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And for those people who have access to mobility devices but might benefit from a second chair they can abuse without risking expensive damage…

Erik Kondo has made a website, Open Source Innovations, that details plans for DIY wheelchairs. These wheelchairs can be made from common materials like wood, plastic, and pvc. They are lightweight and can be custom fit to the user allowing from the same degree of movement you would get from a custom chair. And they are durable and easily repairable. (he has been stress testing his latest design by dropping it down stairs, dropping it out of a car, launching it across a driveway, and throwing it off a deck). Its 12lbs and I think he said its was in the $200 ish range for parts.

So, your landlord/parents/home inspector/favorite movie star is dropping by, and your place is a disaster. You don’t have much time to clean it up. You’re in emergency mode. Let’s get started.

Don’t panic. Panic leads to fear, fear leads to procrastination, procrastination leads to the dark side. You can do this, but you have to stay calm.

Unlike maintenance cleaning, we’re not looking to completely unfuck one space at a time. Instead, we want to decrease the overall mess in stages, spread evenly across the whole area that we’re concerned about. If you think your home is at Level 10 filth, we want to bring the whole thing down to a Level 9, and then down from there. One really clean spot in an otherwise messy home is not going to be helpful here.

Get prepared. You’ll want to shut the computer down (or turn the modem off if you need your computer to play music). Trust me. Get your music going. Gather up trash bags, your vacuum and mop, some rags or paper towel, sponges, and other cleaning supplies. Use what you have on hand. Don’t get distracted running to the store and spending an hour browsing cleaning supplies. A multi-purpose cleaning concentrate or a jug of vinegar will be just fine.

Breaks are very important. Depending on your time constraints, work in 20/10s (20 minutes working, 10-minute break) or 45/15s. But take breaks because otherwise you’re marathoning, and marathon cleaning is no one’s friend. Keep hydrated, don’t forget to eat, and check in with yourself frequently to make sure you’re physically doing OK.

Make your bed. This will be your home base if you get overwhelmed or need somewhere clear to take a break.

Start with the garbage. Going from room to room, throw out anything that is obvious trash. Once you fill a bag, take it out. Repeat as many times as necessary.

Move on to dishes. Gather the dishes from all over your house and bring them to the kitchen. If you can, start them soaking in a sink of hot, soapy water or start loading the dishwasher. After the dishes are all in one place, spend one 20/10 getting started getting them under control.

Now it’s time for your flat surfaces. Countertops, tables, dresser tops, etc. Clear them off and wipe them down. Don’t get distracted in too much sorting and organizing. We’re in crisis mode here. There will be time to get in-depth once this is all done. The same applies to cabinets and closets. Unless you have reason to believe people will be opening closed doors, leave these alone for now.

Attack the floordrobe and shoe pile. Get your clothes either put away or in the hamper. Start a load of laundry if you need to, but keep in mind that laundry and dishes have three steps: wash, dry, and put it away, goddammit!

Get random stuff up off the floors. If something is trash-worthy, throw it away now rather than just move it around a bunch of times. Otherwise, put stuff where it belongs.

Take another 20/10 or 45/15 to catch up on more dishes, if needed.

Head into the bathroom. Pour some cleaner in the toilet bowl, fill the sink with hot water and cleaner, and either spray the tub and shower with cleaner, or fill the tub up with some hot water and add cleaner and let it soak. Put everything away that’s out and shouldn’t be, clean the mirror, counters, and toilet seat. Sweep or dry mop the floor. Wipe down the sink and tub/shower, and give the toilet bowl a scrub. Mop the floor.

Sweep and mop the kitchen floor.

Vacuum everything you can, and sweep everything you can’t.

Walk outside of your house (don’t lock yourself out, please). Walk back in and see what catches your eye first. Go and deal with that.

If you’re being inspected or your landlord is coming in for repairs, spend time on whatever area they’ll be focusing on.

Give the whole place one more once-over and pay attention to anything you’ve missed so far.

It’s an old trick, but if your place is a little funky-smelling, put a pan of water on the stove on low heat and add some citrus or cinnamon or vanilla. Don’t leave it unattended or forget about it.

Take a shower, put on something clean, and eat something.

You can do this. It’s overwhelming, yes, but it is not impossible. You just need to do it. You have a list. You have directions. You have a whole bunch of Internet strangers who have been there before and who are cheering you on. You can do this, but you need to get started.

"Do not call me after 9" is not a boundary. I can't control someone else's actions

Me, at the time, a 19yo with very little understanding of the law: “I mean…was it?”

Fandom Friend, who was a 40-something lawyer: “I’ll tell you the same thing I told everyone in that bar. No one was violating anyone’s free speech. Bitch was just being rude, and worse, obnoxious about it. You ever act like that in public, be aware you’re not changing anyone’s opinion. You’re just giving them a brand new opinion about you.”

It was a very formative conversation in my young adulthood.

Continuation of this post.

Danny led them further into the dark, musty manor, into an area without windows where they had to pull out flashlights and a spell to fight the gloom. Danny reached into the wall and pulled something, thankfully the mechanism was fully manual and the lack of electricity didn't stop the hidden door from creaking slowly open.

The Rodeo Rule: you only have to do it for the first time once.

The Rohan Rule: if you are at a social function full of new people and you want to be liked, find someone doing important work like setup or food prep and offer to help.

The Tutorial Mode Rule: to navigate an unfamiliar situation where you fear you will mess up an interaction, preface the interaction by mentioning that you've never done this before, and let them know if you have a specific concern or question.

The Rocket Science Rule: most new things you want to try seem very complicated but are simple when taken step by step.

The [X] Will Remember That Rule: if you need to make small talk with the same person on a regular basis, try to save one fact or current event in their life from a given conversation and bring it up next time you talk.

2) any vegetable is better than no vegetable

-ancient roman posca: water, red or white wine vinegar, honey, salt, herbs (coriander, mint, thyme)

-switchel: water, ginger, vinegar, sweetener, lemon, salt

-ayran: yogurt, water, salt, mint

-sees the reports of the heatwave in Europe-

Google Trusted Contacts.

that’s it, that’s the answer.

what this does is allow you to set up a list of people who are able to request your location. when they do so, you have five minutes to either refuse or grant the request. if you don’t respond within five minutes, the request is automatically accepted, in case you’re hurt or otherwise unable to get to your phone. your trusted contacts can also see how recently you used your device.

in other words: if someone genuinely wants to know if you’re okay, they can check the app and see that you’ve used your phone five minutes ago, and that can be the end of it. if they want to be doubly sure, or it says you haven’t used your phone recently, they can request your location. if you want them to know where you are, or you can’t answer, they’ll have your exact location within five minutes. if you don’t want them to know where you are, you click deny, and they still see that you got the request and responded to it, meaning, again, they know you’re okay. this is safety with accountability: you can’t track someone’s location without their consent unless they fail to respond to the notification, and you can’t do it without them knowing about it.

if you want to track a friend or loved one for genuine safety reasons, set this up. it gives you all the access you need if your concern is actually for the other person’s well-being, rather than a desire for control. (it’s not out for iOS yet, but Google says that’s coming soon).

a world where parents are an order of magnitude more dangerous to children than “adults grooming them on the internet”, and giving parents unchecked powers of surveillance is for that reason alone more likely to put kids at risk than to keep them safe.

I live in this world:

a world where the psychologically debilitating effects of surveillance are well-established and well-known, yet adults do everything in their power to invade young people’s privacy and then ask dumbass questions like “why are kids so anxious?” and come up with answers like “it’s probably because of selfies”

I live in this world:

a world where invasion of privacy is recognized as an integral part of emotional abuse, but parents still get away with it because “they’re just doing it to keep them safe uwu~”, despite the fact that this is the same line the goddamn NSA gives us and most of us don’t take that sack of lies from them.

And this forces you to decide whether your autonomy matters to you more than the approval of the group - while they'll still act like you're on thin ice either way, if you give in at this point they know you're theirs forever, because now they've established a foothold, you've shown a moral weakness, which they will brand you with so it can be used against you in the future ("hey RICE-addict here doesn't want help break into the city records office") to force you to double-down and isolate you further.

AKA "Officer Dick Grayson finds out he has a 13-year old son. It's too bad Dick only finds out because the coroner's office calls him." DPxDC Prompt idea! (TW: Mentions of child death. Danny is only half-dead, don't worry.)

John Doe: Approximately 13 years of age, black hair, blue eyes, 5'1, relation to Richard John Grayson. Cause of death unknown.

Dick never expected to be a father, much less... like this. The boy is so small, close to Damian's physique, but seemingly so much more fragile where he's laid out on the metal gurney. The medical examiner graciously allowed Dick a few moments alone in the morgue with his boy. And now that Dick's looking, he can see the resemblance. Curly black hair, thick eyebrows, that curved nose. Dick can see bits of his mother, his father, himself, in this kid. There's a little divot in his cheek that Dick is sure would've been a dimple if the kid smiled wide enough, just like his own.

The kid, John - and God, that's his Dad's name, too - is wearing the same street clothes he was brought in with. A well-worn grey hoodie, baggy jeans, and sneakers. He didn't even have anything with him - no phone, wallet, keys, nothing to identify him other than the DNA results which matched him to Dick.

Gently, Dick brushes the tangle of curls away from John's face.

"Spoczywaj w pokoju." His voice is tight with grief. Being a police officer in Bludhaven means he's seen his share of violence, being Nightwing even more so, but the death of a kid is hard to swallow. But this isn't just any kid. This is his kid. His kid, who Dick should've been there for. First steps, first words, first everything. (It's like Jason all over again. Dick wasn't good enough. He didn't know, didn't save him, couldn't-)

"Um. This is awkward."

Dick jerks back, accidentally slamming his knee against the leg of the gurney while his foot skids against the floor, a loud squeaking sound overlapping with Dick's own muffled cursing. Suddenly, Dick's on the floor looking up at the definitely-not-dead-kid sitting up on the gurney. He's sheepishly thumbing at the strand of hair Dick had pushed away from his face earlier. There's a pinkish flush tinging his cheeks and ears. So different, so alive, compared to the rigor mortis-blue color he was moments ago.

"What... How? You-," He's trying to piece together what the hell is happening while the kid - his kid - swings his legs over the gurney. He winces and stretches out his legs as if... stiff. (He was more than just stiff, the kid was dead. The medical examiner said he had no pulse, no brain activity, was likely dead for hours before being found. So how..?)

"Yeah, sorry. Sometimes, I-um. Sleep really hard? Uh. I'm Danny. Can I leave... or...?"

"Officer Grayson." Dick's muscle memory, his Robin training, takes over and the everything (grief, self-hatred, rage, devastation) compartmentalizes in his brain. "You were documented as deceased on site. We'll need to get you checked out at the ED and fill out some paperwork. We need to contact your... your parents."

Do you know? Dick desperately wants to say, do you know I'm your parent? Your dad? Another, angrier part of him wants to know just who Jo-Danny's guardians are so he can rip into them for letting their kid die. Because now that the emotions are tucked away, repressed deep down, Dick can reason Danny is probably a meta of some kind. Maybe with some sort of super-healing ability.

Except Danny looks more panicked by this, hands coming up as if to placate Dick. And then he's pointing behind Dick with a dramatic gasp. Dick whips around, hand automatically going to his shoulder where his escrima sticks usually are, only to see... nothing. He turns back around... only to see nothing. Danny's gone. His son-.