and now i lost the program

me-inmywords  asked:

Hi! I'm student teaching now and starting to look for schools to apply to, and feel rather lost. What are some things I should look for in a school? What questions do I ask? What research do I do? I already have things like max class size, programs for first-year teachers, and parental involvement on my list - what are some other (obvious and non-obvious) areas I should ask about? (I'm sending this same ask to a few #educhums; I promise I'm not spam!)

Big things for me:
What extracurricular clubs/teams exist? Can I form a new one? If so, what kind of support can I expect?

What can I expect from parent-teacher conferences? Everybody has an idea of what they look like, but schools do them verrrrry differently.

What duties do teachers do? At my school, teachers don’t have lunch duty and don’t have duty during planning, but do have before and after school duty for one quarter each year.

What supports exist for free/reduced lunch kids?

Do you get a classroom allowance for supplies?

What is community involvement like? Do community members cone into the school often?

There’s another question I thought of and forgot… if it comes to me, I’ll edit later.

After graduation, Ferguson went to Sullivan University in Louisville, Kentucky to further his pursuit of becoming a chef. However, he was met with disappointment after discovering his academic funding was only partial. Although excelling in Sullivan’s Culinary Arts program, he started selling drugs on the side to make ends meet.

Fortunately, he was able to graduate but continued to sell drugs & was arrested eight times in 3months. He lost everything he owned, including his place of residence, and eventually became homeless. 

“The last time getting locked up, I remembered being in class & them talking about being a statistic & how once you get in the system you can’t get out,” 

he said. “I started thinking that now I’m the guy that I didn’t want to be. That’s when I told myself that I was going to get serious about something I know that I can do, which is cooking.” He focused on opening his own restaurants. 

Ferguson named his pop-up restaurant SuperChefs, after his nickname throughout his culinary career & his time at 2008 Olympics in Beijing, China, where he was one of 22 chefs chosen. After a few years, the 28-year-old chef opened SuperChefs in June, in a 4,500-square-foot space. He now employs approximately 35 people.

Went from selling dope to being super dope! Real hero right there. Especially in the oppressive merican system.

In 2011, 39 year old Prisca enrolled as a patient in the MSF HIV/AIDS project in Zimbabwe. She was diagnosed with HIV in 2008 and became pregnant by her second husband in 2010, whom she had met at the project. She named her daughter, Shamiso and gave birth in January of 2011. In Shona, one of the widest spoken languages in Zimbabwe, Shamiso means ‘miracle’. And a miracle she was. When tested, Shamiso’s tests came back with a result that truly shocked Prisca – HIV negative. Because of that, Prisca even thought of having a second child with her husband.

Now Shamiso is 5 years old and is a fully healthy and functioning child, even attending school. 

“I had not known about MSF’s HIV program before I went and got tested but when I tested positive, I followed all the instructions I was given, but I still thought my child would be HIV positive. I had lost all hope but I got assistance and through that, I was able to give birth to an HIV negative child.”

I love how ‘real’ Toyonaga can be :>


And now I kind of understand how this show is going to make me cry. If Yuuri lost, it means no Victor, no pork cutlet bowl, and no eating pork cutlet bowl with Victor….

I lost over 100lbs, and cut off my hair. I can finally stop hiding my face. Still trying to lose the last 50 stubborn pounds. I won’t stop now.

anonymous asked:

The success of OL doesn't indicate Sam & Cait's future success in the industry either. As much as people talk about OL holding them back, it is very likely to be the biggest and best opportunity they ever get. I remember when Sarah Michelle Gellar started making films after Buffy and she went from being one of the most respected and sought after actors in TV to doing stinker after stinker in movies. She runs a start up now. OL is their shot and I don't think that fact is lost on either of them.

I think that they are both very aware of their futures and being seen and networking where the opportunities are available. I wouldn’t be surprised to see Sam at something this week, just like Cait. And in many ways is makes sense for them to attend alone, so that they are not overwhelming the event with Outlander and can mingle more.

Sam has also been very smart to not put all his eggs in the acting basket. His MPC program has been highly successful, and he clearly has entrepreneurial skills that he can market and develop a similar program later on as a primary source of income.

C: I recently turned 24 and feel so behind and lost right now. I graduated in May and moved to a new state for a fresh start in August and I’m starting to think I messed up. I just want to go to grad school and get my professional degree and start living. But all I’ve been doing is working. Idk how I’m going to go to grad school in a med program and work to sustain a living since I have no help from family. I wish I could live somewhere rent free while I go to grad school. I feel so stuck and lost.

anonymous asked:

FS being a competition obviously winning is the goal. However I feel the basic premise of combining the technical with the skating is being lost. We're seeing more and more quads and the ambition is brilliant & phenomenal to watch. But we're also seeing URs, lack of transitions & choreo etc. What do you think of this idea of sacrificing some of the basic components of a good skater in order to be a winner? Not meant to be hateful/controversial in any way btw & also not applying to all skaters

Well that is true. In order to do 5 quads in a program, the components are lost. Unless your name is Yuzuru Hanyu, of course. It’s exciting to watch all these crazy quads but I still prefer watching the likes of Takahashi, Lambiel or Buttle. I prefer watching the ladies now, though it gets boring when you know Evgenia Medvedeva’s gonna win everything.

One day I’m up, next day I’m down, then I’m up, then I’m down… and this time, when I go UP, I’m determined to stay there! Can you help me with that?

I’m Finn, and here’s my story.

First I was homeless and in the shelter. Then I was one of the superstars of a program where inmates in Lousiana correctional facilities train homeless dogs. I lived with my trainer 24/7 and learned all the things humans like: House-trained, crate-trained, leash-trained, come, sit, down, stay, drop it, and leave it. I have MAD SKILLZ, folks!

Then I was adopted, and it was HEAVEN… and then my human lost his home and couldn’t keep me anymore. Down I went again. :(

I’m at the shelter in Jefferson Parish, Louisiana, now, and am healthy, 3 years old, good with other dogs (I love our playgroups!), and very calm. But I am not happy here… not happy at all… and need to get adopted as soon as I can.

I hope you’ll help me get outta here for good by sharing me – there are lots of people in Louisina, and you must know one of them who would love me!

You or they can email to find out more or meet me.

Thank you, everybuddy!




Firstly, the Joker Game manga updates:

I’m finally back from my hiatus and have started working on the manga again. Joker Game chapter 12 should be up by the next day and following that a two chapter update for the D No Maou manga to make up for the lack of updates.

~Now, here’s a tiny update with the Joker Game project:

Having my finals (guess who’s finally done with her finals btw and just got her results)  stopped me from working on this game and I’ll be going back to working on it sometime in the next few days. But working on it brought me to tears as I had nearly lost all of my work but then I found an old copy I had saved before switching the programs so nothing was lost and I can’t begin to describe the happiness I got when I realised nothing was lost. Anyway, here’s a tiny screencap: 

(Kaminaga’s sprite was done by the wonderful @jlin-yukarin ♡ )

This is just a preview and I’m still working on the very first scene of the game so this preview, say for example the textbooks and fonts, are going to be different from the final version.

Anyway, would you please reblog this so more people can know about this project and we can have more artists taking part in this? There are still two more spots open for the characters and if I get responses from more than two, I can add additional characters that I’ve kept aside for now but would be a nice addition to the game if we were to get more people involved.

Now, for all the artists that have taken part already:

I’ve just checked tumblr today so I’ll get back to all your messages later. For those who’ve sent me their sprites and I haven’t responded, I checked my email today and saw all of them and they’re all perfect, and I’ll be sending you a message again just to confirm that I did indeed get it. For everyone else, take your time with drawing your sprites, I just ask that you send me an estimation of when you think you’ll be done with them. If I’ve already talked to you about this and if you’ve sent me a message about any sort of delay, then no need to send me a message again and I won’t be sending you a message about this. And finally, thank you for taking part!

Lastly, here’s the tag for the game if you’re interested in keeping up with it.
(is anything making sense in this post?? it’s three am now and I need sleep so just ignore any mistakes and anything not making sense.)


5. Last session of our leadership program today before our final presentations and graduation next month.  One of the two (white male) presenters today went on and on about how men are discriminated against, too.  He lost a gig training a group of women because he was a man!  

That must have been horrible for you, I deadpanned.

It was! he said sincerely.

I didn’t punch him, so.  Also, the cohort nominated me to be the graduation speaker. Now to pull together 100 leadership quotes and string them all together because today we were told it’s not content, it’s delivery.

Eyeroll dot gif.

4. 1600 Pennsylvania devastates me daily. The bullshit with press briefings is the icing on a horrible week (I see you, trans friends. I stand with you.) should have everyone out in the streets in front of the West Wing, screaming for transparency. But it won’t.  Related, Pete Souza’s Instagram gives me life. His trolling game is incredibly on point whose first gig as WH photographer was for Reagan back in the day.

3. I got a headlamp for Christmas, and Wednesday morning was the first time temperatures and road/sidewalk conditions were such that I felt comfortable running outside and using it.  Super good for safety and visibility.  Super bad for my health in that I realized how many critters are right next to me as I run along those dark country roads. Critters with glittering demon eyes. Like when I turned my head to the left and the lamp caught the eyes of six deer waiting to devour my soul.  No one hears you scream at 4:25 a.m. when you are running down a dark country road.  You know, in case you were wondering.

2. I have said it before and I’ll say it again, we had a bit of a rocky start those many years ago but I am grateful daily for the man who is my BFF and partner. Couldn’t do what I do without him, couldn’t have made the shift to the current role without his full support.  Like when you gchat him after saying you’d take next Friday off to hang with boys out of school to ask him to cover (again) because a meeting with the gov got schedule and he just says yes. I owe him about a billion times over for all the different leaps of faith. I’m so lucky to have him at my six, you guys.

1.  We were supposed to get a ton of snow overnight, and I woke up to brown grass.  Truthfully? Not even a little sad about it.

Have a good weekend, friends. Be excellent to each other.

anonymous asked:

Hey I was wondering if you could help me with something. I took 2 or 3 years of sign language through a program at my high school and through CC. Now I'm a server and occasionally I get a D/deaf person at my table. I've lost some of my proficiency but I can still communicate decently. If the Deaf person has a hearing person who signs with them should I let that hearing person interpert for me or do you think it'd be okay if I signed to them? I don't want to offend anyone. Thanks:) love your page

Honestly, we prefer the server to communicate with us and not rely on another ‘hearing’ person. You are asking (example) me the order NOT my friend. it’s yours and mine conversation. We honestly, appreciate people trying their best to communicate with us and not looking/depending on another person. I get so annoyed that once someone figure outs there a hearing person, that server/person(insert job position here) will depend on the hearing individual who CAN speak. It makes the conversation so isolating and kind of rude.

I get excited when I find someone who knows the basics of signs. Even please/thank-you/water and other signs/vocabulary connected to your working environment. 
If you don’t know a sign, Fingerspell it and we will happily show you it. But don’t FS E-v-e-r-y S-i-n-g-l-e W-o-r-d… not helpful. Don’t know a sign, point to the picture or FS (in this particular scenario) 

  • Hoseok: 200 METRES! STOP NOW! YOU'RE THERE! CONGRATULATIONS! *indeterminate loud noises*
  • Taehyung: *directs you to take long and illogical routes just so you make a smiley face on the GPS screen*
  • Jin: In 200 metres you will reach your destination but keep going because there's a really good chicken place just down the road.
  • Jimin: *when you start the car* Hey! You turned me on! Now let me turn you on.
  • Namjoon: In 200 metres you will reach your destination. But have you really reached your destination in life? Only time will tell.
  • Yoongi: What are you looking at me for? I'm just a fucking machine. *self powers off*
  • Jungkook: Why are we moving? Are we going somewhere? 0_0

*ten seconds in* Mum: how long before someone starts crying.
Shelagh. Bless your.
Delia you are queen.
Nurse Crane you show them cubs who is boss, librarian and friend to all.
Mum: They’re always having babies in this program
Mum: is this call the midwife or long lost family?
GOLRIA!!! Let me hug you.
I can’t even. This program 😭

The Cruise

I remember reading this when I was first getting into gaining. Ever since then I’ve always wanted to go on a cruise and get enormously, shockingly fat.

The Cruise

author unknown

This is the story of how I got fat. It’s a little like one of those stories you read in women’s magazines –you know the ones that always seem to be in the waiting room at the doctor’s office–they tell the inspiring story of some woman who has lost the equivalent of another person in weight. The reader’s main curiosity is always “Well how did you get so damn big in the first place you fat cow?” but the main focus of the story is how Jane or Jill or whoever went through some crisis in their life, got fat, then started a diet and fitness program and now there’s a “new woman” staring at you from the pages of the magazine.

Except my story is not quite like that. Firstly, I’m a man, and a young man at that–well, I just turned 28. Secondly, there wasn’t any great life crisis that led to me overeating or losing control of my body. Thirdly, there is no second half to my story, no defining turning point, no apocalyptic bed breaking, and certainly no crash diet and fitness program.

So why I am I telling you this? Well, maybe because it kind of fascinates me. It fascinates me how thin people in society look at fat people and how they’re judged –like they’re a separate species—a lazy, ignorant, indulgent other species. Slender people wander around eyeing fat people up and down and wondering “how did they get like that?” “Didn’t they like grow out of one size of clothes and think ‘Hey, I must slow down on the eating here’?” I know this partly because I used to be thin myself and partly because being a man rather than a woman, friends and relatives haven’t been frightened of coming up to me in the past year or so and making similar comments to me as I’ve put on weight.

I’ve seen it from both sides; for most of my life, I had been slender and toned but for the past 18 months something happened to my body so gradually at first that for most of the time I never even noticed it happen. Yes, that’s right–I gained more than 100 lbs and never really noticed how I changed in that time. Is it because I’m a man? I don’t know, but read my story and you can judge for yourself.

Two years ago, I was 26 and didn’t have a care in the world. I was working for a big firm in New York City. This is the place where greed is good. Taking a break for lunch is for wimps, and money definitely makes the world go round.

I had a good job for my age and was earning a pretty good salary. I’d managed to get myself onto the expensive Manhattan property ladder with a nice co-op apartment not far from work, which I share with my girlfriend of five years.

One day I came into the office to bad news. Our company was going to be bought by a much bigger corporation. It was almost a certainty that we would lose our jobs. The mood was subdued and soon after we were told, corridor gossip gave a strong indication that everyone was going to get out of there pretty quickly and find other jobs before the axe fell. But, it was a pretty good company and I worked in a division that was going to be needed right up until the moment when the new owners actually took over. Only a few days later I was taken to one side by my boss.

“How are you feeling about the takeover?” he asked. I explained that I was a little worried about the future, but to be honest, the reality of the situation had not kicked in by then. He continued “as you’ve probably guessed, we’re probably going to be all out on our asses in six months or so, but that shouldn’t be a bad thing for those that don’t panic. You’re going to be key in making sure that our business stays in good shape, and because of that, we’ve agreed that you, along with a few other key people, will receive a substantial termination package plus an excellent recommendation for a future job if you stick it out to the end.”

I could feel dollar signs appearing in my eyes like characters in a cartoon. The figure they had in mind was $350,000 and that was an offer that no one my age could refuse. A deal was done and I signed on the bottom line only days later.

Well, they weren’t wrong when they said I was crucial to the process. My workload shot up. I was getting to work earlier and earlier, struggling to find time to go out for lunch, and leaving the office later and later. The thought of that money kept me going.

But there were sacrifices. Within a few weeks I realized I just hadn’t made time to go to the gym at all–and I was almost compulsive in my approach to working out until then. I felt guilty and made myself promises to go more often, but the workload increased and the promises came to nothing. I didn’t realize it then (of course), but my eating patterns were changing also. Instead of a morning gym visit, I was taking a couple of egg McMuffins to my desk for breakfast. Rather than lunch, I was grabbing snacks every half hour or so from the vending machine in the corridor. Finally, at the end of a long day, I was too tired to even think about cooking, and knowing that I was going to be able to afford anything I wanted, I was either eating out with my girlfriend or picking up a pizza or some Chinese take-out to eat at home before I crashed into bed as early as possible, thoroughly exhausted.

The consequences were obvious but you have to believe me when I say I never noticed at the time. My trim gym-trained 175 lbs and 6’ frame with a 32” waistline grew to about 198 lbs. I guess that’s not a lot over a six month period. I did notice that I was a little less fit than I had been and since my weight was gained all over (thighs and ass as well as belly), I didn’t develop a huge paunch or anything. Size 34 pants were snug on me now, but that wasn’t really something that I thought about. My girlfriend never said a word about it.

But 198 lbs isn’t huge when you’ve been working out like I had been so I kind of drifted along. By the time it came time to leave work forever, no one had commented and I really had gained only about 23 lbs. And there’s not much difference at all between a 32” waist and a 34” waist, right?

By this time, my gym membership for the year had expired and I decided not to renew it. It was expensive and besides I wasn’t going to need it for another four months–I was going traveling!

My girlfriend and I had made the decision one night watching a special on cruises on the Food Network (and eating pizza—looking back, I guess the signs of what was to come are easy to read)–and we’d use part of my termination package to give ourselves the holiday of a lifetime before settling back into hectic New York City life.

Traveling isn’t quite the right word, though. To me at least, that word conjures up visions of retirees wearing clothes from Walmart standing in line at the airport waiting to board a jet with their tour group, waiting to be packed into economy-class seats like sardines waiting for the canning process.

That wasn’t for us. I was 26, quite rich and successful, and I wanted some luxury after all the stress I’d been under, so we chose a four month round the world cruise; no expense spared, luxury outside suite, full board buffet and dinner, great sporting facilities and docking in some of the most amazing places in the world. There was to be no sparing of expenses!

So we set off and within days we were in warmer weather and able to make use of the sundeck and pool. Well that was the idea. I had to wait until we’d docked at Bermuda a few days later because rather embarrassingly I couldn’t squeeze into any of the shorts I’d brought with me. When you’re barely fitting into your suits you don’t realize that it’s much harder to do the same with some of your other clothes—no one tells you that if you put on some weight the drawstring-waist shorts won’t even go past your thighs and over your ass, no matter how much you breathe in. I had been so busy at work for months that I hadn’t had any free time to wear the casual clothes I packed to bring on the cruise and so I didn’t realize that I had outgrown them.

New clothes bought, it didn’t take long to settle down and relax. After Bermuda, our ship headed to northern and western Europe and then to the Mediterranean. The stops at famous cities were almost an unwanted distraction such was the luxury we grew accustomed to on board. I’d had good intentions of using the well-equipped gym and getting back into my good habits, but to be honest, I found my first trip there such hard work and so stressful that I decided not to worry about it and just enjoy the vacation–the gym could wait until I got back–this was time to go easy and indulge myself.

And go easy on myself I did. I’d never seen so much food. Breakfast and lunch were huge elaborate buffet spreads that ran for about 40 feet and dinner in the evening was a lavish affair that you had to dress up for. It usually consisted of seven courses and took the form of leisurely multi-course meals of big portions that lasted for like three hours. It’s almost as if they wanted you to gain weight. The evening meals got you used to sitting and eating for hours while the rest of the time the limitless supply of tempting fresh food kept pushing back the limits of your stomach’s capacity. There was also a midnight buffet, which was another version of the breakfast and lunch extravaganzas. Plus, the ship had a number of cafes and snack bars open 24 hours a day, just in case any of the increasingly dedicated eaters suffered a stray hunger pang.

There were lots of knowing jokes and smiles about this among the male passengers, who seemed to care less than their slim wives about letting out their belts after meals. Indeed I found I was starting to challenge myself to see if I could eat more than the previous day–and with little else to do I would spend hours at the buffet sampling as many different dishes as possible. It was certainly more pleasurable than straining and sweating in the gym!

It wasn’t long before the new clothes I’d had to buy in Bermuda were experiencing the same problem as the old ones I’d had to discard. Seams were popped, stitching ripped, zippers burst open. When we made a stop in Lisbon I had to admit defeat and almost buy a whole new wardrobe just so I could get through a meal without having to discretely unbutton my pants, and that was after only three weeks.

I was packing on the weight and I was starting to notice things change in my body but without ever putting all of the evidence together. More than once I got ready for dinner and bent down to put my shoes on to hear a loud rip from my trousers. I began to notice that my body seemed to jiggle independently of the steps I took as I went down stairs, and then soon when I simply walked on deck. I remember guessing after about a month that I must have put on about 10 lbs and thinking “well, that’s not so bad, you’re going to hit the gym anyway when you get back.”

But it didn’t stop there. While I fixed in my mind that on the whole holiday I’d probably gained twenty pounds at most, I was seriously deceiving myself. At almost every port, new clothes had to be bought to replace polo shirts that would ride up and expose my ever rounder pot belly, button front shirts that had had the buttons popped on them, belts that no longer went all the way around me, trousers which if I could with much effort fasten the waist, I couldn’t pull the zipper up, and shorts which I couldn’t fit over my thighs and ass, much less attempt to fasten at the waist. I knew I was buying bigger size clothes, to be sure, but the clothes were all marked in foreign sizes, so my ever-increasing weight didn’t really register.

But still I kept eating–day in, day out, two hours at the buffet in the morning, three hours at lunch, and then the big dinner in the evening, with a final top-off at the midnight buffet. The more I ate, the hungrier I became as my capacity increased—and then there were the beers I was putting away in the evening, not having to worry about going to work with a hangover the next day. And who can drink a few beers without having some snacks to go with them?

The only hangover I was getting was the one over my belt. I was getting seriously big, but strangely it felt good. I felt manly and powerful and was proud of my little belly. I say little belly because our suite did have a mirror in it, but I seriously didn’t notice the gradual change in my body from one day to the next. My mind wasn’t on how big I was growing—it was a gradual process, after all, and I confess my main thoughts were on two things—sex with my girl friend and what delicious items to eat would be served that day at the buffets and at dinner. I have to confess that on many days, sex with my girlfriend came in a second to my eating. And, looking back, no matter how often we had sex I didn’t burn up enough calories to counterbalance the huge amount I was eating.

I knew I was “filling out” a little, but fat? No, no way. Chunky, maybe. But fat? I had never had to worry about my weight before and I suppose I just never expected that I could become fat. So, it wasn’t until I got home that I realized what I had done to myself.

Without any friends to kid me about my growing size or any concerned relatives to point out that I was getting big, I ate myself around the world. Even after a romp with my girl friend, I’d almost be sexually excited about going to the buffet, my round stomach growling with anticipation of what delicious items would be served and how much of that delicious food I’d be able to eat.

And so, the months on board passed. Eating, sex, eating, sleeping, and eating. I stuffed mouthful after mouthful into my eager mouth. My mouth still waters when I think of the dinners—Beef, pork, chicken, and fish, all served with rich gourmet gravies and sauces—creamed and richly-sauced vegetables—potatoes prepared in every way imaginable, always enriched with butter, cream, or cheese—biscuits and dinner rolls slathered with butter—tortes, cakes and all sorts of rich desserts. All the other meals, as well as the “open 24/7” snack bar, were the same. At dinner, I became so fond of the rich hollandaise sauce that I would take large portions of broccoli or asparagus so that I could pour huge amounts of the hollandaise on the veggies, then sop up the remaining sauce with buttered pieces of dinner roll after the veggies were in my growing tummy. If I could have gotten away with licking the plates in public, I would have!

My girlfriend, having put on more than a few happy pounds herself, didn’t want any attention being drawn to that, so she made a point of not saying anything to me about my expanding figure.

I could see my face had filled out a little and I knew my waist had expanded some, but I didn’t realize what my size was anymore because when I bought new clothes. I just tried things on until I found something that fit, and like I said, the sizes were not the American ones I was used to. Anyway, I guess I was in happy denial.

Nor were there any scales on board either–something to do with them not working on a surface that’s moving such as the ship. My girlfriend took pictures almost every day, but I didn’t pay much attention to them until we had returned home and I was reliving that wonderful trip in my memories, and recalling particularly delicious things prepared by the expert chefs on board.

When months later I finally did look at the album of pictures, I could see the record of how my belly was ballooning in all directions until it met my chest, grown saggy and fat from months of indulgence. My pecs, once tight and trained, grew bloated, puffy, and soft and heading south to sit comfortably on the top ledge of my round belly. My entire body had become smooth and sleek, except where creases separated the ever-expanding rolls and bulges.

My ass, too, had become a bulging large and round cushion for all this extra weight when I sat down, although I still actually didn’t realize this at the time because my mind was on other things—namely, the next meal!

That realization came, if I can call it that, when the cruise ended. Tanned, happy, and (at least for me) very well fed, we taxied back from the pier to our Manhattan apartment in the late evening. The first shock came when I got up the next day to go out and buy milk, bread, and some breakfast fixings. My mouth started watering as I contemplated stopping at McDonald’s for some sausage and egg Mcmuffins–or should it be sausage and egg Mcgriddles?–with a couple of cinnamon buns on the side to tide me over until I got home and my girlfriend could prepare my real breakfast. Without thinking, I went to the closet to put on some warm clothes (it was now winter). These were clothes I hadn’t taken with me, and what’s more they were getting snug before we left, remember.

Anyway, after many minutes of fruitless struggle, it slowly dawned on me just how big I’d become and with my jeans only halfway up my legs and my girlfriend still sleeping sounding, I shuffled into the hallway to look at myself in the full length mirror.

I was at once shocked and strangely excited by what I saw in the full length mirror. Reality was a shock! Standing opposite me in the mirror was a fat man. Big round pillows of fat puffed up and drooped on my chest where hard pecs had once stood. A huge pendulous belly sagged swollen from my torso running into big rolls of soft fat around the sides.

Still in shock I turned sideways and shuffled out of the jeans now round my ankles. My lovehandles ballooned outwards as they merged into a mass of backfat, and quivered at my slightest movement. My ass had swelled amazingly and now looked like two beachballs. I ran my hands along my body, checking through touch that the image I was seeing in front of me was not some kind of weird distortion. My hands told me that what I saw in the mirror was real. My flab jiggled, quivered, and rippled as I ran my hands up from my belly to my chest and pinched the double chin of fat beneath my jowly face.

My god, I was huge! What had I done to myself? I stood there in shock and awe for what seemed like ages. I worried momentarily about what my girlfriend would say when she saw me so fat, before I realized that she’d seen me like this; she’d seen me GET like this…and she hadn’t said a word.

With a deep sigh I waddled into the bathroom to face the bathroom scales. Despite the shock, I was experiencing strange feelings. I wasn’t repulsed by my body in the way I would have expected to be if you had asked me a year earlier about how I’d feel if this happening to me. I was almost excited to find out just what the scales had to say and imagined the needle would swing round to about 215 lbs, but then I caught my reflection in the bathroom mirror again and revised the estimate to prepare myself for the worst. “You’re going to weigh 225”, I said to myself and at the same moment stepped gingerly onto the scales and looked up to see my reflection while the needle settled into position and I looked down.

My knees shuddered as my eyes settled on the dial, making the needle wobble again so that I was convinced that it was that shake that was giving the reading I was now seeing. I stiffened in order to stabilize the reading and looked down again.

283 pounds.—incredible! I’d put on 85 pounds during the four months of the cruise. I’d become an eating machine, gorging through plate after plate after plate with no regard to my size, and this is what had happened. The slender gym-trained body had been buried beneath pounds and pounds of bloated, flabby fat.

By now, though, my thoughts were quickly diverted. I hadn’t eaten since the last meal on board ship, 18 hours before, and my original intention in getting out of bed was to find food. My stomach growled and I felt a strange sensation—hunger pangs! I wandered into the bedroom quietly to find my old gym sweatpants and a big sweatshirt. I struggled to put them on, and was embarrassed to see how the sweatpants clung to my distended buttocks and huge thighs like a second skin, and the sweatshirt emphasized my fat upper arms, sagging man boobs, thick lovehandles and deeply sunken bellybutton. They’d have to do if I wanted to get breakfast. I headed out the door, stopped at McDonald’s for a nice filling breakfast, then went to the nearest corner grocery for some essentials as I contemplated what had happened to me. I must tell you, though, that the thought of going on a diet never crossed my mind, even that first morning of my awareness that I had become a fat man. I suppose I was proud of my transformation. After all, no one could have caused this to happen to me but me, and I had done it!

Compared to my old self, I was a whale, and now I realized how big I was I began to notice other things which must have been there but I ignored… like how hard it was to tie my shoes, walk up stairs, or even move quickly. The list goes on.

But, as I said, the idea of losing weight never crossed my mind. When I left our apartment to run errands—or, I should say, lumber around , since running was something that I no longer considered doing— or, I admit, head to McDonalds, I noticed how many other young men in Manhattan were fat, some fatter than me. As a thin man, I had never noticed them at all. Now, I felt like I was part of a fraternity, the brotherhood of the young and fat. It was a great feeling!

But, back to my story. My girlfriend and I both decided to apply for jobs. We had a substantial amount of my separation package left, but I knew it wouldn’t last forever, especially with the food bills I was racking up now. After we returned from the cruise, we spent two weeks just relaxing and getting used again to the hectic Manhattan lifestyle.

One of my first stops was to a tailor to buy a bigger suit so that I could start applying for new jobs. I was by now not surprised to discover I had a 46" waist. It must have been about 44" when I got back, but to be honest, after I arrived home I lounged around the apartment, watching TV, always with a big plate of food balanced atop my bulging belly. I had plenty of my termination pay left; why seek a job immediately? The day I finally got off my ever-widening big fat behind to go looking for a new suit, I got on the scales again. They told me I was nudging 295 lbs already. My capacity for food was now much greater and what could have sustained me for a day previously could now barely pass for a starter.

Maybe because I was now waddling around like a true fat boy, it took longer to find a new job than I thought–three months in fact, during which time my weight continued to rise. The suit I bought for interviews was no good for my first day in my new job. With many lazy days with only a fridge full of food and daytime TV and my computer for company while I waited for responses to my job applications, I’d managed to pack on another 50 lbs. The new suit I purchased to wear on my first day on the job had a 58" chest and 52" waist. The seat of the trousers had to be specially let out to accommodate my big round ass and wide hips. I was growing at an alarming rate now. Not surprising when I looked at what I was eating in a typical day. I had grown to love eating and the nice, satisfied feeling a full tummy gave me, so I ate my way through the day. In between meals, I was always snacking and munching on something tasty without even realizing what I was doing. I admit I was proud of my huge appetite.

So in 18 months, my weight had grown from 175 to 345. And I was happy. My sex life with my girlfriend (now soon to be my wife) had never been better. I think she secretly prefers me bigger which is weird but exciting. She’s never tried to wean me onto healthy foods, and we’ve continued as before. She never lost the 20 or so pounds she put on during our cruise and has gained another 20 or so since we returned. She’s my no means as obese as I am, but her new chubbiness is a nice complement to my impressive bulk and her expanded boobs and behind add to her sexiness.

My gain has slowed down now, kind of leveled out, but I’m still getting bigger slowly. Right now I’m a little over 365 lbs and I have to go to a special tailor for my suits, but I can afford it. Being measured for new suits is always an exciting experience for me. Standing in the fitting room in my skintight boxer shorts, surrounded by mirrors which are angled to provide a complete view, gives me the perspective of my growing form which I never had when we were on the cruise. My broad shoulders, their width expanded by the flab on my upper arms; pillowy chest with bulging, sagging former pecs; ballooning pendulous belly; lovehandles like thick truck tires wrapping around my back, topped by smaller rolls of fat; and plump thighs and calves are testimony to my ever-increasing appetite. Most amazing to me, the former gym addict, is my ass—two huge buttocks, jiggling, quivering, bobbing and moving from side to side within my stressed 5XL boxers as the tailor has me shift position to complete the measurements for my newest suit. Each part of my body bulges separately and seems to have a life of its own. I feel proud, realizing that I alone take credit for all the development. My stretch marks, like bright red lines on a road map, are testimony to the speed of my growth.

When they first saw me after my return from the cruise, my friends and relatives were shocked but silent. I think because my weight gain was so big and so sudden, friends, ex-colleagues, and relatives were at first too shocked or too embarrassed for me to mention my colossal weight increase the way most people will. Let’s face it, I really had packed on the pounds. But, seeing me continue to gain yet more weight as time went on of course meant that my friends and relations got more comfortable making comments about my size–both within earshot and directly to me. I’ve lost count of the amount of times I’ve overheard “My god, John’s just getting bigger and bigger, what’s happening to him?” and “John’s really letting himself go, he doesn’t seem to care, look at the size of him, he’s turned into such a porker!.”

I don’t care. Like I say, I’m happy—fat and happy. My new work colleagues have only ever known me fat. It’s weird to think that they think of me as a fat guy. When some of them came to our apartment for dinner one night recently they were silently stunned by a photo of me from two years ago they saw framed in the bookcase in the hall. I could hear them whispering in hushed tones, debating whether that could really be me, but failing to pluck up the courage to ask as they entered the room whether that was me or a twin brother who has somehow been given skinnier genes than me.

My increasing weight has actually been a plus on my new job. My boss has told me a number of times that I have a “presence” that impresses subordinates and clients, as well as the higher-ups. My expense account, used to entertain clients and pay for working lunches, has been a help in paying for some of my enormous lunches (enormous to others–just a regular meal now to me).

My girlfriend and I will be getting married in six months so I’ll be faced with looks of horror from seldom-seen relatives when they see me at the reception. But, I confess I don’t care. As I said earlier, I’m happy to be a new member of the fraternity of the fat. No matter where you live, take a look around you the next time you go out. You’ll see my fraternity brothers everywhere, and I bet you’ll agree that most of them look happy, just like me—fat, happy, satisfied, and proud!

omg pls

End me omg


Ok I know I’m not on here much and I have lost quite a few followers but that’s ok I’m worried about it if I lost all of my followers I do understand I can’t post much as of right now I had an anon ask saying “ I’m unfollowing you because you don’t post anything now” well sorry dude that I’m in a program expanding my life sources and learning a lot of things so I can have a lot in my work line so yeah if you unfollow me it’s fine you do you just don’t send me questions of anything saying your doing it because to me it’s like you are trying to hurt my cause but you really aren’t so yeah just had to say this

Originally posted by mariaslittlestuff

me-inmywords  asked:

Hi! I'm student teaching now and starting to look for schools to apply to, and feel rather lost. What are some things I should look for in a school? What questions do I ask? What research do I do? I already have things like max class size, programs for first-year teachers, and parental involvement on my list - what are some other (obvious and non-obvious) areas I should ask about? (I'm sending this same ask to a few #educhums; I promise I'm not spam!)

Hello, and welcome to the ranks

I always like to ask about the process for getting a book or class approved (it tells you all about the red tape you might encounter) and I pay attention to the types of questions they ask me.

For example, one school I interviewed for asked about classroom management and discipline (specifically how I handle referrals to the office), which is a common enough concern, but to include it in the interview told me that there might be a problem in the school. This was confirmed when I said that I try to handle discipline in-house and rarely write referrals and the administrator said to the teachers on the panel, “see? It is possible”

I also pay attention to the vibe I get from the panel and the school. Do people seem happy? Do they banter with each other? Do I feel comfortable here? A school I don’t feel comfortable in from the get-go is not somewhere I want to be every day.

Good luck and happy hunting.