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In past I was also a supporter of such threads, but as time passed I understood actually that is on the whole can be detrimental as well. Because when I create stories, I completely detach IC occurrences from OOC occurrences. But throughout my last weeks in the game I have been even accused of exploiting a person's OOC situation by that person while actually it was nothing but end result of a long series of choice&consequence decisions. Getting daily shit from person and person's friends was just the cherry on the top. So thanks for making me feel like a jerk out of blue. Such moments leave me speechless definitely.
Now, reading the OOC ranting, frustration or venting of a person is detrimental, because it has the potential of affecting our IC actions. I would like to apologize, if I may appear brash, but everyone has their own problems and no one should try to affect others' IC actions because of their OOC issues. One could argue of course "You do not have to read such threads" but then similarly I could argue that "Let us have an Aetolia-based rage thread as well, no one has to read them as well" Hence on rage threads it should be an "all or nothing" for fairness.
And before someone states "But you are venting right now!" Yes that I do, and I also try to provide my criticism of rage threads. These are my personal thoughts, simply. But if we wish to become a community, that is my belief that we also have to be honest to each other. Otherwise instead of a community, we would end up with pockets of people minding their own business sitting on a pile of unpleasantness swept under the rug.
Now to put the thread back to its "intended" course:
Holy shit, it is so hot today. Damn you sun! Damn you!
My issues are completely trivial by comparison but perhaps people will find them amusing.
I am staying in an apartment in Japan for about half a year for work. The sink has this huge drain with a built in food trap I have to constantly keep clean. This week as I had the trap removed I knocked a bowl into the drain. It flipped and became perfectly wedged into it. It is hard to see from this perspective but the bowl is about 6 inches deep and completely blocking the drain.
I have no tools, I don't speak Japanese, and I have no idea how I would even call anyone for help. After trying for about 15 min to pull it out with no progress I finally decided the bowl had to die. A few knife attacks latter and the problem is solved.
I really hate this sink.
Did end up skipping the day's meds so I could guarantee being able to go to work, but I've been going through withdrawl from the med all day instead. I spent a lot of time at work, in break, hovering in the bathroom because I felt sick. But at least I got paid for it?
And because it's wednesday, the split days off I need won't be accomodated 'til the week after next probably, BUT this is actually good news because this way, I get a paid holiday for Tuesday AND I get wednesday thursday off. If they fixed it this week, I'd just have Tuesday off unpaid like normal and Friday.
And it's all because of this new director, who has decided to CANNONBALL into her job, idk, to prove that she can, because she's just jumping in, making sweeping changes, pissing everyone off, completely ignoring the chain of command, breaking down communication, and generally being a pain in the ass. Excellent.
Reslife can jump off a cliff. Free housing and happy freshmen are the only things worth the suffering.
Why can't sizing be simple and consistent? Why isn't there just an industry standard? Why do I wear anywhere from a 14, 18 or 3X depending on the brand? And why does one 18W fall off me and another barely squeeze on? And bras? Why can I give three different websites my measurements and have three different sizes come out of them?! I can not plausibly fit a 38DD, 38DDD AND a 40F!
Why.
WHY
WHHHYYYYYYY
Clothing manufacturers! Get your unicorns together! OI!
(Spinesreach): Xiuhcoatl says, "Oh man, grab the children-corn. This is gonna be good."
The family's cat, a golden tomcat that was named Tucker, (I usually called him fatass, or fatius assus when I was teasing) just passed away within the last hour. I'm not sure how to really process it myself, but I do feel like the tears want to come at the edges of my vision. I'm no veterinarian, but I do know he was actually too fat for his own good, and there's a good chance, based on what happened as reported by my younger brother and my grandmother, that he had a heart attack, and that is what killed him. All I know is that he took his last gasps and muscle spasms in my arms, and his eyes were dilated almost wider than I'd ever seen them as he looked at me.
Because I don't really know how I feel about him, I'll share a bit about him as far as I knew him.
He wasn't a very old cat. Maybe 6 at the oldest, and his fur was a bright golden blonde. When we got him, he had the bluest eyes you could have ever seen, and he was a bit of a crybaby. But as he grew, not only did he grow in length, but in width as well, I suppose my mother and grandmother didn't really grasp the concept of "Feed him at designated times, not give him open access around the clock to the food." But that probably wouldn't stopped him from getting at it either. He was a noisy, horny bastard too. When we weren't sure if the neighbor lady was trying to kill our cats, we had to keep him indoors alongside our other cat, and he'd constantly charge the door, meowing and screaming to be let out, because he had a girlfriend or two around the neighborhood (He was fixed, but I can't say we got him fixed before he had a few kittens with some of them, I guess.). Whenever he wasn't interested in food or heading outside to screw one of his girlfriends, he often would come find me, or my grandmother (or grandfather when he was still with us), flop down belly up, and demand not only belly scritches, but to actually be played with. He'd try to get rough if you didn't get (playfully) rough with him, and it was.. always fun. Heck, even when he didn't come find me, I'd sometimes play with him, and then he'd demand I do it more.
He also was very prone to being affectionate with people, rubbing his face all over legs and hands, before starting to bathe whatever he was rubbing against, just because that was his way of saying, "I like you. You're good people." Dude was chill for the most part, and unless you got in the way of his eating, or his looking for a screw, he was always up for a good roughhousing session. He wasn't so interested in toys and string. I mean, sure he'd bat at it if you dangled it right above him, but he wasn't much of a mouser or chaser. He was pretty lazy in that regard. He also didn't like getting his picture taken, or something. As soon as you try to start lining up a picture, even when he was taking a nap, his eye would snap open, and he'd be up, walking away before you could even focus the lens, but even so, he was a good cat.
anyways.. sorry for such a long post.. I'm transcribing my thoughts here because my feelings are too tangled a ball for my tired, exhausted even, brain to parse out.
Thank you for reading.
As for my own sad, I had a horrible evening going home from work. I was at the train station, waiting for my train and talking to my mom on the phone. All of a sudden, I hear an incoming train honk loudly a few times, before stopping at the station. I finish the talk with my mom and instead of going to through the platform to the little store to buy a drink, I went the other way around. Thankfully.
When I got into the station house where the store is, the police and ambulance were there, sealing the exit to the platform off. There were two girls crying and shaking and cops and ambulance people talking to them. Turns out that someone jumped in front of the train when it honked. I didn't see anything, thankfully, but the knowledge alone that it happened right then and there.... I'm kind of a sensitive person and things like this really get to me. At times like this, I am really happy I take sleeping meds, so I won't lay awake all night.
I just find it so sad that someone saw this as their last resort.. That they have gone so long and so far without help. I lost a coworker a year and a half ago in a suicide. We knew he had his demons, but we never expected something like that. Whoever he or she was, my thoughts go out to their family and friends, because whatever he or she might've thought, I am sure he or she had a family and friends who are now heartbroken.
Never forget... you are not alone. Find help if you need it, accept help, and always take a step back if you can. Find new perspectives, find that something in your life that is worth it all. Sending my love to you all today.
It's going to be a long email of complaints after this trip. Still no reassuring email telling me I'll get paid overtime.
Today/last night we lost a singer that.. well.. maybe not everyone liked, but the band covered a variety of songs, not just that one crappy portion that everyone associates them with. And songs like "Shadow of the Day" got me through some rough waters myself during some of my heavier depressions.
Chester Bennington, may he rest in peace.
If you ever feel like there's nothing left, and all you have is a corner against your back, and that the embrace of the afterlife is the only way out? Please, consider calling the National Suicide Lifeline. Please. If not for yourself, then consider doing it for all of those who love you, and the darkness clouding your thoughts cannot let you see their love for you, because ending your life is not a release of pain for you.. it's giving the pain you suffer to those around you, and choosing to make them suffer three times as much for each person you are close to. So please, consider dialing this number: 1-800-273-8255.
It's confidential, free, and they will do their best to help you as best as they can. And they will help you find the words you need to reach out to your loved ones and seek their help in getting through the darkness, so that you aren't so alone that you won't see death as the only path. Please.
I'm sure you've heard by now that Chester Bennington committed suicide. I didn't even know his name until he died, but it's wrecking me pretty hard. Someone who was able to help me lift up was beaten too far down to keep going.
I shouldn't be as tore up as I am; I barely knew who he was, I only liked the music. But man.. it hurts. Reminds me of when I was in really bad shape and I was hurting all of the people around me.
This is the kind of situation that sinks friendships, and now I'm faced with speaking up and alerting him, or keeping my mouth shut.
Fml.
Either tell him or, you know, tell her she's way off her mark and to go speak to her boyfriend (your friend) before you do.
Last thing I expected to happen today, and not what I need on top of all my other ongoing problems.
But seriously, that is kinda absurd.
To my own rage, my wife keeps seemingly picking a fight. We live in St Paul so the Minneapolis police shooting is very relevant to us. I told her that cop is guilty as hell and in no way does him unjustly fearing an ambush man he gets to randomly shoot people. If he gets scared and pulls out his gun and shoots anything that moves because of a car backfiring or some fireworks, the dude is in the wrong line of work. I appreciate cops and will stand behind them if there is a reasonable shred of evidence in their favor. But if they can't own up when they've screwed up, I'm probably going to need to rethink my standards.
A professor whom I work with lives in the neighborhood. He confirmed my suspicion that the neighborhood is safe. But this is an aside. My wife tries to tell me how there is no evidence so the dude is going to get off scotch free and will only have to agree to not be a cop in Minnesota ever again. I keep telling her that I don't give a shit and it is complete bullshit. This is after she accused me of being a lazy pile of crap (my words) because I pulled out of phone to answer a work email instead of doing "something that needed to be done" (her words). I'm sick of this double standard where she can Facebook when her phone is working (and it's working now since she got a new one thanks to me being late to work yesterday so I could call Motorola and invoke the warranty to get her a new phone since she was too frazzled to do so herself. Never got a thank you for that one...) and then she gets stressed out over EFFING ARGUMENTS SHE GETS INTO ON FACEBOOK. THE DUMBEST F***ING THING TO GET STRESSED OUT ABOUT. HERE IS AN IDEA : DON'T BE ON FACEBOOK. PROBLEM SOLVED, ALL OF YOUR STRESS IS NOW GONE!!!!!
I've gone back to weekly appointments with my psychologist because this crap is getting to me and I know it shouldn't. Also, I have a board exam in 10 days she knows I'm not feeling prepared for but she doesn't feel inclined to say "Oh go ahead and study after dinner, I've got the boys" or "Hey, don't worry about getting up at 5 am with the boys so I can sleep in, you should go for a run and then go study before going to school!" Instead is the thankless self sacrifice (self-sabotage? Perhaps in doubt it to myself intentionally so I have an excuse if/when I fail this exam) on top of a box who said he doesn't care that I have this exam, he wants this and this done by Friday. Also, I'm not getting paid to do anything for him this summer. But it's the whole my bad letter of recommendation will be worse if I don't help out for free, and I need anything I can get experience and publication-wise so I can maybe get a residency next year after I finish my thesis.
Mostly my appointment isn't until Friday and I needed to rage somewhere. Aetolia peeps are da best sounding boards evah.
I'm in the middle of a divorce. Only thing I have to say, is that I wish I had been strong enough at the time, to treat skirmishes with her differently, and to prioritize what really mattered.
I suggest, with genuine sincerity on my part, that you refocus more on your wife and family where it matters, and roll off the subject of the police and what that professor, or anyone else is saying or doing - Everything should be second to your duties as Patriarch of the family unit you are a member of, including social unrest from incidents with the police in the area you live.
If you feel unsafe regardless, I suggest that both of you purchase firearms, and obtain a CHL.
Good luck with everything. I know your upset.