Hi guys! I’m on a weight loss journey and I’ve lost 20 lbs so far. I’m a 4’11 18 y/o girl and I’m currently 180 lbs. After years of eating a ton of food with no regard for how many calories I was intaking, I finally taught myself how to eat differently. All of my naturally eat “intuitively” which makes them skinny without exercising. I started adopting their habits while loosely counting calories and it’s made such a difference. Here are some tips:

1. Eat slowly and chew your food. Eat with smaller silverware and on smaller plates.
2. Either eat all of a small serving or half of a large serving. Eat the entire meal you cooked and portioned out for yourself but eat half of the pasta dinner at Olive Garden. Save the rest as leftovers.
3. Eat fast food, but eat it smartly. You can eat fast food everyday if you wanted to and still lose weight. The important thing is what you order. A Chick-fil-A chicken sandwich and waffle fries is 880 calories alone and an extra 110 with Chick-fil-A sauce. You can eat the entire meal and eat less later, eat half of it, replace the fries with something that has less calories, or order something else entirely. You just need to budget your calories wisely so that you’re still in a calorie deficit by the end of the day.
4. Don’t put yourself into the position to eat more. Microwave half the can of soup, save the rest for later. By halving your portion, you’ll eat it slower to savor the smaller portion, and you might end up eating less. If half of the can of soup isn’t enough, wait a little bit to see if you still want more. If you do, have the rest. Basically, start with a smaller portion and give yourself more if you want more.
5. Write down what you eat. This might not work for everyone, but in my personal experience, keeping a food diary on my phone is a good way to remember what I eat and has helped me keep track of how many calories I’m eating.
6. Drink water and get enough sleep! I know that these are really obvious tips but I had to include them. Drinking a gallon of water and getting the sleep my body needs has helped me lose weight.
7. Eat for health and nutrition too, not just to eat. It’s okay to eat a snack just to have a snack, and it’s okay to have a meal you like because it’s a meal you like. But remember that food isn’t just for entertainment and it’s important to nourish our bodies as well. Try to incorporate fruits and veggies that you like into your diet and eating healthy meals if you can. Getting the right nutrients helps a lot.

These are all of the things I’ve stated doing that helped me get to the weight I am now. My goal weight is 120, so I still have a long way to go, but I see progress. My wrists are significantly smaller, I can see my collarbones sometimes, my face has more shape, my back is slimmer, and my back dimples are starting to show again. I’m finally making progress!! For the first time in forever, the light at the end of the tunnel feels reachable. I hope my advice helps you and that you reach your goal weight :) Feel free to share your own journey and weight loss advice in the comments.

Hi guys! I’m on a weight loss journey and I’ve lost 20 lbs so far. I’m a 4’11 18 y/o girl and I’m currently 180 lbs. After years of eating a ton of food with no regard for how many calories I was intaking, I finally taught myself how to eat differently. All of my naturally eat “intuitively” which makes them skinny without exercising. I started adopting their habits while loosely counting calories and it’s made such a difference. Here are some tips:

1. Eat slowly and chew your food. Eat with smaller silverware and on smaller plates.
2. Either eat all of a small serving or half of a large serving. Eat the entire meal you cooked and portioned out for yourself but eat half of the pasta dinner at Olive Garden. Save the rest as leftovers.
3. Eat fast food, but eat it smartly. You can eat fast food everyday if you wanted to and still lose weight. The important thing is what you order. A Chick-fil-A chicken sandwich and waffle fries is 880 calories alone and an extra 110 with Chick-fil-A sauce. You can eat the entire meal and eat less later, eat half of it, replace the fries with something that has less calories, or order something else entirely. You just need to budget your calories wisely so that you’re still in a calorie deficit by the end of the day.
4. Don’t put yourself into the position to eat more. Microwave half the can of soup, save the rest for later. By halving your portion, you’ll eat it slower to savor the smaller portion, and you might end up eating less. If half of the can of soup isn’t enough, wait a little bit to see if you still want more. If you do, have the rest. Basically, start with a smaller portion and give yourself more if you want more.
5. Write down what you eat. This might not work for everyone, but in my personal experience, keeping a food diary on my phone is a good way to remember what I eat and has helped me keep track of how many calories I’m eating.
6. Drink water and get enough sleep! I know that these are really obvious tips but I had to include them. Drinking a gallon of water and getting the sleep my body needs has helped me lose weight.
7. Eat for health and nutrition too, not just to eat. It’s okay to eat a snack just to have a snack, and it’s okay to have a meal you like because it’s a meal you like. But remember that food isn’t just for entertainment and it’s important to nourish our bodies as well. Try to incorporate fruits and veggies that you like into your diet and eating healthy meals if you can. Getting the right nutrients helps a lot.

These are all of the things I’ve stated doing that helped me get to the weight I am now. My goal weight is 120, so I still have a long way to go, but I see progress. My wrists are significantly smaller, I can see my collarbones sometimes, my face has more shape, my back is slimmer, and my back dimples are starting to show again. I’m finally making progress!! For the first time in forever, the light at the end of the tunnel feels reachable. I hope my advice helps you and that you reach your goal weight :) Feel free to share your own journey and weight loss advice in the comments.

Before I start, I should note that each husband was a high value guy. They each made a lot of money, and were generally pretty nice people (aside from the last one). She also dated a lot of very nice, high value men. This is how she landed these guys, and then lost them.
​

1. Marry a man because you love him, not because he can fund your life. She never married a man that she really loved, it was about what they could give her. Money, status, etc. Don't marry a man you don't love completely and wholly just because he checks all of your boxes. It's shallow, selfish, and cruel to the man who thought you were in it for the right reasons. Of course a man should provide, but he does not exist purely to buy you stuff. They should be your partner in crime, your lover, your confidant, and your best friend.
2. Men really value a playful, open spirit... to an extent. My mom was not the type to turn heads when she walked down the street, but she had her pick of the pack because everyone wanted a piece of her personality. She was the type who could talk to anyone, was down to do anything, willing to try everything, loved a good prank, and knew how to make people laugh. This was her main draw and she knew it. Even when her looks started to fade, this quality kept her young. The downside to this was that she couldn't turn it off. She was incessantly bored and impossible to entertain 24/7. There has to be a line drawn, and you have to be able to settle down, or else your life is going to be pure chaos.
3. Men also really value the ability to speak concisely, intelligently, and with class. They need you to be able to have a decent conversation not only with them, but with their colleagues, family, friends, maybe even their boss at a company party, If you can't carry an interesting, engaging, intelligent conversation with just about anyone, that's gonna be an issue. He picked you, and so who you are and how you act says something about him and his judgement.
4. Admit your faults and gracefully accept criticism. The inability to do this is a really common trait these days, and it kills relationships. If you go into a marriage (or any relationship at all) thinking that it's you against him, that you're right and he's wrong, that he's dumb and you're smart..... That will kill your relationship in it's tracks. It sets up a sense of superiority. You end up looking down on him, and he will feel that lack of respect to his core.
5. Don't allow life to take away your softness. My mother and I both had hard lives as children, and that translated to being very brittle, emotionally unavailable people in adulthood. It's easy to fall into this hole, and I sat with her in it until I got married and realized that it was only pushing my husband away from me. Softness translates into being malleable. You should be able to adapt to anything and form yourself into who or what you need to be in this or that situation, while maintaining that light core.
6. Take care of yourself, physically. My mother, bless her soul, aged horrifically. She smokes, she drank a lot in her youth, she did a lot of casual drugs, never wore sunscreen, ate like crap, etc. I can see how much of a toll it's taken on her self-esteem. While she wasn't a head-turner, she was beautiful, and she threw that gift down the toilet. While you may not be hot when you're 60, you can still be beautiful if you take care of yourself.
7. Believe people when they tell you he's not a nice person. If one person says it, that's an opinion. If seven people say it, you should probably listen. Highly manipulative people put on a face for people they like, and drag everyone else through the pasture. He will eventually stop liking you, and the chickens will come home to roost.

​
I'd love to hear about what things you ladies have noticed in your mothers' marriages, what went wrong and what went right.

I said what I said. Take a 6 piece Arby's nugget and compare it to, say, McDonald's. Far better! Not only are they biggethicker, but they are also far better quality. You can tell it's made from real chicken instead of the heavily processed and liquified chicken product. I stand by this.

I just came on here to share some nuggets of wisdom about bras in general, if one of you find you learned something new then my job is done:)
To start with, I work in a high end lingerie store where we shape TO your body, not the other way around. Lingerie has the absolute power to transform how you feel on the daily as it’s the one thing that no uniform and no individual could control. Only YOU know what’s underneath (unless not, in that case im happy for you) and that’s special! I like to teach clients how they could wear special “fancy” pieces that they previously thought only existed for those special occasions on the daily. Quality of each piece matters, and personally find that European quality is just so much more than north American offers (cries in Canada). Once you figure out your size, you could mix around lingerie in your everyday wardrobe as statement pieces, sneaky peekaboos that could look so sophisticated when done right (ex: having a fancy lacy strap peaking through a blouse, having the top of the lacy cup peeking through in a cami, etc).
On top of this: I’ve met so many people who were mistreated at lingerie stores previously. You should not ever feel pushed into buying anything. You should not be ridiculed, shamed and ignored. Only YOU know what’s comfortable for you at the end of the day: and that’s okay. If you come to me and I fit you and you say you don’t like the true band size fit, and prefer loose because of ___, I will just warn you that you will not get as much support as you COULD, but will encourage you to stick with what you already know. If you’re sensitive to lace *good quality lace girl, not the la senza grit 4000 shred your lats by midnight. I will never show you lacey stuff. If you prefer to go in alone with no associate in the store to help you, I have tips on the bottom:)
Also a disclaimer: bra fitting is a freaking science to say the least, and that’s exactly why people like me exist! Since starting work I haven’t seen two pairs of breasts that are alike. Everyone is unique, everyone has at least a little difference in volume from left to right, and everyone has different preferences for bras.
I work hard everyday to break the stereotype of coming home and taking off that itchy piece of torture we wear daily for 8+ hours in our lives. I see so many girls come in saying they’re a 36C and they want a bra that FITS but surprise surprise they come out a 32G…
It could also be a very intimate and powerful piece of beautiful art that we wear for ourselves. Everyone deserves to be comfortable and feel beautiful in something like a bra.
Now onto the fun stuff, I’m gonna walk you through how to size yourself as best as you can :
Once you calculated your bra size with the calculator (which is correct for so many people (if measured according to instructions), however, some may feel more comfortable in sister sizing(see below))
To start with, there are two “main” types of bras: lined and unlined (padded/unpadded). I will not use any sort of “push up” or bra that has extra padding to give the girls any sort of “oomph”. When working, I prefer to size customers with unlined as that is when I can visually see if the sizing works because the padding hides any extra space that you’re not filling in that specific size. So to start with, i’m gonna have you grab any style unlined bra in the store to try on, along with two sister sizes in the same colour and style:

I will be using european sizing from here on out, so a DDD is just an F (D, DD=E, etc)

Fun fact: 2 bras of the same style but different colours usually fit DIFFERENT. I know all of the product that we offer, so I know which collections and which things fit and how they fit and who they work well with. You do not need this, just remember that every bra fits different even in the same size. The difference between the sizing is super minimal, but for comfort purposes you have to try on a lot. Just because a red bra made of super tight thick material doesn’t let you breathe in a 32H doesn’t mean that a lacy soft bra will as well.

• Go up a band size and down a cup size. (For example: if your “true” size is a 32C, I want you to grab 34B as well)

Fun fact: Sister sizes technically have around the same volume as each other but the shape of the wire is different. In every cup going up (A,B,C) the wire kind of concaves more outward so there’s more volume depending on the “root” of the girls. And sometimes the band fits better if your in between sizes:)

• Go down a band size and up a cup size.(Again, if your “true” size is 32C I want you to grab 30D)

Now into the changing room!

• Physical : Put on your “true” size first. Hook it on the loosest hook and pull the band below your back muscles. Now adjust the straps so that the band sits comfortably snug under the muscles, with around 3 fingers put horizontally under the hook on your back. It should stretch about 3-4 cm, and then “scoop” under your girls, sit them comfortably on top of the wire. Then grab the strap on top of the cup and pull it upwards towards your back and tighten until you have up to 2 fingers worth of space between the straps and your shoulder when you pull on it. Move around, if the wire is stabbing you when you’re flapping like a dying bird, not your fit.

the bra wire should sit comfortably under your girl hugging the shape. The end of the wire is supposed to be angles towards your armpit, not stabbing the girls.

• Visual : Now stand with relaxed shoulders and assess the size -> Is your boob inside the cup? There should be no “muffin top”. I’m trying to describe this as best as i can but i’m crying at this description i’m sorry😂* Now with a relaxed straight back (don’t hunch shoulders), lean over. If there’s a big gap it’s not your size girl move on.

Now repeat this with a sister size. Doesn’t matter if this one feels perfect, TRY it out some find these way more comfortable.
Now onto finding a GOOD quality bra that could outlast you:
also a very important one: Is it flattering? There are different types of styles of bras : demi cup, full cup, plunge, etc etc
I want you to try on at least a few before deciding what you don’t like. So many people don’t imagine wearing something when on display but change their minds when it’s on them.
Good quality bras that could last DECADES are in the 90-200 range. La senza and VS are following the big price ranges slowly but their quality is nowhere as good as something that Simone Pirele or Huit offers.
Fun fact: Red and any colour with red hues closer to your skin tone (read: beige lighter than your skin tone DOESNT work) will cover better under white tshirts than white.
If your bra is truly your size you should not feel it at the end of the workday.
Now random tips:
For bigger sizing stick to thicker straps. You need the support and the thin straps will dig in and make you die inside.
Demi cups are supper flattering on smaller sizes
Look at the stitching and quality of the material of the bra, learn to judge it: actual band material, if it feels high quality, if the lace is soft, etc etc. The felt on the back of the wire doesn’t count as “quality”. It should be soft but it’s never perfect, there’s some string strangers, etc.
I’ll edit if I remember anything important to add but my fried brain is retired after a long day :)

I'm recently engaged to a beautiful woman named Larissa who makes my head swirl. Looks, personality, and a similar taste in food, I mean she had it all. For my birthday last year I got to drive one of those Lamborghinis across the track, and fire a round out of an Abram tank. A tank round! I'm not much of a gun aficionado, but a tank round!
Which was all the worst, when 3 weeks before the wedding I had to tell my drop dead gorgeous fiancée that I needed to leave for a couple of days.
It's not an easy thing for a bride to swallow: juggling food prep, alterations, cancellations, seating arrangements, two sides of the family, busy bodies, food allergies, one aunt that won't stop calling, and another one that keeps asking if her wearing white to our wedding as she's sort of the matriarch of the family was going to be a problem (side note: we told her multiple times that it was not okay). The list goes on, trust me.
So when she asked for an explanation. I had to tell her the truth no matter how terrible it sounded. It wouldn't feel right knowing that the precursor to our marriage was a lie.
"Is it kids? Oh God, do you have a little Jimmy running around somewhere? No, Jim. I can't handle this right now."
"Lars, what? No. It's not a kid."
She was peeling and stamping invitations in our tiny 625 square foot apartment. "Well then what is it? I thought we agreed to no bachelor parties. I thought. We agreed that those were for people who were ready for a wedding but not the marriage. I don't care if it's tradition." She stamped the envelop extra hard.
"No, it's nothing like that. Trust me." I shuddered just thinking about it. "It's not any kind of thing I would be doing if I didn't have to."
She glared at me, "But you have to."
I nodded.
The table shook again. "Okay. So spit it out." She handed me a few envelopes. "If it's not a kid. And it's not a bachelor party. Then what is it?" She scoffed, "It's not like you're married right?" Her smile slowly started leaving her face, "Oh my God." She crumpled an envelop against her forehead. "You've got to be kidding me."
"Larissa..."
"Don't you Larissa me!" She looked me right in the eye, "Tell me I'm not the other woman Jim!"
"Well not technically."
"What does that even mean," she exasperated. "Go on, tell me how it's not technically."
So several years ago I was straight out of college. I could have worked some menial desk job and climbed the corporate ladder. But the idea of never leaving my home town ate me up.
So when an ad for native English speakers to come teach on some remote island presented itself to me. I jumped at the opportunity. Next thing I know I was booking a one way ticket to begin my new life as an expat.
In my head, I thought I was going to land, check into my hotel, enjoy the sights, and come the first Monday walk to the nearest English Cram school and get a job on my good looks alone.
On Monday, the school I went to, the hallways were packed with other Americans, British, Australians, and I think some Canadian was squishing himself into one of the tiny student chairs. All waiting for a job interview.
The next place was like that as well.
So was the next.
By the end of the first week I was beat. Tired and defeated, I thought my luck had run out. So I did what any 20 something would in a brand new city. I hit the bars. I hit them hard.
After the last place kicked me out as they closed I was stumbling around trying to make my way back to the hotel. Grumbling, groggy eyed and trying not to vomit all over the street. When something shiny caught my eye.
It was a silk red purse with gold embroidery tied with a thick yarn. There weren't many people out this late. But everyone who passed by it acted as if it wasn't even there. Like they didn't see it or something.
The bag alone looked like it was worth something. At the time all I was thinking was that, maybe someone would trade a drink for it, as my pockets were empty and all I wanted was for my head to be the same way.
I stumbled as inconspicuously as possible, or as much a drunk guy could finesse and made my way toward the bag. Looking around the entire time, making sure no one was running up claiming that it was theirs, or worse calling me a thief and have me thrown in jail in a different country.
And when no one did, I finally scooped it up and untied it. To my surprise, the bag was filled with money. Bright colorful bills with huge figures even at the current exchange rate. And there was even gold. Some rubies. I took one out and bit into it, almost breaking my tooth.
I couldn't believe how my luck had changed. I flipped through the cash and realized that there was enough to fund my trip for a few extra weeks. AND get me a plane ticket back home. The jewelry even, seemed sizeable.
There I was in one of the lowest, darkest moments. And a pot of gold seemingly dropped out of the sky for me. Thoughts of finding its real owner never even occurred to me.
I was quickly pocketing the thing and planning to high tail it out of there when a frail old man approached me from the shadows. Now I had learned some of the language before hand, but I couldn't understand what he was saying.
He kept smiling though and patting my shoulder, spouting words so quickly that if they weren't already gibberish to me, they would still make no sense in my drunken state.
I fumbled the bag around before juggling it into the crook of my arm, in order to reach my phone to help translate what the hell the old guy was trying to tell me.
The translation caught him mid sentence but all I needed was to hear one word back then and I regurgitated the last couple of hours all over the sidewalk and blacked out.
When I came to, I was back at the hotel with a killer hang over. I was wondering how I made it back when I remembered faintly of the old man helping me. That's when I remembered the pouch and my eyes darted around the room and to my relief, "It wasn't just a dream." The pouch was there, full and plump with a few bills sticking out from the throat.
Next to it was a note, that I would later translate to read about a woman who had turned 18 that year. The numbers 3 and 13 were inscribed as well. Her approximate height, which seemed weird. I mean, why would they go through all this trouble and not just tell me her actual height? Her name, her sign, and her address.
I was completely fucking baffled at all of this information, when I suddenly remembered my phone. I pulled it out and looked up the last thing still on my screen, which was a translation from Google. It read: my future son-in-law. I am so happy you've agreed to marry my daughter. Don't forget to come to the wedding.
No wonder I passed the fuck out.
I shook my head and checked the purse again. Yeah there must have been close to 5 grand in there. Not including the gold, the rubies, or a jade piece I found at the bottom.
Whatever was going on. I had no clue. But I sure as hell wasn't about to get married to some girl I didn't know. Even if I did need the money.
So I used a bit of the cash to get a taxi to the address. When I arrived, the old man saw me from his courtyard. He was smiling and happy, pointing and calling for someone inside the house. A few seconds later a short lively woman appeared. And she was just as happy to see me.
I didn't know what was happening but next thing I do know was they surrounded me in a hug. Happy and joyous, bouncing and wobbling, enough for me to almost hurl again, which I did, except this time I swallowed it.
"Hey, I'm sorry. I don't know what's going on. But the note says something about marriage."
The pair looked at each other and exchanged a series of phrases. "Marriage," the old man finally enunciated.
I nodded. Then shook my head. "No, not marriage."
We went back and forth in a similar manner for awhile before the woman ran off to get someone. When she returned with a young man about 14 or 15, wearing glasses and sporting a bowl cut, he explained to me about the pouch.
"It's a tradition in this area for a ghost dowry. I think that is how you say it."
"A ghost dowry?"
"Yeah. In our area. When a daughter dies really young, especially as an infant. THe parents will start saving money for her ghost dowry. Because we believe that when she turns 18, she'll return and ask to be married off."
"You've got to be kidding me."
"No, it's quite common. Mostly everyone knows about it. Which is why they don't pick up the pouch. Not unless they're really in need of money."
"I'm really in need of cash kid, but I'm not about to get married. I'm especially not getting married to some...girl that passed away." I handed him the money but he wouldn't even touch it. Avoiding it like some kind of plague. I even tried handing it back to the old man but he kept pushing the pouch back at me and shaking his head.
The kid shrugged, "You can't give it back. Those are the rules. Once you've picked it up, you've accepted the dowry and MUST get married."
"Why me," I asked rhetorically.
"She chose you."
"What? Okay. Listen kid. What if I don't get married? Are they going to report me to the cops or sue me?"
"No."
"So I can just walk away?"
The kid shrugged again, "You'll be back."
"What?"
"I'm not sure. But from the stories I've heard. The groom to be always comes back. It might take awhile, but he does. Sometimes it's because he's traditional himself and his family tells him he must do the right thing. Other times he comes back because the girl won't leave him alone."
"Won't leave him alone?"
"Yeah. They say that the bride will come find the man at the hour of her birth, haunting him until he returns and agrees to fulfill his end of the bargain."
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah. Sure. I'm sure that's it kid. Either way. I can't take this money knowing what it's for." I put it on the table. "Please tell him that I wish their family luck in fulfilling their tradition. Also, tell them that I'm sorry for using some of the money for the cab fare. I had no other choice to return what is theirs."
The boy shrugged a third time, "It's yours now. You should take it. What are you going to do? Walk all the way back?"
"That's exactly what I'm going to do."
"It'll be dark by then," he added. "She could come find you."
"I'll be fine. And plus what if she was born in the day time?"
"They only come at the dark time of her birth hour. If she was born in the afternoon. She'll come at midnight," he shouted after me as I left.
I tried not to think about everything that's happened to me this past week as I walked back. But it wasn't a rocks throw by any stretch. Which gave me plenty of time to think. About my maxed out credit cards, the hotel stay winding out by the end of the week, and of course the wedding.
By the time that I got back to the hotel I was a tired, hot mess. I was also hungry and my feet were swollen as they were unused to the tropical heat. But I was sure glad that the showers were already paid up. I took an extra long one before crashing into my bed. Snacking on a candy bar I had brought from back home.
I turned on some tv and tried not to let the impending doom of being kicked out on the streets bother me too much. As a plan began brewing in my head on who I'd call in a few hours when it was morning stateside. A few people still owed me favors back home, which I hoped they would be good for, which I hoped was good enough to get me back home.
Several times I dozed off as the tv buzzed in the background. Each time I woke up staring at the bright red alarm clock blaring its red angry dashes at me. By the third or fourth time my head jerked me awake as it fell to my chest. I looked up to see the time on the clock. It was 3:12. When something clicked in my head and I fished for the note still in my back pocket.
Su-ru Yen
18 this year.
3:13
I stopped reading and glanced back up at the clock. The little kids words reaing in my ear. "She comes at her death hour."
I waited, not realizing that I was holding my breath until I felt my lungs start to burn.
In a blink the clock changed and I glanced around as if waiting for something to happen. But nothing happened. My stomach suddenly growled, echoing in the empty room and I laughed, "Maybe I should have just taken the money."
*dak dak*
Came a knock from the motel door.
*dak dak*
My heart was caught in my chest. The main artery was constricted and wouldn't let go.
*dak*
I was shaking in my bed, too afraid to move or answer the door.
*dak dak* *dak dak* *dak*
It went on like this a full 4 minutes before it stopped. WHen it had finally stopped I tried getting out of bed, but I couldn't. For a second I was afraid to look down, afraid that her hand would be there holding me in place so that we could elope.
But it was just my hand clenching the bed sheets so tightly that I couldn't budge. I had to use my other hand to pry my own fingers off in order to creep slowly to the door and look into the eyehole.
It felt blurry as I blinked my eye, trying to clear it. Tears had welled at the corners without me realizing it. I wiped them away and slowly, reluctantly bent down and stared into the peephole.
No one was there.
But for the next 3 days. My door would knock. It didn't matter if I was on the bed, or in the bathroom. The closet was the worst as the knocking felt like it was right against my face. It didn't even matter if I ran outside, as no one would be around within eyesight. The knocking would always find me.
On the fourth and last day of my stay. The door knocked right on time.
*dak dak* *dak dak* *dak*
I felt the familiar twinge in my chest and my body was numb all over. But this time I was determined to take a look. And finally catch whoever or whatever it was that was playing this cruel joke on me.
*dak dak* *dak dak* *dak*
I tried gettoung out of bed but I couldn't. I was too scared. Several times I glanced from the clock to the door. Afraid to take my eyes off the door for too long, afraid that she would come through it if I did. Afraid that I would miss her and she would haunt me forever. And as the clock started ticking down. I kept whsipering myself. "She's only here for four minutes. She's only here for four minutes." And it was almost 3:17.
Seconds before the clock changed I jumped out of bed. Determined to end this thing once and for all.
*dak dak* *dak dak* *dak*
I didn't have time to look through the door. Even if I did I was afraid if I saw something there. I'd be too chicken to open the door. So I tore the band aid right off and swung the door open wide.
There was no one there.
But then from my corner cornea, something caught my eyes. A trail of something translucent was dragging away. I tried to take a step after it but my first step out of the door stopped me dead. My foot was drenched wet and it felt sticky beneath my sock. The coldness of it traveled up my spine, and to this day I can only describe it as the feeling of something metal scraping across my vertebrate. By the time I looked up, the wisps were gone. ANd the trail it left behind was already drying.
That night I couldn't sleep a wink. I waited until morning came and took to the streets. Desperate to find the old couple's house. Stopping several times to ask for directions and circling around streets and street signs that I couldn't read until I heard a familiar voice.
"I told you you'd be back."
"Kid," I grabbed him.
"Whoa. You look like you've seen a ghost." His eyes grew wide as he looked me over. "So the stories are true!" He didn't waste any more time. "Come on," he called after me. Leading me down the street and to the old couples courtyard. The pouch was still on the table outside where I had left it days ago.
The kid knocked on the door and shouted until the old man answered. He was still in his sleeping clothes when he saw my face, and his demeanor completely changed. He was so happy to see me. Opening the door wider and ushering us inside.
"Tell him I want it to stop," I told the kid. "Tell him I want her to leave me alone."
The kid translated but the old man shook his head before speaking. The kid looked at me and said, "He says then 'Marry her'."
"I can't do that!"
"Then she'll never leave you alone."
"She just going to keep knocking on my door? Forever?"
The kid turned to the old man and told him in their language what I said. The old man gripped his cane and tapped it once lightly on the ground, almost as if he were proud, before he told the boy who then told me, "She's a kind and gentle soul. He knew she would be. If she's only knocking on your door so far."
"So far? So far? Okay. What? Fuck. So then what? What happens if I marry her?"
The kid asks the old man and after a few words were exchanged he turned to me, "Then you will be wed."
"yeah. I get that. But what does that really mean?"
The kid clicks his tongue, "From what I understand. I think it means you'll have to honor her every month."
"Honor her? How? Like make a sacrifice? A blood sacrifice or something?"
The kid laughed, "No. Just Bai Bai. I don't know how to say it. Pray?".
"Pray to her?"
"Acknowledge her. Talk to her wooden nameplate. It's what serves as a gravestone for our dead."
"So just pray to her once a month, and that's it?"
The kid talks to the old man for awhile before turning back to me. "Yeah. That, and you'll be blessed."
"Blessed?"
"Yeah. Not sure about that one."
"Okay. Fine. What else. Like what if I want a girlfriend someday. Or get married. Have kids. Can I not do that? Will she haunt me? Haunt them?"
The kid asks the old man before turning to me, "Not if you ask for her permission. In a ghost dowry, you're allowed to have concubines. As long as she is consulted first and agrees."
I shake my head, "This is fucking crazy."
The kid shrugs. I seem to get the feeling he likes to shrug. "It's either that or she keeps haunting you."
I mulled that over in my head. "Shit." I stomped around the courtyard. "Okay. Fine. Fine! What do I need to do?"
The kid looks up at the sky. "We'll have to prepare."
"What? But it's already late. I want to get it over with as soon as possible. I don't want to wait another night of her coming to my door."
The kid smiles, "Don't worry. You won't. This kind of wedding can only happen at night."
For the next several hours I waited. Watched as neighbors and family. Cousins. Came to help. Food was brought in. Large round tables were set outside the courtyard. A tailor came and measured me up, twice. Decorations were strung and the sun began to fall.
When night came, the people who had gathered were tired but pleased with themselves that they had finished. I was asked to change into my wedding clothes and to wait outside the door of the couple's house until called. The lanterns behind me burning and the smell of food wafted in the air.
I waited until the doors finally opened.
Inside I saw the old man and the old woman start constructing something before a traditional wooden shrine at the back of the room.
They started with the legs. Sewn pieces of white cloth. The torso. The arms. And finally the head. When it was put together, the couple slipped on a white dress over the effigy they had constructed. Then the old woman went off through one of the side doors and returned with a box. From inside the box she withdrew a folded blanket. It looked faded but the edges were crisp and completely clean. The old man reach into the box and removed a sickly green thread that seemed to stick to his fingers, from it hung tiny strands of black hair, which he stuck gently to the back of the effigy's head.
The woman threw the blanket over its face, covering it.
Then the old couple turned to me and beckoned me forward. I looked behind me and none of the other guests moved.
Even the kid stood next to the door, unwilling to step inside as I entered.
I walked slowly up, next to the effigy until we stood side by side.
The old woman turned toward the shrine where a wooden plaque stood at the table. On it were three character words that I couldn't read. And she began to speak, the kid behind us translated in suit.
"Dear daughter. Mother is glad that you're finally being wed off. Though Mother will miss you as a girl. I am so glad of the woman that you have become. I am so proud of you. Please, continue to make me proud." She sighed. "When you were born I was so happy. Even if you only lived for a few short minutes. And I am sorry that the fates have been cruel to you. But I am thankful that they at least showed mercy enough to give you a husband. Take care my sweet girl."
"We love you," the father finished.
The old couple hands me a bowl. Inside are small boba looking balls swimming in a clear soup.
The kid behind me, "It's tradition to take a bite, and then feed your bride."
I looked at the old couple and they nodded at me, motioning for me to eat. I dipped my spoon in and took a mouthful. Chewing slowly. And swallowing.
Then they motioned for me to feed her.
I dipped my spoon again. And awkwardly raised it towards her. Slipping it under her veil to where her lips would be. Pretending to feed her.
Now I watched them put this thing together. Besides the creepy hair and the swaddling cloth for a veil. It was nothing more than cloth and stuff. I knew this.
At least that was what I thought until I heard it chew.
I could hear her jaws sticking as they moved up and down. The room was dark but signs of the veil moving completely terrified me. I couldn't even hear the people breathing behind me or the lanterns burning. All I could hear was her chewing.
When she finished. There was silence. Then everyone cheered.
After that, it was like any normal wedding I had attended. The guests poured in and I shook just about everyone's hand. Hugging complete strangers. My new parents. And even the kid.
Then we ate and drank, for almost a week. Someone was sent to get my things from the hotel and I stayed with my in-laws for the remainder of my stay. Which turned out to be several years. Because the following week I was offered as job as an English instructor at a nearby school.
I was told the principal owed the old couple a favor, but something told me that it wasn't the whole story.
I enjoyed my work at the school but didn't stay for long. As I started traveling to film a documentary about the local cuisine after a few of my YouTube videos mysteriously went viral as an expat who tried weird but delicious treats.
Eventually, my in-laws passed away. First it was mom. And four days later dad followed suit. I lived alone in the house for awhile, before I hit the jackpot at the weekly supermarket draw from one of my receipts. That, along with selling the house, was enough for me to go back to America and start a brand new life. Where I opened several shabu shabu restaurants that were met with great success.
"Eventually meeting you during one of my rounds."
My fiancée who had been listening to my story slack jawed the entire time couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Bull-fucking-shit!" She slapped me playfully across the arm. "You are such a good fucking liar!" She laughed. "I've always heard about guys not wanting to help out about the wedding arrangements. But this one takes the fucking cake. I'm going to post this in the group chat tomorrow. Bra-vo."
I laughed with her. "Yeah. That's it. It's just a great story."
"Now finish this up and let's go upstairs," she commanded. We stamped the last envelopes and went to bed. She was still laughing sporadically as I closed the door to our bedroom. "Knock knock," she joked.
I humored her, "Knock knock."
And we watched tv until she fell asleep.
I made sure she was sound asleep, before I gently crawled out of bed and put on my slippers. Softly opening the door and closing it behind me as I walked through the house. Down to the first floor. Then to the basement. Where I pulled the key I kept around my neck and slipped it into the lock.
Inside the basement was bare, except for two chairs and some boxes that I had taken from the old house, and the table, and the small wooden plaque that had my first wife's name inscribed on it in her native language.
"I'm going to get married soon," I told her. "She's a great person. Funny. Beautiful. And devoted. Kind of like you." I held the wood plaque in my hands. "I hope you approve." I waited as if she would answer. But she didn't. Never in all the years we've been married. "I can't go back home to ask for your permission. But I hope that this is enough." I looked at her name, almost longingly. As I had grown quite attached to our time together. "And I hope that this will be the last time we talk as I move on with my life. Thank you so much," I told her as I put her away."
Months flew by, and I never revisited the basement. Knowing full well that I had missed our visiting days. Though I'd often catch myself talking to her on some tough days. But nothing bad happened, by not seeing her plaque. Nothing bad at all.
Soon the wedding day was upon us. And it was a great party, as great as the best there ever was. Great good. Great company. And tons and tons of alcohol.
Larissa and I were giggling at the end of it, drunk as we stumbled upstairs from the venue to the presidential suite. Laughing all the way, kissing, barely able to keep our hands off each other as we got into our room.
My new bride pushed herself off me as we entered the threshold, and sprawled herself on the bed. Her legs rubbing against each other as her eyes invited me to come closer. I propped a knee on the bed to join her.
*dak dak*
We both shot our eyes to the door and then at the table side where the clock blared at us an angry red of 3:13.
Larissa looked up at me with a horrified look. I could see her bottom lip quivering.
"Hello," I called out. With my back to the door. "Sam? Bobby?" But no one answered. "Room service?"
*dak dak*
*dak*

How many calories would my piece of skinless chicken breast be? I weighed it before I cooked it and it was 200 grams.

Madison's premier Clash tribute with surf punks The Gübers are ready to melt faces!

Hello,
I checked some old posts and the wiki but couldn't find a direct answer for this problem. We have a five year old neutered female cat - probably a tabby and siberian forest cat mix- who is 7.6kg at the moment with a body condition something between 7-8. We realized she got overweight a month and a half ago, and put on her a diet. We feed her Farmine N&D Prime chicken&pomegranate dry food, a gram of this dry food is 4.2 kcal and we started feeding her 60 grams per day -apparently she was eating 78grams for a few months before we stopped free feeding her-, but she is not really losing any weight. We started to cut down her food even more to 50 grams for the past few days, however we are scared that we may be leaving our cat malnutrioned/nutrient deficient because of that.
We play with her around 2 minutes every 2 hours or so. Sometimes more. She can run and everything. Yet she is not losing any weight.
Also she had a vaccine appointment with a vet a month ago, and vet told us that she is "a bit overweight" and just asked us if she ate more than she needed and we said "yes", as she ate 78 grams on average per day. ( We know this number because, we basically calculated it over when we bought the food and divided the consumed amount to days past)
We also currently ordered a new diet food: https://www.zooplus.de/shop/katzen/katzenfutter_trockenfutteconcept_for_life_veterinary_diet_cat_dry/weightcontrol/782425
We hope that this may in the end help our cat to lose weight.
By the way we also made an Excel sheet of how much we fed her and it is on average 57-58 grams per day since April 11 2023, which is around 243 calories.
If anyone can help us it will be much appreciated, now we try to put our cat in 208 calorie diet, but it would really suck to harm her while trying to help her.
Thanks in advance!
Edit: Forgot to add: She is almost a completely indoor cat, we just sometimes roam the halls of the building we live in, but she doesn't go into other apartments or anything. We also currently reside in Southern Germany.
Also I just calculated, since 13 March she apparently ate on average 57.3 grams of dry food, but she also got some little food scraps time to time from us. Nothing major, it's like some grams of tuna when we open a can of tuna, or a few licks of yoghurt. I would guess in a worst case scenario it would add up to 60 grams per day in terms of calories.

https://i.imgur.com/c2cerX0.jpg
Wasgud everyone,
I’m 21m 5’7 (a short man 😂) and my weight loss started in January so coming up to six months. I started when i got 300lbs because I never thought I’d actually get that heavy but seeing that was a big slap in the face and a much needed reality check. I’m currently at 257lbs and my goal for my final weight that I want to maintain is 170. However, I want to get down to 150 and then start building muscle to 170.
I try to go to the gym at least 4 days a week. I usually do the elliptical for an hour and the treadmill for 15-30min (i’m usually tired by then). Then about 30 minutes of laps at the park with my 1yo. So i try to get a minimum of one and half hour of exercise. I also do intermittent fasting (15:9) but i average ~17h fast.
My diets consistent of no breakfast because i usually fast til about 11am and at that time i’m usually in class. So lunch, matters on what I want either I’ll have a sandwich with lots of veggies, wheat bread, and turkey slices or a fruit smoothie with strawberry, papaya, pineapple, mango, blueberry, raspberry, blackberry, chia seeds, and a scoop of protein. I meal prep for 10 days when I run out because it takes a few hours on the weekend. Last week was between jerk chicken and veggies/beef chunks and broccoli. I don’t track my calories, I really just eat portion size and try to stay away from carbs. I just got some greek yogurt bars that in excited to try to help with wanting sweets (100 calories). I’m also a big fan of kettle corn popcorn and got the 100 calories bags. I limit myself 2 snacks a day so either 2 popcorns, 1 ice cream/1 popcorn, or 3 ice creams.
I honestly didn’t think I’d stick to this for so long so I didn’t take before pictures. I got a lot of self doubt so I thought this would be another failed weight loss attempt. Main thing for me is I try not to get too upset when the scale goes up a few pounds just have to take it as motivation instead of just falling back. Thanks for coming to my TED talk.

I prepare meals delivered to a homeless Respite open on Mondays (16-24 meals per week). The Respite has a microwave so I generally take frozen meals in individual serving containers. And I can save some for myself for use in ensuing days or weeks.
My rules are that the meal should be:

• Balanced with respect to calories, fiber, fat, cholesterol, sodium and protein and provide 60% RDA.
• Cost to me of no more than $2.50 per meal in Sacramento CA, including containers and utensils.
• Be palatable to the average homeless person who is used to American fare. Curry dishes are probably too exotic and things like lentils are considered weird.
• I shop specials and freeze in advance. The quality must be acceptable to me! I eat the same meals.

Standard ingredients are:

• Ground turkey 93/7, chicken thighs, pork loin, Bristol canned ham, chunk light tuna, boneless ham on special. Maybe beef for stewing if on special (< $4 per pound).
• Eggs, egg whites, brick cheese, almond (or soy) milk, butter, margarine
• Potatoes, onions, garlic, rice and pasta (egg noodles, rotini, penne, etc.). Spaghetti is not easy to eat if you are sitting on the ground with the bowl in your lap.
• Frozen vegetables: peas and carrots, onions and peppers, sweet potatoes, cauliflower, broccoli, etc.

Staples are:

• Rice and pastas, flour, sugar, raisins, salt, mustard, ketchup
• Canned tomatoes and tomato sauces, tomato paste, canned potatoes, chicken broth (low sodium)
• Spices and Herbs: minced onion, garlic powder, pepper, paprika, ginger, parsley, oregano, bay leaves, cumin, cinnamon, thyme, sage, basil

It can be done (some meals need sides, some are complete):

• Ground turkey meatloaf, cranberry sauce, green beans
• Chicken Thigh Cacciatore over rotini broccoli side
• Ham slices with raisin sauce, sweet potato puree, broccoli side
• Tuna casserole with peas and carrots (complete meal)
• American Beef stew (complete meal)
• Pork Bourguignon (complete meal)
• Shepherd's (Cottage) pie with ground beef or ground turkey (contains peas, carrots, onions, celery)
• .....

Hey guys. So I decided to spend an hour to see how long it would take to reach the droprate of any evil chicken piece and the whole outfit getting god eggs purely from woodcutting. The results are disgusting.
Let me explain the mechanics for getting bird nest drops from woodcutting first. Every time you chop a log there's a 1/256 it'll be replaced with a bird nest. And when that nest is rolled there's a 3/100 (3/95 with a strung rabbit foot equipped) chance it contains any 1 of 3 different god eggs.
When a god egg is sacrificed to the altar in the woodcutting guild there's a 1/1200 chance to roll any specific evil chicken outfit piece. So the droprate for any piece of the outfit is 1/300.
So when it comes to woodcutting the best method for logs/hr is 1.5t teaks. When doing 1.5t teaks on fossil island you can roughly maintain 205k exp/hr if you're playing semi efficiently and know the method well. This equates to around 1600 logs cut/hr.
So finally the results. If we divide 1600 logs/hr with 256/1 (=256) we get that you can get ~6 bird nest rolls/hr. Then if we divide 6 bird nests/hr with 95/3 (=33+2/3) we get that you can get ~0.2 god eggs/hr which equates to 1 god egg every 5 hours. Finally if you multiply 5 hours/egg with 1200/4 (=300) we get that it takes ~1500 HOURS to reach the droprate of ANY evil chicken piece. To reach the droprate of the entire outfit without getting any dupes it would take ~6000 HOURS.
So in conclusion don't do woodcutting for your god eggs. All you completionists should just stick to kingdom and bird house runs.

The 3 basic parameters of hashtag #Valzubiriagenda:

1. We artists and everyone else can write and self-publish art- and artist-related books: memoirs, biographies, art books and art catalogs. Books are forever. Pamphlets and brochures are not books.
2. We announce a schedule of increasing prices of our art pieces, which includes quantities (scarcity numbers) per price point and overall (the total quantity of art pieces we might ever make). This helps art traders, art investors and art collectors speculate or even stop speculating and instead join a community of investors working together to hopefully skyrocket to the higher announced prices in a shorter span of time.
3. We can use the NFT world, because NFTs provide the tracking (who owns what) and trading.

We can also not be involved with NFTs. Stores and individuals can help sell art using online presence and our catalogs in the stores. If this trends, or once this trends, even expensive art can be sold by neighboring businesses, without exclusivity. Commission systems do not have to be standardized. Art investors can produce their own catalogs to leave at the cafés. Even the cafés can produce their own catalogs.
Valzubiriagenda NFTs
NFTs only came about a few years ago. But I had been working on this since the 1990s. I wrote a book, Valzubiriagenda, along with fellow artist Silverio Perez, and released it in 2018 (Amazon and elsewhere), tackling everything related to #1 & #2. We'll come up with #3 in a later book/ memoi marketing book.
Any artist, including tangible artists can release 10,000 NFTs if the artist chooses to do so. For tangible artists, the NFT first becomes an Art Commission Contract for sight unseen, yet-to-be made art. Once the art is made, the NFT becomes proof of ownership that the actual, tangible art is theirs.
Warehousing our tangible art
Another related idea is that the tangible art may be warehoused by the artist so that the NFT traders continue to trade. This means that even 10-ton 10-foot tall sculptures can be owned and traded by anyone without worrying about shipping, reshipping, scratches, smudges, parts breaking off, etc. The newness of the pieces remain because they are stored by the artist, source, gallery, etc. The art piece gets shipped to the art collector, the ultimate owner.
An artist who makes ceramic coffee mugs - smaller art pieces, can release 10,000 NFTs with a schedule of increasing prices so that NFT traders can trade immediately. The 10,000 coffee mugs can get damaged, so as they are made, they continue to be stored by the artist, until the time when art collectors decide to have the art pieces shipped to them.
Why only now?
I decided to write as many book-length memoirs as I can before I came out to promote this.
I'm an artist and an author. Both need time to "master." I would not even fully use "master" on myself, because there's always something new, even to my own art, my own writing and publishing.

I am now claiming that I'm the visual artist who has produced the most artist memoirs in the world. I have 5 on Amazon. I count Valzubiriagenda as both a marketing book and a memoir-of-sorts, because it has a lot of my own life lessons on writing and publishing. I would not care to contest my claim of having the most memoirs. I will release 5 more over the next 3 years.

BARTER! Get help to write, photograph art and publish your books!
Anyone can hire 11 ghostwriters for 11 memoirs. If you can make art, but you cannot write, then barter your forever art with those who can help you produce forever books.
I don't feel the pressure of writing and publishing because I feel my focus should be on art students and art experts who would study my art and my books 100 years from now. Don't expect relatives and friends to read your books.
I call myself the Dollman
For my NFTs, I am proposing to make dioramas - my original, costumed, bejeweled porcelain dolls in backdrops that will also have precious metals and gemstones. This way I can incorporate precious metals and gemstones in my work, to make sure that people perceive my art as expensive, just in case I myself don't become "famous" - there's no need to get world famous. We are artists and all we need to do is to satisfy the art niche.
Use your laptop now!
I will encourage you to start writing your book-length memoir. Write, Edit and then Self-publish it. Get help. Why wait a hundred years for someone to write about you when all you need is a laptop and a nearby coffee shop.
Don't start counting chickens before the eggs hatch. I have encountered a lot of would-be writers who immediately see themselves as bestselling. world famous assets to society. Two even wanted me to sign NDAs (Nondisclosure agreements), because they did not want me to steal their book ideas.
Here's a suggestion. I would not personally do it. From one manuscript can come 2 books: The Original Draft (unedited, with misspellings, considered to be an art piece, scanned pages(?) of your handwritten original effort), and The Final Edition (edited).
PROVENANCE!
Another way to enhance our investability, tradability and collectability is PROVENANCE - how art ownership proceeds through time. The way this can be done is also through publishing books. Everyone can write their memoirs, biographies, art books and art catalogs, including traders, investors and art collectors. In effect, we artists can continue to be included or mentioned in even more books, without any additional effort by us.
You as an investor, reseller, trader, art collector should be able to publish a catalog with 250 works by 250 different artists, but they need to agree to this right from the start - it's your money, you should require them to follow your version of the hashtag #valzubiriagenda parameters, which preferably should include permission for you to publish their art. Why would you track down 250 artists later?
No exclusive contracts
If you're a café, you can call for artists, and come up with a book with for example, 30 artists, with a chapter devoted to each artist's profile and images of the artist's art.
You can distribute your catalogs to businesses and individuals near and far and online.
The book Valzubiriagenda even cites that funeral homes and janitors closets can sell art, with or without exclusivity. Airline catalogs can include million dollar art pieces. Car manufacturers, showrooms and even car repair shops can sell art as well. Everyone should be able to do this, anywhere in the world, especially not just because of the pandemic, but right now, we are in really bad economies.
What's with the name #Valzubiriagenda
I was into conspiracy theories in 2018, and this term, "The Mandela Effect," was popular. I had read many times that an artist coined the term, but I had to research online, for her name, many times, before remembering it. I'm not good at remembering names. It took me a year and a half to finally tell you that Fiona Broome coined "The Mandela Effect."
I also thought I might have to research trademarks and copyrights just to come up with a generic name. So I decided on "Valzubiriagenda." I was not really sure at first, but I decided to use it as the title for my book (with co-authoartist Silverio Perez) so that there would be no turning back and I can move on.
Am I a FUTURIST?
Someone I recently met this May 2022 just called me a futurist.
In the 1990s, I proposed to a pension fund that they can raise billions of dollars, especially for emergencies, or as needed, or out of desperation, if the pension fund purchases a quantity of art from an artist who not only has a current, reasonable price, but an announced future price that the artist wants to reach.
That future price would obviously be higher than the current price. The art commission contract for multiple art pieces can be taken to the fund's financial lender for a loan. The higher future price can be used for financing purposes.
The pension fund's treasurer, a publicly elected official, said this idea might work, but we had to keep this a secret and discuss this some more, because other pension funds might copy and do this prematurely. This idea had to come from the two of us. The treasurer needed his votes and I needed credentials.
Added into the pot was my idea that I, as the artist, will also write one book-length artist memoir. This was and still is a strong factor, because the leadership and marketing books I had read then mentioned a strong tip. If you want to advance in your field, write a full-length book that is related to the field.
Unfortunately, the elected official, the treasurer of the pension fund, who was also a friend, passed away - he was old and had ailments. At that point in time, I cannot just approach another pension fund treasurer to share this idea with.
I realized I had to write a few memoirs. I needed to set an example for other artists, so I needed to write more than one memoir. Then I felt I should also make ready another book - the how-to of what I'm up to. I wrote Valzubiriagenda, which was a memoir of sorts. I knew how long it would take me to write a book, so I had to make sure I can also consider this book a memoir.
In 2008, I imagined that someone like Bernie Madoff, or a fund like Lehman Brothers, would be desperate enough to use this to save themselves and their companies. I was not ready. I had only written 1 manuscript for a memoir.
In 2012, I released Dollman the Musical, A Memoir of an Artist as a Dollmaker. Once again, I was not ready because writing it depressed me a little, and I knew I had to write more.
In 2014, I released 3 memoirs, and re-released Dollman the Musical. Besides releasing regular books, I released special editions of the 4 books, which had a "Special Secret Insert for Bankers," which explains my ideas of an announced schedule of exponentially increasing prices, to satisfy investors, and the publication of artist memoirs, to satisfy art collectors.
In 2014, I also issued out a press release. Google "Can Billion Dollar Artist Save Investors and World Economy Valentino Zubiri PRWeb August 19 2014" and you will see the press release.
What I did was stake a claim on my ideas. I did not promote my books and the press release. I just wanted them to stay online, like a sleeping giant or a dormant volcano. I even designed 3 of the book covers to look like indie books from the 1980s. I was planting the seeds, thinking they will eventually grow and bear fruit in the future.
In 2015, I was interviewed by Richard Syrett, about one of my memoirs, Hocus Pocus Lately. This book is my memoir with paranormal stories. I could have pursued promoting my paranormal stories, but I wanted to be known first as a visual artist and memoirist, so I allowed myself one interview related to Hocus Pocus Lately. Richard Syrett has(had?) his own syndicated radio show, The Conspiracy Show with Richard Syrett, about the paranormal. He also guest hosts on Coast to Coast AM, another internationally syndicated show about the paranormal.
In 2018, I released Valzubiriagenda (co-authored by artist Silverio Perez, a fellow artist). Finally, this book is "the how-to of what I'm to."
I'm going to end this with some strangeness. In 1986, a lady at a religious gathering went into a trance and left a good number of messages. Supposedly, anyone who got into a trance would have messages, but once the trance was over, the person would not remember what was said.
I was not part of the group, but the lady turned her head to face me. She "foretold" that whatever I would decide to do in the future, it will take time, but it will be the right thing. This is one of my stories in one of my memoirs, Hocus Pocus Lately.
The Tulipmania of 1634-37
I discovered that there was this incident of rare tulips becoming collectible during the Dutch Golden Age. There were tulips so rare and so well-desired that their prices equaled to that of a house. You can read more about this online (Wikipedia) or watch a few YouTube videos about it.
Here is the most useful idea that I gleaned from the Tulipmania. The tulip bulbs remained safe inside nurseries. The traders were carrying the deeds of ownership to the tulip bulbs.
Then NFTs came to the forefront
I started learning PHP, an HTML scripting language, and MySQL, the database that PHP can connect to in the background, in 1999, when there were only 3 books about PHP and MySQL at the bookstores.
By 2014, I was trying to figure out how to make the "ledger," or database that can be used to update ownership and who can be contacted. If we are trading art, then the art ownership should be updated.
Then NFTs came about. This can be used as our ledger. Everyone can immediately trade NFTs of future, yet-to-be made art pieces, especially because it takes time to make tangible art.
NFTs actually went a step ahead, by allowing digital art to be traded.
The only setback with NFTs, in my opinion, is that it still lacks a commission system for resellers and representatives.
For example, if a café wants to represent me, then they can promote me at their café and on their online pages. If I make one piece of art that will be exclusively represented by a gallery, then that commission will be different and more specific. As ownership is transferred, the subsequent owners should be able to reset the commission. We should also have the option of giving commissions to hundreds of representatives at one time with different percentages if need be.
The recent crypto crash
Lately, we have observed that NFTs and cryptocurrencies have been behaving like the stock market and other markets. They have been fluctuating.
I believe that it is time for a trend which discourages fluctuation of prices.
I have also seen YouTube videos where social influencers are encouraging us to be on the lookout for exponentially profitable ventures, because we have all seen this happen with the exponential increase of Bitcoin and Ethereum.
Let's see if #Valzubiriagenda trends
We can announce present and future art prices. The galleries won't do this (yet?) because they follow a more traditional approach to the business of art.
We have a choice of using incrementally or exponentially increasing prices. We still reserve the right to change things in the future, so everyone should know to follow the latest update.
If this trends, if you as an artist simply announces that you will write an artist memoir, or that you will include the future works in future art books, you might have more art traders, investors and collectors approaching you.
Get your pen, paper and calculator
Imagine yourself as an artist, where you are right now. Let's just say you still do not have a book about yourself and your art yet. Imagine now that you have a memoir out there. Don't you think it makes sense to charge more than what you are charging now? Writing and publishing books is just the beginning. I'm just standardizing this approach. The books also say to do other related projects. In my case, getting Dollman the Musical onstage is one idea. You will have other related projects, but the publication of memoirs, biographies, art books and art catalogs will help all of us.
You can also imagine that a law firm that has meeting rooms, with someone who wants to form a local #valzubiriagenda group, can have meetings. A local café can do the same. Local photographers for your art, writers, editors, book designers, proofreaders and others can join in.
I suggest have printed books to share. 15 copies of your memoir or art books will be better than an e-reader or laptop or your phone to show. These gadgets can be stolen, sabotaged, broken, have coffee spilled on them, etc. 15 printed books means simultaneously showing to 15 people. You can even give them away to potential resellers, investors, traders and collectors.
When it rains, it pours, as in the days of Noah
There's a saying, "When it rains, it pours." There is a negative interpretation and a positive interpretation.
Negative: When trouble comes, they cascade to even more.
Positive: When opportunity comes knocking, more follow suit. We can assume that if one gets our art because of #valzubiriagenda, more want to do it now, because of the rising prices, and FOMO - fear of missing out. What will they lose if they miss the boat?
As I have said earlier, if the #valzubiriagenda trends, if you announce a future memoir or art catalog, you might have an increase of investors, traders and art collectors who would want to check you out. You might encourage more sales. Just remember to write and publish that memoir and art catalog.
There's this saying, "As in the days of Noah." Imagine Noah, building his ark, with members of his own family, putting all his time and effort into it. Noah was a nice guy. I'm sure every once in a while a neighbor offered him coffee, or chai latte, or whatever refreshing drink they might have back then.
Here's the lesson to be learned. Just because they offered him some type of bubble tea drink, or coca cola, they still didn't make it to the ark. Rubbing shoulders with actors does not make you an actor. I have told my artist friends to write their memoirs. They told me that once they see me succeed, after all these many years of seeing my seemingly useless efforts, then they will write their memoirs and follow the road that I had paved for them.
Good luck to them, but if I were you, act now, get my art or make art. Support the 5-year old artist whose parent promised to release a comprehensive art catalog. If you get that 5-year old's art, and mine, I would be honored to be in the same art catalog that you will produce. I'm already successful at that point. You have gotten the mission just right.
I have already claimed to have written the most book-length artist memoirs in the world. Dethrone that claim. Barter. Use ghostwriters. Success to me means facing God one day and saying, I wrote my memoirs and left the world a legacy of books and art. I will not tell God, smiling and proudly, that I encouraged a run for my art by announcing a schedule of exponentially increasing prices that reached 9 figures. I'm sure God knows we had fun.

JOIN THIS GROUP

If you want to try out #valzubiriagenda, in any capacity, join this group. Let others know about this group as well.
If you are an artist, you can let everyone know here that you will produce your memoir, art catalogs, etc. It's okay if you don't know how to go about publishing yet, I will discuss this. Please be honorable enough to produce what you promise to produce.
If you want to meet fellow artists, investors, resellers, etc., join us here.
If you are a book writer, editor, proofreader; if you can photograph art pieces; if you are a book designer, etc., join us here. Let us know if you charge, barter for art, or both.
If you have your own tips and knowledge to share, join us here.
If you have underaged artists you are managing (parents, etc.) join us here.
Join this group if you want to sell works. Post your works. You web links. I'm sure I will.
You can announce meetings in your area. You might have meeting rooms, a café, restaurant, etc. where people can meet. In the future, you can have the regular show and tell, where books can be shown and shared.
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Thanks for reading. Please let me know if I need to edit some parts. Please share and join this group. - Valentino Zubiri, Dollman, Artist, Memoirist
Underaged artists are welcome here, so please be mindful of your language. We cannot post your adult-oriented art pieces, but you can direct us to a separate page or community. There will be limits to your posts, and there will be adult-oriented art that we cannot allow to be posted.
Thanks for reading. Please let me know if I need to edit some parts. Please share and join this group. - Valentino Zubiri, Dollman, artist & memoirist