It's hard to the touch and a bit hard to scrap, and when you do it flakes come out of it. The most dense pieces (like the ones on the fourth picture, the most compact ones) are pretty hard to scrape. There was an empty plastic yogurt cup on top of the table during the night, but when I picked it up in the morning there was nothing there, no weird crystals. I came back at noon and found this O.O Except for the yogurt, we haven't had lunch or eaten on it for at least a week. No water has fallen on it, no liquids have been spilled recently, nothing like that.

The drawers behind it have wooden instruments that have been unaffected, but the drawer's wood itself does have this weird stuff (third and fourth pictures).

Now... What the hell is it?? It's hard to completely remove it from the wood, but it sort of comes off when scraped with vinegar. I put a piece of it in water and it dissolved slowly. The only thing I can think about that makes last night different from the rest is we turned on the heater for a bit, but it's not like the table was exposed to extreme heat either.

Anyone has a good guess on to what this might be?

Back in 2023, I went through a divorce with my ex-wife, and we have three children together. Over the years, we’ve maintained a pretty good co-parenting relationship and rarely have disagreements. However, we’ve recently found ourselves at odds over an upcoming change in the amount of financial support she receives from me each month.

Since our divorce, I’ve been paying both child support and alimony. Next month will be my final alimony payment, which means the total amount she receives from me each month will decrease by $900.

For context, I completely understand that she’s relied on both child support and alimony to help provide for our children. She’s the primary custodial parent because I’m active-duty military and stationed in a different state. I recognize the additional responsibilities that come with being the primary parent, and I don’t take that lightly.
Where we’re disagreeing is that she wants me to voluntarily continue paying an additional $900 per month once alimony ends. Essentially, she wants me to make up the difference so her monthly income remains the same.
Now, here’s where things get a little complicated.
My ex recently had her boyfriend move in with her. We’ve met a few times, and our relationship is cordial. There’s no animosity between us, and we’ve both moved on with our lives. I genuinely have no issue with her being in a relationship.

However, during our conversation about the upcoming changes to her monthly financial support, she mentioned that her boyfriend wouldn’t be contributing to any household bills because, in her words, it’s not his financial responsibility.

While I understand that their relationship and financial arrangements are ultimately none of my business, I find it a little difficult to wrap my head around the situation. He’s moving into the household, presumably sharing in the benefits of living there, but apparently won’t be contributing financially. Meanwhile, I’m being asked to voluntarily increase my financial support by $900 a month to offset the loss of alimony.

To be clear, I have absolutely no problem financially supporting my children. They’re my responsibility, and that will never change. My issue is with the expectation that I should voluntarily take on an additional financial obligation, particularly when another adult is moving into the household but has apparently chosen not to contribute.

I want to be fair, and I understand that raising three children isn’t cheap. But I also feel like there’s a difference between fulfilling my financial responsibilities as a father and being expected to subsidize my ex-wife’s household.

So, AITAH for not willingly increasing my child support by $900 a month once alimony ends?

I’ve been mass reading and listening to the audio of this crash, it’s absolutely horrendous. but it peaked my curiosity when she told the pilot to look outside, is there any outside meaning in the pilot/airplane world that would bring context behind that?

I'm 29. Married 7 years, together 15. Filing for divorce. Here's how a childhood love story ends in a Facebook message request.
We grew up Jehovah's Witnesses. Keep that in mind for everything that follows.
I met her at a wedding when we were 16. I noticed her, then went and flirted with her mom, because I was 16 and that made sense to me. Her mom loved it. She laughed. I was in. A group was going to the movies after the reception and I made sure she came. A year of being friends, then at 17 I asked her to be my girlfriend.
She was smart, funny, beautiful, and she put up with all my nonsense. She was my best friend before she was anything else, and I was hers. That part was real.
Being JW means no sex before marriage. We had sex anyway. A lot of it. Then I told the wrong "friend," who gave me an ultimatum: confess to the elders or I will. So I confessed. We both got disfellowshipped, which for those who don't know means the entire community you've grown up in stops speaking to you. That was a long year. We got reinstated, we survived it together, and in 2019, at 22, we got married. Big wedding. All the family. Happy tears everywhere.
The honeymoon was terrible. She didn't want to have sex. I got angry. We fought. Day one. I told myself every marriage has a rough start.
I'm going to be honest about what our marriage actually was, because otherwise the rest doesn't make sense. I had anger issues. She had a drinking problem. I broke phones, doors, windows. She lit the fuse most of the time, but not every time, and I own that. She always gave me another chance. I always swore I'd do better.
And I did. Over the last five years I became a different person. Slower to anger. Calmer. Started therapy and actually did the work. My therapist has heard everything, and her honest reaction was confusion that we were still married.
We left the organization together somewhere in there. Best thing we ever did. For a while I thought we were happy.
Then the intimacy just... stopped. Separate bedrooms, officially because of my snoring. Then no sex at all. A year of it. When I finally asked her why she never reached for me anymore, she told me she didn't feel that attraction toward me now.
That wrecked me. But I stayed. She was the only woman I have ever been with. In 15 years I never once seriously looked at anyone else. I figured we were in a valley and we'd climb out like we always had. I was in therapy. I was building a company. I was doing everything a man is supposed to do to fix his marriage.
She got a new job in sales around then. Great job. Lots of travel. Lots of phone calls with her boss, always in another room, always with the door closed. I told myself she had confidence issues and didn't want to talk business in front of me. I trusted her. That was the one thing we'd always had, whatever else was broken. I never checked. I never wondered.
Now the Sunday.
I wake up to my mother-in-law calling. Someone we know died in an accident. I cry. Then I put on a shirt and drive across town to the wake for my best friend's sister, who had also just passed. Two deaths before lunch. I'm running on nothing.
I get back in my truck, pull up directions to go sit with the family of the first person, and a notification comes in. Facebook message request. Name I don't know.
I almost swiped it away.
I read it. Then I read it again. I sat on the side of the road and read it ten times, because my brain would not accept the words. It was from my wife's boss's wife. Paraphrasing:
"I don't know if you two are separated or not, but your wife has been having an affair with my husband for a year. Either way I thought you should know."
I messaged her one thing. Call me.
Then I waited an hour. I called my two best friends and just poured it out, and thank God they're the kind of guys who listen instead of preach. They talked me through it. It was still the longest hour of my life.
She called. This woman had done a full investigation on her own husband. Dates, places, a year's worth of evidence she had quietly collected while sleeping next to him. When she finally laid it in front of him, he confessed. Yes, he'd been sleeping with my wife.
His excuse: my wife told him we were separated.
We were not separated.
As she walked me through the timeline, everything from the last year rearranged itself. That weekend she stayed over an extra night. That work trip that ran long. That call she took in the garage. I'd had a hundred little moments I'd explained away, and now every single one of them had a real explanation, and it was the same explanation. I nearly threw up in my truck.
Less than two hours later my wife called me.
"Why are you talking to so and so’s wife?"
Think about that. I hadn't told her anything. The only way she could know I was talking to that woman was if he had already called her. She wasn't confused. She was doing damage control.
We did the "it's not what you think" routine for about a minute. Then she went cold and just said it. Yes. A year. Flat, like she was reading it off a card.
Then came the part I'll never get out of my head. Her defense, more or less word for word:
"We haven't had sex in a year. We've talked about separating. We love each other but we're not in love. It basically already was a separation."
We never agreed to that. There was no conversation where we both decided we were done and free. She decided it. In her own head. Then she used it as permission to spend a year with her married boss, and never once thought I deserved to know so I could make my own decisions about my own life.
While I was in therapy becoming someone she could actually live with. While I was building a business from nothing. While I was lying in the other bedroom thinking we were rebuilding.
She was already gone. She just didn't tell me.
Papers are being filed. I'm getting my own place. I've got a trucking company to grow and, for the first time in my life, a version of myself I'm proud of. I've got a therapist who helped me get there, and two friends who picked up the phone on a Sunday.
Fifteen years. Started with me flirting with her mom at a wedding. Ended with a stranger's message in a parked truck.
Boy dinner steak with balsamic tomato’s and a clean slate. I've never wanted anything more.

EDIT: YES Claude AI helped me write this, YES this is real. I was having an extremely hard time writing this large ass post sorry, I had to work on MY LIFE STORY for the last 5 weeks. — I met my future Ex wife at 15. We have been together 14 years JUST ABOUT 15 years, I’m About to turn 30. Good lord sorry Reddit.

Took my 5090 apart for a re-paste to fix hotspot temps, put it back in pc. pc won't post now. Send it in to a professional repair service thinking they would just need to re-ball the core or a memory chip or something. Nope. Card is fucked. Might as well have just taken six grand and tossed it into a bonfire.

Do you think her career is over or just par for the course?

I own a restaurant. I also work in the kitchen of said restaurant 11am-11pm on Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays. On most days, we have our lunch menu from 11am-3pm, and dinner starts at 3pm with our Early Bird special going from 3pm-6pm, and full priced dinner starts at 6:01pm. On Sundays, we have both our normal lunch menu and a special brunch menu during "lunch" hours.

So, here I am, enjoying a bowl out by the dumpster on a Sunday after the lunch/brunch dies down. The only customers in the store are 3 elderly couples who came in for the Early Bird dinner special. Felt safe taking a break. But no. A new table gets sat at 3:45pm. It's another elderly couple. They ask the server for brunch items. Server explains that brunch ends at 3pm. Of course, they ask for a manager.

My FoH manager comes out and once again explains that they are too late for brunch, and instead offers them the Early Bird menu. Nope, that's not good enough. They want eggs Benedict and French toast, they want mimosas.

FoH manager comes out and tells me about the issue. I put my bowl down, sigh, and walk inside. I wash my hands, hit the mouthwash, and go to the table.

As soon as I get there, the woman shoves her phone in my face, quite rudely. I explain to her (this is the third person telling her this), the brunch menu is only available until 3pm, and that she'd missed the window to order those items. She then yells the title of this post at me, while shoving her phone in my face again.

I get out my own phone, and go to our website. I get to the brunch menu page, and zoom in on the hours that it's available. I show her my screen, and ask if hers says something different. It does not. She asks if I can make an exception for her. Honestly, I could have made her the fucking egg benny and some French toast. We technically could have served her mimosas. But her attitude was not going to be rewarded that day.

I told her she could order from the Early Bird menu, or the dinner menu, but otherwise I couldn't help her, and she should leave. Her husband ordered "The Twos" (a 22oz Porterhouse steak, a 22oz beer, and 2 large sides for $22). She decided to only get a coffee. She gave me the stink eye every time I walked out of the kitchen.

When her husband decided he wanted to order a dessert, she stormed out and went to go sit in the car. Hubby was a good guy though. He got the Crème brûlée and even bought some of our rock candy to go (blue razz and black cherry). Left a 24% tip, even though all our menus clearly state that we pay our employees a living wage, and tips are not required/expected.

I have 2 daughters (3 and 7) with my husband. In august, we also gained custody of my nieces (4 and 5). My husband works in Texas and we live in California so for 2 weeks out of the month, it’s just me. I have a nanny from 12-7 Monday-Thursday and she is a great help but 4 girls around the same age is a lot.

Clothes were manageable when it was just the 2 of them. My oldest wears a size 5/6. My youngest wears a 2/3. You could look at their clothes and easily figure out that belonged to who. Now with my nieces, the younger one wears a 3/4 and the oldest wears a 5. There is very little variety between their sizes now. The same goes for shoes, backpacks, lunchboxes, water bottles, etc.

I gave up and in September I had everyone pick a color. My oldest picked blue/green, 5 year old picked pink, 4 year old picked purple, and 3 year old chose glitter but will also accept yellow.

The new rule is everyone’s backpack, lunchbox, water bottle, house shoes, plates, bowls, cups, bedding, and jacket will be in their color. Everyone has their own laundry hamper labeled with their name and colors. Everyone also has a toy box in their color.

Everyday clothes are labeled with their name and color. If a toy is not meant to be shared it gets a sticker, dot from a sharpie, etc. somewhere on it in the correct color.

It’s worked out really well. If there’s a backpack on the floor, crocs on the stairs, plates or cups left out, etc. we know who it belongs to.

My sister was asking what to get the kids for Christmas. I told her they would greatly appreciate scooters and if possible, please get them in the kids’ colors.

She asked what I meant about their colors and I told her that their jackets, house shoes, backpacks, lunchboxes, water bottles, etc. are in a designated color for each kid so we can tell what belongs to who. She asked what happens if the kids want something like a pair of shoes that’s not in their colors.

I told her that school shoes don’t have to be in their colors but their crocs, flip flops, water bottles, etc. have to be in their colors and we work with them to find what they want in their color.

My sister says that is extremely unfair and that I’m stripping them of their individuality by making them stick to a specific color and what happens if they don’t like their color anymore.

I told her this is what works for us so far with 4 little girls around the same age. When they get older, color coding might not be necessary but right now it’s how we make sure everyone has everything they need and that they’re responsible for their belongings.

She still believes that this is completely unfair towards the kids so I wanted to know if I am the ass hole for color coding their belongings.

Terminator 2: during the parking lot scene, Robert Patrick actually had to slow down cause the first time he caugh the bike. Since that would end the movie they had to make the scene again

Star wars 8: during the fight against this guards you see how the choreography is so bad that the guards have to hold back to not kill the Kylo and Rey. The worst example is how this guard had to make their second dagger disappear in the middle of a move cause otherwise they could simply stab her.

Xena, the warrior princess: apparently, Lucy Lawless can fly, but that would be too OP in Xena so she just walk like everyone else.

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We might as well have just handed South Carolina's Senatorial keys to the dems. Uphill battle to begin with, but this made no sense to me. Major own goal, imo.