stick it in their hole your creativity goes swoosh disintegrates, you fall inline with patriarchy which is uncompromising. Replication is them celebrating the debauchery of humankind while creativity is trying to get closer to God (creating imaginative things.) Any contact with female is the road to babies guys. Even the cutesy way movie dalliances are portrayed. I cant provide all the know-how on the matter, what I can state here that someone else hasn't figured throughout the thousands of yrs of human knowledge. They want to grind up men but it is I who grind them into fine dust. I get it's hormones, just j/o in toilet or napkin.
Excelente dicción en su inglés, me sorprende no soy su fan de ella pero, perfecto inglés. She's missing and exploited children. How can a director get things so bad with such a good cast. It's the proverbial question when people go on quiz shows and clearly do not have an understanding of trivia let alone knowledge. This film shows that the director has basically seen the same film over and over again, nothing new at all and no ability.
Ooooh look, petulant, misunderstood young girls either madly dancing or sitting in a circle with other equally drugged girls angry at everything, nope never seen that before. Drama it is not, dross it is, take note Irish Film Board, parents and husband ability does not equate to all family members being talented.
She's missing movie 2019. She 27s missing now. Who else is really worried and wants them to stay safe. I hope she sees this videos and comes back home. She's missing 2019 imdb. She's missing movie wikipedia. She& 39;s missing release date. ❤ her very much. #HarryAndMeghan #TheDukeAndDuchessOfSussex #BabyArchieHarrisonMountbattenWindsor. She& 39;s missing.
Is the blond guy Mr Knightley? Hmmmm, don't really like it
I didnt know anything was wrong until the police arrived. As it turned out, Henry had been missing for twelve hours. His wife had left the front porch light on for his expected late arrival (as usual) and nestled into bed but when she awoke the next morning the sheets beside her were still folded flat. Hallway shouts went unanswered, as did phone calls. There was no truck in the driveway and after a search of the house proved fruitless, she called the police to file a missing persons report. Our rural town is small (population 2, 723) and because of the far proximity from large cities we have no “team” to rally behind during professional sporting events. So the pillar of the community is, and always has been, the local high school team (Go Cougars. where fans arrive in droves to support the kids no matter the sport. Because of this outpouring of support, everyone in town knows Henry. Not only did he attend every game with gloves fashioned to resemble cougar paws but he also had been the school custodian since the Cougars won the championship in 91. The town adored him. I adored him. So you can imagine my frustration when three sheriffs deputies made loops around my property while the sheriff, portly and stone-faced as ever, interrogated me about the truck they found across the road from my driveway. “I told you, Henry always parked there so my muddy driveway wouldnt get his truck dirty. I dont know why his truck is still there. ” “What do you mean by that? ” The sheriff asked incredulously. “My heating unit was acting up. It made rattling noises and the house smelled like gas sometimes so I needed someone to take a look. You know Henry does odd jobs all over town so I called him and asked him if he would look at it. ” “Did he? ” “I suppose. I wasnt home. Me and some buddies watched NFL at Hooligans until late and before you ask - no, I didnt drive drunk. ” “So you saw him? ” “No. ” The sheriff grunted and scratched his stubbly chin. “If you never saw him then how did you know he came by? ” “Because Henry left the backdoor unlocked. Oh, and he forgot to lift up the attic ladder. When I came inside the house was freezing. ” “How did he get in? ” “I reminded him where to find the spare key. ” “So you trust him. You two are friends? ” “Absolutely. It may seem strange but Ive known Henry my whole life. I allowed him to do the same thing the last two times hes done work at my house, let himself inside my home. Once was to patch up some drywall and the other time he replaced a sink basin in the guest bathroom. I trust him. ” “His last known location - and this is coming from his wife too - is this house. YOUR house. And now hes vanished. ” I glowered at him and lifted myself from the couch. “Are you saying Im a suspect? ” “No, ” he said with a trace of laughter (I didnt believe him. He lifted from the recliner and patted my shoulder. “Were questioning everyone, part of the job. Did you see his truck when you soberly came home last night? ” “From what your deputy said earlier it was parked near the cattle gate. I came back from Hooligans in the other direction. So no, I didnt see it. Had I seen it, I probably wouldve called you myself. ” “When did you return from the bar? ” “Late last night. Probably midnight or one. ” “If I contact those buddies of yours, the ones from the bar, theyll corroborate your story? ” “Yes, sir. I hope you do call them. ” He nodded rapidly, an acknowledgement of disbelief about most - if not all - of the things Id told him. He hitched his belt up under his belly and plodded out of my living room and toward the porch. Before the front door could close on him he caught the knob then poked his head through the threshold. “Before I go, I gotta ask. Do you believe in coincidences? ” I palmed the back of my neck. “Um, I guess so. Why? ” “When did you buy this house? ” “Last summer. Couldnt pass up on the price. ” He edged a shoulder into the foyer followed by a boot then looped a thumb in his pocket. “When I was a boy, about nine or ten, a little girl in my class went missing. Everyone - and I mean everyone - went out searching for that little girl. They even used hounds at one point but she was never found. Then a few decades later a seventy-year-old woman went missing. Food still in the pantry. Milk still in the fridge. Cash, credit cards, car keys, all in her purse. Poof, just gone. Never found her either. ” “Tragic. Really, it is. But how does that involve me? ” “Because both of those people went missing while they lived in this house. ” There was a hitch in my breath. Cement shoes. Hammering heart. Tunnel vision. The sheriff tossed me a sidelong glance. “And now we have Henry at this house one minute then poof, gone like the other two. So, do you believe in coincidences? ” “Oh, thats strange, sheriff. Ill admit. But I have no part in this. Can I give my buddies info now? ” My mind reeled as the sheriff returned to his cruiser with the names and numbers of the friends I were with the night before. He was soon followed by the other deputies that had been scouring through pasture and thickets for any trace of the missing custodian. I wanted to join the search - I really did - but despite my factual answers to the sheriff I believed he pinned me a suspect from the get-go. After a few beers to calm my nerves, I dialed my buddies one by one to explain about a possible phone call from authorities only for each to inform me they had already been contacted in the last ten minutes. Panic set in. What started as confusion had morphed into something much worse: I was a suspect in the disappearance of Henry, a beloved figure in our town. Also, there was something troubling me about the sheriffs anecdote. Not one, but two disappearances had a common thread and I was living in it. I doubt I blinked for the next hour during my online search for any evidence that could prop up what he had told me. That my home was cursed or haunted. That a construction of wood and metal and screws could instigate the disappearance of a human being. I clicked and read and bookmarked any pertinent information. As it turned out, or perhaps because he didnt know, the sheriff had understated the truth. My research informed me that my home, a ranch-style single story with a vaulted ceiling and two-car garage, had been built in 1964 by a palmy banker. He built it for his wife and family that eventually expanded to include four daughters. I came across a write-up that portrayed them as a wholesome group. Daughters who enjoyed ballet. A homemaker wife who could cook a fierce Thanksgiving turkey. A proud father who enjoyed barbecues and church services. But all that changed when he claimed his bedroom window flashed with celestial light one early morning and upon further inspection he discovered a hole had been burned in the roof. “Lightning, ” the article quoted what the banker said, “I thought it was lightning. ” The following week he left for a three-day business trip. When he returned, his wife and four daughters were gone. Authorities at the time dispelled the notion of murder or kidnapping (they blamed it on a fleeing wife who suffured through a furtive abusive relationship) and they never did any meaningful investigation to support alternative claims. The bankers body was found the day after the investigation was called off, hanging from a backyard oak. I found several articles dated a few years later about a young girl that went missing while her mother packed outdated Christmas decorations from the attic to be stored in the shed, going back and forth between the two for an hour until the joyous laughter of her daughter became an eerie silence. Gone. Taken right from under her nose by a pervert or some maniac. This was one of the stories the sheriff had told me. I read on, shocked at the words in the newspaper, quotes from grieving family members begging for a safe return that never occurred. Minutes later, I found an article about the elderly woman. The sheriff was not exaggerating: food still in the pantry, milk still in the fridge, cash and credit cards and car keys to an old Volvo were all found in her purse. Poof, the sheriff had said. No wonder the home was at such a low price when I purchased it. Unsolved mysteries tend to bring down real estate value. I remember the realtor giving me the spiel: never had a rodent problem, never had a leaky roof, never had a bug infestation, solid foundation, plenty of space; and it can be yours for such a low price, she told me; be a homeowner, come on, a millennial homeowner is a rarity these days. Her wily speech had worked. I felt stupid. Duped into the purchase of a cursed residence. Strangely, I didnt believe in the supernatural and had never personally seen a ghost or phantom or one of those floating orbs of light. To me, it was a way to energize tourism. Feast on peoples nightmares. But on that day I was caught up in something unusual. Its one thing to read about the history but now police were showing up to my home with guileful smirks. Prodding eyes that surveyed for evidence. Skepticism when I spoke. The nightmare was no longer in the past. It was later that day and the loud knocks made me wince. Two deputies stood on my porch, a pair of tall muscleheads that were obviously sent to intimidate. One more look around, they asked, if I would allow it. I had nothing to hide so their request was granted. This circuit around my home was much more in depth than the one around my property and as I followed them around like a lost puppy they upturned containers and leafed through my clothes and ransacked every cabinet. I was annoyed, sure, but felt I was helping the investigation, thinking when they realized I was uninvolved then they could focus their attention elsewhere. “Sir, were about done. Do you have a basement or attic? ” “Attic. ” “Mind if we-” “Go ahead, ” I said. “Be my guest. Let me know if the heating unit is coughing again. ” The attic ladder was unfolded from the ceiling and stabilized in the hallway. After lighting his Maglite, the bigger of the two deputies began his creaky climb into the dark void above. When the darkness swallowed him and the only sign of his location was the occasion flicker of light seen through the access opening, the second deputy planted a foot on a grooved rung and rubbed the bridge of his nose. There was a metallic rattle then a large wrench protruded from the opening, followed by the looming presence of the attic lawman. He called down to his partner. “Got a toolbox with Henrys name on it. Cuff him. ” In a blur of motion the officer near me whipped my arm behind my head in one swift movement. In the corner of my eye I saw him remove plastic restraints from his belt. I cringed in pain and shouted my innocence as I had already told the sheriff Henry had inspected my HVAC the night before but was blatantly ignored. Yet, in the commotion I heard a deep wallop from above. When my arm was released it wasnt because of my indignation. A horrific shriek blasted from the attic. The yell of a man in pain. An odd strobe effect was all I could see in the inky square above the ladder as the officers flashlight spun and twitched in the darkness above. Then all sound stopped. The officer beside me gazed up the ladder. “Jones! Jones, whats wrong? ” Silence. He turned to me but his mind was in deliberation. “Sir, I didnt do anything. ” “Shut up. Arms through here, now. Now! ” Panicked, the officer used the plastic, disposable cuff on my right wrist and looped the excess through a metal ladder hinge before fastening my left wrist. He raced upstairs to his friend. My shouts were ignored. My pleas lost in the frenzied mind of a spooked cop. The creak of the rungs moaned in agony against his weight but were barely audible against the beckoning calls to his lost brother-in-blue. He dipped the top of his head into the lightless loft then lifted his torch, spinning the beacon in a three-hundred and sixty degree angle. Once satisfied, he ascended the ladder. Darkness enveloped him. I tugged against the handcuffs but it was pointless, I was tethered to the hinge. “Oh my God! ” uttered a feeble voice from above. There was a thundering noise, footfall, then another scream of agonizing pain. Unable to believe what happened, I stood in stupid amazement at the featureless black square, waiting for the pair to materialize and joke about the size of a rat or coachroach. All a joke. A trick to play on the stupid, shackled suspect. My throat seized into itself as I waited, gaping at the nothing above my head. The muscleheads never appeared. The void of my attic seemed to swallow a pair of deputies right in front of my eyes and yet, I still didnt believe it. I jerked madly at my restraints, trying to jostle the ladder into a creaky surrender, but the screws held firm. It felt as if the frame of black was staring back at me, a window into oblivion. I started to weep. Frantic calls for help went unanswered until I heard a noise. Outside, a car door slammed. Before my head swiveled to the window my voice rose in a shrill pitch, begging for assistance. The front door was kicked in and the sheriff turned the corner, gun drawn. “What the hell is going on? Wheres Jones and Anderson? ” “Upstairs. ” Before he could set a worn boot on a rung I shouted. “No, dont. ” “What happened? ” “Something - I dont know - something is up there. Cut me loose. ” Uncertainty was swept away when he saw the terror in my face and picked up on the trembling in my voice. In a moment of judgement, he scratched under his chin and alternated with sights of me and the attics maw. He gave a quick shrug. His pocket knife released my hands from the link and I explained what happened as efficiently as possible. He took in a lungful of air and removed his Maglite. “Your house, your lead, ” the sheriff said as he thrust the flashlight to my chest. “Im not going, I dont know what-” “Sounds like my deputies were injured. For all I know youve set traps up there. You go first. ” He flicked his pistol a little and I started up the ladder, my new plastic bracelets scratching the grooved treads of each rung. By the time I was on the boundary of where the hallway light met the obscurity of the attic, I was shaking. “Hurry up. Those men have families, ” the sheriff called from behind. I plunged into the murky frontier and immediately cast every wall in light with rapid turns of the torch. When one side was clear I spun around to make another corner visible then another. I got a whiff of natural gas, the smelly mercaptan doing its job. The smell of rotten eggs. Sulfur. Hell. The sheriff was now on the third step of the ladder. “Well? ” “Nothing. ” “What? ” “Theres nothing. Its just an attic. ” A series of rafters ribbed the area above and struts rose from the attic floor to supportive beams, sending wicked shadows around the space with every turn of my wrist. Joists emerged out of fluffy pink stuff at random intervals but were otherwise covered by heaps of the rosy clouds scattered throughout the attic. Pads of the stuff overwhelmed almost every spot my flashlight landed. I found a bundle of galvanized pipes that flowed into the heating unit. The metal casing was flipped open and it emitted a tinny echo when I thumped it. I took a step deeper into the attic and my foot clanked against an old toolbox, the wrenches and pliers shuffling from the movement. The sheriff groaned his way up the ladder then joined me on the plywood board that flanked the ladder opening. He removed his cell phone and turned on the flashlight app. With both lights running at once, only small drifts of darkness hugged the corners, everything else was visible. “You son of a bitch. Was this some kind of trick? ” “I swear, sheriff. They came up here. Both of them. ” He balanced his way to a narrow strip of plywood, holding his phone at an angle to inspect the mounds of pink to his right. I took a step on an exposed joist and kept my balance with an overhead collar tie. “Careful. Dont fall through the ceiling, ” the sheriff warned. I looked around, amazed at the volume of vibrant color. “Whats all the pink stuff? ” “Insulation. Fiberglass insulation to be exact. Ive never seen so much installed before. Kind of an overkill. ” It looked so delicate. Like cotton candy. I reached for it. “Hey! Dont touch it or your hands will itch for hours. ” “Dont touch it? ” I asked, bending down to get a more solid look. “Sounds dangerous. ” “No, its perfectly safe if-” The narrow plank of wood gave way and the sheriff tumbled into the fluffy mass below. As I approached he mumbled a string of vulgarity and was busy rolling on his back like a upended turtle. His palm caught a joist and he began lifting himself, leveraging his weight with his knee. Then he let out a blood-curdling scream. He tossed his phone and began yelling for help, his arms groping and reaching out for me while the shine from his whirling phone strobed through the air. To correct the dimness (and my bewilderment) I pointed my flashlight to the ailing officer and watched as his attempts to lift onto a joist was hindered. He grasped the wooden support and strained to roll over. When he pivoted there was no longer cloth covering his back, but a viscous tar substance growing taunt against his bare skin. I thought he had dug his heel into the pillowy fluff to gain traction but upon a longer inspection witnessed the fluff engulf his boot, rolling over his lower leg like clouds in the wind. By the time I set the flashlight on the ground and balanced my way down the narrow lumber, half of his body was submerged under knolls of pink. My hand embraced his and after anchoring myself to a beam with the other arm, pulled the sheriff with all my might. He was coughing and sputtering blood, not yelling words per say but hoarse onamonapias of agony. One arm that had previously been embedded suddenly elevated into the open air but when I reached for it saw most of the skin was eaten away and the muscles were steaming and pulsing. He continued to rise out of the blushy lumps as I hauled him closer to freedom. Then the pink stuff pulled back. His hand was sucked out of my grasp. When the sheriff finished his plunge, his rotund face slipping beneath the swelling insulation, he was still and no longer calling out. I tiptoed along the beam and fetched my flashlight at the mouth of the opening before my descent. A faint, mechanical whirring noise caught my attention. The smell of natural gas grew strong again and gave me an idea. Before I could find out if the insulation was sentient enough to chase its prey, I raced down the ladder and folded it up. I stood on a chair and duct-taped the narrow slits of the opening and hinges then closed every ceiling register in my home. I duct-taped an ice pack around my thermostat then set the temperature to 90. Before I exited, I stuffed a lighter in my pocket. I went to the shed and collected a pair of five gallon gasoline jugs that were filled to the brim. My plan was to wait five hours before I incinterated my home but calls were streaming from the ownerless police cars in my driveway so I knew my time was limited. I waited an hour, then two. On the third hour I heard my name and address on the radio so I went to work. I spent nearly ten minutes dowsing the pine straw on my roof with the gasoline but saved enough to crudely fashion a molotov cocktail from a strip of cloth and empty beer bottle. I lit the cloth and tossed the flaming projectile onto my roof just as the wailing sirens became audible. The fire caught and incinerated the pine straw in an instant. Without warning a massive explosion obliterated half of my roof, shattering every window of my home and knocking down the east wall. Debris rained from above and I leapt under an oak tree to avoid injury. The fire took and ate its way through the attic, and ultimately my entire house. As the flames licked up the sides of my house and the glow of the blaze burned with an unparalleled magnificence, I was handcuffed (again, except with metal cuffs this time) and violently tossed into the back of a deputys cruiser. The officers watched the fire, reporting to the dispatcher about arson and homicide, begging for a firetruck as soon as possible. Looking back, Im not sure which was more strenuous, that day or the ordeal that followed. I was treated as a murderer until a vigilant search of the charred remains of my house was finalized. No bodies were found. Refusal to believe my story was common but I endured. After three years of court battles I am a free man. Too many inconsistencies, I later found out many jurors said. Not enough evidence or motive. The reason Im telling this story is simple. Last week, a man approached me in a diner and slid into the booth across from me. He was pale and twitchy, nervously eyeing out the window like he was being followed. He told me that he was serving in the Army National Guard several years ago when his unit was mobilized for a covert operation. Their job, he explained, was to cordon off a small quarantine zone. Keep anyone from entering. Simple. Routine. He leaned in close when he told me the quarantine zone was the spot where my house burned and the surrounding field. He was assigned the mission the day after everything transpired. Too bad it didnt belong to me anymore as the property had been eminent domained by the government and seized immediately after my arrest (I knew their excuse was bullshit. Nervously, the stranger said that scientists wearing hazmat suits began collecting wads of bright pink material and sequestering them to steel containers. Fellow soldiers in his National Guard unit joked they were protecting a cotton candy stand. He said in a wistful tone that his fellow soldiers werent joking anymore. When I asked him why he was telling me all this, he grimaced. Before I could slide out of the booth and leave the stranger, he clung onto my wrist. “Im trying to tell you, ” he said with a fearful quiver. “It got out. The pink stuff got out. It could be. anywhere. ”.
Just imagine how proud River Phoenix would be of his brother if he would see this... Damon became a doctor after turning into a human. This is a follow up to this R29 diary, which I wrote a little over a year ago. Since so much has changed since then, I thought it would be fun to write another one: Basic Info My occupation: Managing editor/Education (61, 000/year) T. 's occupation: Graduate student/STEM (35, 000/year. Assets and Debts Retirement Balance Me: 19, 000 in a Roth IRA that my dad had me open when I got my first job at 16 and I contributed more or less (usually less) through college, my first “real” job and freelancing. I also have a 401(k) that I rolled ~13, 000 into from the last job I had before freelancing. Current employer wont start matching for a few more months. T: Used part of his bonuses to max out both his Roth IRs and TSP for two years. He also has a few years of retirement points from his time in the military. Other Investments Me: I inherited 20, 000 when a very close family member passed suddenly during my senior year of college, some of which I used to travel and work abroad for a year after graduation (per her request) and I invested the remainder ( 12, 000) in a mutual fund. T: Received a little over 120, 000 in bonuses and incentives for his time in the military, a good chunk of which (after maxing out retirement accounts) is in various brokerage accounts, mutual funds and a few bonds. Home equity None, weve always rented. Our rent and utilities were covered by Ts housing allowance up until his contract ended last year. Were not sure where well move to after graduate school or if well ever settle in one place, so home ownership hasnt been something weve thought about seriously. Never say never though. Savings account balance ~38, 000 in liquid savings across various credit unions and HYSAs. We used to be really aggressive savers (between 3-5, 500 a month) since we wanted to have a solid cushion for when T. finished his military contract and started graduate school (and also to pay for a small wedding ceremony and a cross-country move. Lately weve been dipping into savings quite a bit to cover month to month spending. Checking account balance 1, 600 - My paycheck/T. s stipend is deposited into a savings account and we transfer to checking as needed (we always leave a 1, 500 buffer, just in case. Credit card debt 0 - We run pretty much everything possible through two credit cards and pay them off in full every month for the airline miles. Student loan debt Me: I had 28, 000 in federal loans from undergrad (also had a merit scholarship, work study and another part time job) which I finished paying off in 2017 (liberal arts degree. T: Had an ROTC scholarship and a few external grants for undergrad. His current Masters programs are completely paid for with fellowships and grants, and he receives an additional stipend for living expenses (science/engineering degrees. Anything else applicable T. and I got married “on paper” several years ago and didnt have a reception until last year. We paid for everything ourselves (it was small and cost less than 3, 000) but my parents insisted on gifting us the 10, 000 they had saved up for our wedding. We want to use that money for a family vacation in a year or two... Income Monthly take home Me: 3, 614 after taxes, 200 401(k) contribution and 90 transit pass T: 2, 800 after taxes, 110 for health insurance for the both of us (through the university) 30 subsidized transit pass (2, 300 from stipend, 500 from external grants) Side gig monthly take home Me: 150 average - Ive stopped looking for new freelance jobs, but the occasional one will trickle in or an old client will ask for something T: 500 average - T. will occasionally do consulting work within his field but its also very sporadic Other monthly income Since T. has started grad school we have regularly withdrawn from savings to supplement our income and cover any shortfalls (it doesnt always make me feel the best to see the numbers drop but the next two years are why we have that cushion... Recurring Expenses (monthly unless otherwise noted) Rent: 2, 180 for a one bedroom near T. s campus (includes pet fee. We also pay an additional 200 for parking Utilities/Internet: 70-90 for utilities, 40 for internet Cleaning service: 170 for two visits/month Cellphone: 120 for four lines (us, my mom, my sister) Car expenses: Paid cash for a used car a few years ago, which we share. Car insurance is 576/year (comes out to 48/month) and also includes renters insurance. Registration is about 120/year Pet expenses: 30/month pet insurance, 90/week dog walker Donations: 60 (25 library in hometown, 15 national park in home state, 10 local animal rescue in Boston, 5 each NPR and PBS stations in home state. The recurring donations I was seeing in MDs inspired me to talk with T. about supporting organizations that we have a connection to or whose work we value. Hoping to up these amounts or increase the number of organizations soon (not sure which would be more effective- what does the internet recommend. Subscriptions: iCloud Family (2. 99) Spotify Family (15) New York Times (15) candy subscription box (9. 99 - year-long present for T. s brother, ends in a few months) Patreon (15) The Atlantic (50/year) web hosting (20/year) Amazon Prime (120/year - which I would like to cancel but havent been able to convince T. to cut the cord yet) Between both sets of parents we have logins for Netflix/Hulu/HBO/etc. Day One 4:30 am - T. s alarm goes off and I burrow deeper into my duvet cocoon. He kisses the lump where my head should be and heads out for a run. T. has an ultramarathon in a few months and has jumped into training mode right in the middle of winter in Boston. I'll never understand the appeal, but I can respect it and the extra bed space. 6:00 am - I slide out of bed to find my coffee waiting for me in a travel mug and T. in full study mode at the kitchen table with the pup at his feet. I pull on several layers of oversized sweat pants until I look like the Michelin man and the pup, C. (she gets her own initial. and I roll out the door. I use the coffee as a hand warmer while we take a lap around the block and she does her business (check her emails, see how many meetings she has today, the usual dog stuff. 7:00am - Theres oatmeal with apples and cinnamon when we get back up to the apartment and it smells fantastic. and I have breakfast while talking about logistics for the the next few days. is doing two Masters programs simultaneously and my head spins just thinking of all the things hes crammed into his schedule. He is the energizer bunny in human form. loads the dishwasher and plays with the pup while I make myself presentable for outside. I remember my lunch, bid my goodbye and head out to the T station. 8:30am - I really enjoyed freelancing and everything that I learned from it, but when we moved across the country last year I knew that I would want to work in an office again to feel like I was making an effort to put roots down (and also to force me to get out of the house. It took a little while for me to find my current job and Ive only been here a few months, but so far Im loving my new position. When I get to the office I unpeel my outer layers and make some free office tea before sitting down and confronting my Monday morning inbox. is on campus and gets the first of what is going to be many many coffees. 2. 00 10:30am - Fought my way through a good number of emails and one particular thread that would honestly have just been faster had it been an in-person meeting. Another editor asks if Id like to take a walk and get coffee and I agree. She started at this job around the same time I did, and I am (lovingly) trying to push my inner loner introvert aside to try to make friends in Boston. We take the stairs down to the coffee kiosk in the lobby and I get a latte (3. She shows me pictures of her dog and we exchange numbers for future potential doggie get-together. gets another coffee and buys one for a classmate (4. 00. 7 12:30am - I get so caught up in brainstorming and discussing new ideas with some of my authors that my stomach lets out a very loud rumble to remind me where my priorities should be. I heat up the roast vegetables and Italian sausage I brought from home and scroll through social media while I eat. I decide to stretch my legs a bit and head up to another floor to refill my water bottle. gets lunch and another coffee. He rarely brings food from home during the week because its a lot to lug around campus all day. 12. 50 2:30 pm - I get off an hour and a half long conference call with my boss and colleagues at the office in DC. We're attending an out-of-state conference in a few weeks and I might have to fly first to DC and then to the conference from there, but I really hope not. I have some desk walnuts from my stash and go on another quick walk for water to avoid falling asleep at my desk. buys a six pack of running socks and some energy gels (35. 90) and yet another coffee (2. 37. 90 4:00 pm - Our company has a flexible in/out policy and I'm done for the day. I take the T home and listen to the American Girls podcast on the way. I'm super behind on episodes, but this podcast is everything that my nine-year-old, overall-wearing self didn't know she needed. C. and I load up in the car when I get home and head out to our volunteer site. We recently got certified as a volunteer therapy dog/handler team (something Ive been wanting to do for ages) and we go to an after school program once or twice a week. My heart melts and my ovaries explode (in the best way possible) every time I see C. interact with the kids. 6:30 pm - We stop to fill up on gas on our way home (37. 59) where T. is waiting with his specialty. grilled cheese and tomato soup. We have The It Crowd on as background noise while T. preps for tomorrow and I put the dishes away. He takes C. out for her nightly constitutional while I shower and will my skin to soak up all the dermatologist approved moisturizer I lovingly slather on it. Winter eczema is no joke. I know Im definitely not laughing. 59 9:00 pm - In bed with our noses buried in our respective reading. Cuddles and were fast asleep by 10. Total: 94. 99. Day Two 4:30 am - Todays a rest day but T. gets up with his alarm and goes into the living room to do some studying. 6:00 am - T. is gone by the time I get up since he has an early meeting in another town, but my coffee and a little note are waiting on the counter. I zip up and C. and I brace ourselves for the cold. After we run back upstairs, I make a breakfast bagel with spinach and turkey, but Im feeling uninspired for lunch so I dump a bunch of things together to make a “hot mess” salad. stops at Starbucks and gets a breakfast sandwich and coffee. 6. 98 8:30 am - I peel off my layers (anyone else always overheat while on public transport, no matter the season. make some tea, grab a maple bar that someone brought (yay. and settle in for email missives. 11:00 am - I refresh my tea and have a meeting with one of the graphic designers. We go over layouts and then spend a bit of time chatting. Like me, shes also a recent transplant originally from a warmer climate. I'm glad to know that the winters (supposedly) get easier. Back at my desk, I place a grocery pick up order for T. to get on his way back into the city (cold cuts, cheese, veggies, fruit, pasta, laundry detergent, snacks, bread, eggs, yogurt, peanut butter, etc. 89. 87 12:15 pm - I drizzle the hot mess salad with the olive oil and vinegar I keep in my desk for this purpose (thanks for the tip Bon Apetit) and thumb through my internet feeds while I eat. The dog walker texts us pictures of our girl out and about, super cute. I head up to refill my water bottle and get some blood moving before parking myself back in my seat. gets lunch and a cup of his drug of choice. 78 4:00 pm- Packing up and heading out. I get off one stop early and walk the rest of the way home because the sun is out momentarily and I intend to enjoy it. I change into yoga pants and do a Pilates video on YouTube, then organize the groceries T. picked up. makes a bunch of copies at the library. 1. 75 6:00 pm - Lately Ive been trying to expand my collection of fallback recipes and set myself a goal of making one recipe a week that I would drool over online but wouldnt ordinarily attempt to make myself. This week is NYTs green puttanesca and Im very pleased with how it turns out (team anchovy forever. I put on a 70s disco playlist while I cook and shake my groove thing. joins in when he gets home. Were both terrible, awkward dancers, but at least we can dance terribly and awkwardly together. 8:30 pm - T. loads the dishwasher and hunkers down to study while I take C. out and shower, which takes longer today because dry shampoo can only do so much for so long. If I could trade a large amount of money for the ability to snap my fingers and have my hair dry and cowlick free in an instant, I would do it in a heartbeat. Until then I will be handcuffed to this hair dryer. I crawl in bed and read for a bit before falling asleep, and T. comes in a bit later. Total: 111. 38. Day Three 4:30 am - T. gets up to go for a run and I do my part by rolling over and taking up most of the bed. 6:20 am - I sleep in a bit because T. is on pup duty this morning. I make oatmeal with blueberries while I sip the coffee he left on the counter and we have breakfast together when they get back. has a seminar and a networking event tonight so he won't be back until late. We get ready for our days and I pack up the extra puttanesca and a tangerine for lunch. I listen to an episode of the Write or Die podcast on the way to work. 8:30 am - I treat myself to a caramel cappuccino from the kiosk in the lobby (4) and run into the coworker I had coffee with the other day. We chat and head up to the office together. I settle in to watch some videos related to the topic of our current project. also treats himself to coffee (2. 6 10:00 am - My best friend from college is in town on business next week and has arranged to stay an extra day. He's proposed going to go to a drag brunch so I do some research and find one that looks fantastic. has a running event that morning so I only get two tickets (60. I do a lap around the office between responding to emails and taking notes on the videos. 60 12:30 pm - I love when food tastes even better the day after and the puttanesca doesn't disappoint. The coworker from earlier and I have lunch together in the kitchen so no mindless social media scrolling today. I go with her down to the coffee kiosk but don't feel like getting anything myself. is at home for lunch today and places an order for dog food, treats, very important poop bags, and a new toy for C. because he cant help himself. 67. 90 4:40 pm - I end up staying later than planned because a meeting (which should have been an email) runs long. Oh well. I stop at the library before heading home to browse and pick up a few books ( Nine Pints, Love Lettering, The Widows of Malabar Hill, On the Clock. I don't know if I'll ever be able to fully put into words how much I love (love, love) libraries, especially being able to visit them while traveling. I think they say a lot about a place and its community. 5:30 pm - I do another Youtube workout video and C. joins me in downward dog. She is way more flexible than I am. Afterwards, I curl up on the couch with my laptop and work on personal writing projects, including looking over a piece for my writer's group tomorrow. I still have my freelance website and portfolio up, but between the cross-country move and the new job I've stopped actively looking for gigs. The occasional one trickles in from time to time but the income isn't much. is at the networking happy hour and buys two beers. 11 7:30 pm - Dinner is cobbled together from the bits and pieces that are already in the fridge: the rest of the sausages and roasted vegetables, a few slices of cheese, and an apple. I get a call from a friend from home; another good friend tripped on the stairs in her (very old) building and broke her nose and damaged her top row of teeth. Our friend is working part time while finishing undergrad part time and her insurance has a super high deductible. My friend and I both send her 100 to help defray the ambulance and ER costs. It's not much but hopefully it'll help somewhat. I message our friend's boyfriend and he says that theres a possibility that the stairs were not up to code (too high and too narrow. There's a chance that management will help pay for her medical bills but it's probably a long shot. Our friend is ok, but I'm still upset and wish there was more I could do (short of overhauling the whole system so she doesnt have to worry about the cost, uuugggh. 100 9:30 pm - I take C. down for a quick walk, shower, make some sleepytime tea to help me relax and climb into bed with one of my new library books ( Nine Pints. I read Bad Blood a few months ago and was surprised to find myself fascinated by the topic. Highly recommend both. gets home and we catch each other up on our days. I can't seem to unwind and we put on vintage The Office episodes while he rubs my back to help me fall asleep. Works like a charm. Total: 244. 90. Day Four 4:30 am - T. gets up to study like the disciplined human he is. I snuggle up for more delicious sleep. 6:00 am - Wake up to a ton of messages and updates about last night. My friend is out of the ER and doing alright at home, which is whats important. Im dragging a bit this morning but brighten up after seeing T. and C. and having a sip of coffee. and I head outside and she checks her emails and does other business (sends invoices maybe? I definitely dont miss that part about freelancing. has whipped up scrambled eggs and toast, and we eat them completely drenched in hot sauce (is it possible to buy stock in Valentina? I should check. I get my things ready for work, stock up on desk snacks since Im running low, and listen to some of Montreal on the T to put some pep in my step. 12:00 pm - The morning has basically been one big game of email whack-a-mole right from the get go, and I finally have a breather to stretch my legs and make some office tea. I decide to take lunch already and get a falafel plate (8. 50) from one of the food trucks down the street. Yum. bought a coffee a few hours earlier (2) and he buys lunch and another coffee (10. 30. 20. 80 2:15 pm - My energy is flagging. I buy M&Ms from the vending machine and mix them with the walnuts and cranberries I brought earlier to trick myself into pushing through the next few hours. 1 4:00 pm - Done! I usually work from home on Fridays and make sure to pack up my work laptop and the notes I need. I could work 100% remotely, but after freelancing I like the structure of coming into the office. Makes me feel like Im in a millennial reboot of Dilbert. I drop everything off at home, pick up my personal laptop, play with C. for a bit, and head out again to meet my writing group at a cafe. I get a London Fog. 4 6:00 pm - Im still finding my feet with this new group, but they are super encouraging and supportive, and the weekly meetings are a great way to motivate myself to actually write for myself instead of pushing it on the back burner. The cafe is on T. s way home and we walk the rest of the way together. Neither of us feels like cooking or digging through the freezer tonight, so pizza it is! T. calls in our order (pepperoni, black olives, red onion and spinach) and goes to get it while I queue up the new season of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel (no spoilers, just going to say that I wish we had just stuck to the wonderfulness that was the first season but now we're here and we're committed. We descend on the pizza like vultures. 22. 40 8:30 pm - We are stuffed, happy and tired. takes C. out and I get rid of the evidence that a pizza massacre ever occurred. I shower and crawl into bed, checking whats up on social media and falling down a cookie decorating video rabbit hole on Instagram. stays up to study and I dont wake up when he finally gets to bed. Total: 48. 20. Day Five 6:30 am - No 4am alarm! Its a sleep in day for both of us but C. didnt get the memo. We wake up to her little wet nose in our faces, probably checking to see if were still breathing. I take her down while T. makes coffee and peanut butter banana toast for breakfast. Im still too full from last night, but T. the bottomless pit has no such problem. I boot up my work laptop and log in early. Looks like everyone else working from home today had the same idea. gets his things together and heads to campus. 10:00 am - I take a break from back-and-forth edits to make another coffee and have some yogurt with granola. The dog food and treats T. bought earlier in the week are delivered, and C. and I take a break to play with her new toy: an octopus that is probably going to lose most of its legs within the week. gets coffee. 00 12:30 pm - There isnt much movement in Slack and I decide to work through what would usually be my lunch break so that I can end even earlier (aka be online in case something comes up, but really just be working on the Friday NYT crossword and lurking on my usual discussion boards. I have a tangerine and call that lunch since Im still not very hungry. The dog walker comes by to take C. out and we chat for a bit about the semester and her classes. I venmo her for this week (90, included in expenses above. has an off-campus lunch meeting. 17. 70 2:30 pm - Quitting time! I close out by writing a to-do list for next week and triumphantly shut the laptop. I put on another YouTube workout and can really feel the burn this time. comes home and we become couch zombies for a bit to switch into weekend mode. Im suddenly capital-H hungry and make a turkey and cheese sandwich for second lunch. 4:00 pm - Two of T. s classmates and their significant others are coming over for a drink before we meet up with a larger group from (one of) his programs. We rock-paper-scissors to see who tidies up and who goes out to get snacks. lets the Roomba loose and attempts to organize his nest of papers and I bundle up to go to the grocery store. Im not sure what these people drink so I grab a bottle of white and a few types of beer to cover my bases, as well as kettle chips and cheddar popcorn. 21. 02 6:30 pm - T. and I shower and both us and the apartment are as tidy as were going to get. Im not the best in groups, especially if I dont know anyone (but if you want a one on one, Im your gal) so Im kind of nervous when they first come over. s classmates and their partners are very nice and easy going, which helps me get over my nervousness quickly. A glass of wine (or two) also never hurt. C., however, is in her element and volunteers as chip crumb expert. 8:30 pm - Someone calls an Uber (T. venmos them 10 later for our portion) and we meet up with others from the program. braves the crush at the bar to get a beer and a gin and ginger ale for me (which ends up going straight to my head) and we end up splitting an order of fries and chicken tenders (26. 90. The conversation quickly turns technical and I end up talking with one of the partners who was at our place earlier. Hes also very much out of his element and we bond over our mutual social anxiety. 36. 90 10:30 pm - The group is moving to another bar but T. and I are ready to go home. We say our goodbyes and get an Uber (16. 88. outside and buys me a bag of Swedish Fish at the corner store (1. 50) which I happily and slightly tipsily eat in bed while we play 30 Rock roulette and watch random episodes. 18. 38 Total: 96. 00. Day Six 6:30 am - I didnt set an alarm but my internal one helpfully wakes me up at 6:30 anyway. s did the same to him, but at 5:30, so thank goodness for small mercies. We have coffee and I work on the Saturday crossword (I wouldnt survive five minutes without autocheck. I get about halfway done before I start getting ready for our weekly breakfast date (yoga pants with less dog fuzz, actually brushing my hair before throwing it in a bun. 8:30 am - We head to a place in the neighborhood. Its still early enough that its not overrun with hungover undergrads so theres barely a wait. We each get drip coffee and breakfast burritos, which are heavenly. Both T. and I are naturally early risers and figuring out that both of us preferred having a standing breakfast date instead of a feeling obligated to limit dates to dinner (when were both exhausted and just want to be cuddled up in bed) was a major turning point in our relationship. Not having to deal with zero-contact deployments anymore has also helped a ton (funny how that works. 30 12:00 pm - T. putters around and studies a bit at home before heading out on his long run of the week (a casual 27 couch potato in me has no words. The weather is nice today and C. and I take a longer walk than usual while listening to a book podcast ( Sentimental Garbage, I could listen to her Irish accent all day. 1:30 pm - I'm meeting up with a girl that I matched with on Bumble BFF a few weeks ago (do you match with BFFs? I never know which verb to use. We got coffee before the holidays and I think we clicked, but with everything being crazy we havent seen each other since even though weve texted a fair bit. I put more effort into getting dressed for this date than the one I had with my husband (actual non-yoga pants, a cute sweater. We meet at a coffee shop and Im practically vibrating from all the coffee Ive already had today, so I get an Earl Grey tea and a blueberry scone (5. 60. The conversation is a bit stilted at first but we warm up quickly. buys a bottle of water out on his run (1. 07. 67 3:30 pm - We leave the coffee shop and wander in and out of a few stores but neither of us are looking for anything in particular. I see an enormous and criminally expensive candle in Anthropologie that I really like. Its not something I would ordinarily buy, but I still have an Anthro gift card from a Christmas gift I had to return (the thought was in the right place, but the size and style were very off. I pay the difference. 3. 78 5:00 pm - The girl and I part ways and I take the T home. I think we had a good time, but trying to make new friends in a new city is exhausting and takes up a lot of mental energy. is studying when I get back. I take a shower, settle into comfy clothes and decide to recharge my introvert batteries by starting a puzzle and listening to podcasts. The American Girls and I have a grand ole time. 7:00 pm - T. takes a study break to make spaghetti and a spinach side salad, and I am fully on board this carbo-load train. He retreats back into his book fort after dinner, where he'll probably be for a while. I load and run the dishwasher, take C. out for her nighttime walkabout, shower, and return to the puzzle. I make some sleepytime tea, bring a mug to T., and sort through puzzle pieces until my eyes cross. I read in bed for a while ( Love Lettering - I'm in love with Kate Clayborn and her characters and her writing style) before falling asleep around 10, and T. comes in a bit later. Total: 40. 45. Day Seven 6:00 am - C. jumps into bed to snuggle with us, which almost never happens (she's very loving, but prefers to keep her distance) so it must really be cold today. We enjoy the cuddles for as long as possible until she starts getting restless with how boring we're being. takes her out and I make coffee and manage to fit a few pieces of the puzzle together before they get back. We work on the puzzle together for a while before T. makes peanut butter toast and settles in to study for a few hours. I eventually have some yogurt and granola for breakfast and play with C. and her new toy for a while (the octopus is still eight-legged but time will tell. 10:30 am - T. emerges to make another pot of coffee. I agree to another cup and he attempts to explain what he's studying to help work out the problem sets. Not going to lie, my eyes glaze over a bit with all of the technical theory, but all he really needs is a sounding board to talk them through out loud. is usually his first choice but she's currently taking a very important nap, so I'm the fallback. He eventually goes on a short run to stretch his legs and I sort through laundry for him to start when he gets back. The light in this building's basement laundry room won't stop flickering ominously and I have consumed enough true crime media to know that I don't want to become the subject of Netflix's next hit docuseries. 12:30 pm - C. and I go for a walk and I can feel my cheeks become the picture of health from all this crisp New England winter air. is doing a post-run stretching video when we get back and I join in. He takes the laundry down to start a few loads (with the dryer it comes out to 6. 25 on a pre-paid laundry card we loaded 50 on to last week) and I warm up leftover spaghetti for lunch. has a peanut butter sandwich, milk, and bananas for dessert. 3:30 pm - I wake up from an unexpected but not unwelcome post-lunch couch nap. I've been listening to The Happiness Lab podcast (from a recommendation in this subreddit. and Im finally caught up on episodes. I decide to sign up for the online course (free, since I dont need a certificate) and go through the videos for weeks 1 and 2. switched the laundry over while I was napping and we fold and put the piles away. I spend some time reading articles online and looking for a recipe to try this week. Maybe Ill attempt Italian wedding soup. 6:30 pm - T. is still studying and Im starting to get hungry. I make a pot of rice and fix us rice bowls with canned tuna, edamame, and quick pickled vegetables. I leave his in the fridge for later. s little sister FaceTimes to say hi to C., and T. comes out for a dinner break and to chat for a bit. 8:30 pm - I make some more progress on the puzzle and decide to call it a night. has also decided that hes had enough studying and we watch some House Hunters to unwind. He gets even more vocal than I do whenever the topic of entertainment space comes up (dont get him started on carpets or paint colors. out while I cobble together something vaguely resembling a lunch to bring tomorrow and take a shower. We read in bed before cuddling and falling asleep. Total: 0. Food + Drink: 267. 22 Clothes + Beauty: 39. 68 (sticking the running socks/energy gels and candle in here) Transport: 64. 47 Entertainment: 60 Other: 101. 75 Weekly Total: 635. 92. Reflection: I'd say this was a pretty normal week for us, especially in terms of food spending. Since T. has been back our spending has skyrocketed, partly because there are two of us again (and having him at home is pretty much like trying to feed half a football team) and partly because we've been "celebrating" not having to deal with deployments anymore by not denying ourselves little treats or indulgences (especially T., ultramarathons are not cheap. We use a zero-based budgeting Excel to keep track of everything and it's interesting to see how our spending has evolved over the last year (even though lately a lot of our spending has been supplemented with savings. Also just wanted to say that I loved all of the thoughtful comments on the last MD. and the pup says hi (so does T.
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Wait Im Confused? Iz She A Dawg? Lmao Cause That One Dude Was Callin Her Like A Dawg HAHA
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