The OFFICIAL Unofficial Achewood Message Board
Trivial Pursuits => Wild Card => Topic started by: Bozack on October 26, 2005, 11:05:33 pm
-
Keep your mouth shut and don't catch flies.
Seriously, though- I often have problems or questions that I'd like answered, and my google-fu just isn't up to the task. And I don't want to open a whole thread for them, so I was thinking, maybe we can post any specific questions in here, regarding anything small- cooking, badmiton, lovin', anything. Does that sound good?
Okay, I just got an old manual typewriter- an Olivetti Lettera 22. I've been poking around on it for a while, trying to figure it out, and I think I've got everything covered except....how dark should the type come out? Why isn't my type coming out consistantly? Is my ribbon not moving enough?
That's my question. And now you post yours!
EDUCATION.
-
Is it the fabric ribbon? The one with black on top and red on the bottom? How old is it? ALso, can you still get those?
Those ink-impregnated ribbons can dry out. Also, they are supposed to ratchet a little bit onto the take-up spool as you type. Check the ratcheting action to make sure you aren't typing on the same spot over and over. That would cause lighter letters.
-
Is it the fabric ribbon? The one with black on top and red on the bottom? How old is it? ALso, can you still get those?
I've been able to find standard-sized generic ones at office supply places for pretty cheap. If the ribbon was already in there when you got it, it's worth getting a new one.
-
I guess they would have to be cheap....
Of course, we bought a very recently marketed HP printer and NO CARTIDGES AVAILABLE ANYWHERE (of course, this is an island) for it - I'm ready to send a letter to HP demanding my money back if they can't support their product with the most basic of supplies.
-
Yeah, these are new ribbons. I've actually spent a fair amount of time fiddling with this thing and its insides.
I think the problem is thus: on the ribbon spools, I only have one little thumbscrew for the both of them. I've got it on the left right now, I think I need one on both- the ribbon isn't going across at a standardized speed. Also, I bought the ribbons at a stationary store; they might be really, really old. I'm going to stop by Staples tomorrow and buy some that I know will be fresh.
-
If it's a manual, finger pressure may be an issue. Also, typewritten documents will never be as crisp and consistent as laser printed (or inkjet) ones.
-
Man, where do you get a typewriter these days? I sort of want one.
-
Oh and badminton is hell of fun. Me and the Mrs. play it every summer. She generally kicks my ass because she is quicker than me and badminton is a very fast game.
-
I think I'll go outside and chase a hoop with a stick. Those kids in those old pictures look like they are having the damn time of their lives.
-
I found mine on eBay.
I know it's a ridiculous affectation, but I just like writing letters on a typewriter better than out by hand; andalucia can attest to my awful chicken-scratch.
So.....any other questions?
-
Yes, I have one:
I am in the market for a new winter boot. Warmth is not an issue for me, as I have super hot feet. Also, I have average sized feet to size shouldn't be a problem. However, good arch support, water/snow proofness and good grip are, as I will be walking to work every day. stylishness is also important: I would actually prefer a daily wear type boot that I can wear indoors/outdoors - so I'd rather they not be ugly. Durability is also important - I will lay down major cheddar for the right boot. I have had several very negative experiences with boots the past three winters including last years expensive Harley Davidson black leather ass kickers, which sadly did not kick ass at all, and had split at the connection at leather to sole spot within three months and were filling with slush repeatedly - boo to that. I prefer a lady style boot - no major heel, but also I don't want to look like I'm into the Indigo Girls too much, if you know what I mean, so any input in regard to stylish yet functional ladies boots would be much apreciated.
More specifically, I'm wondering about the Australian Blundstone boots, I checked out their site, and the boots sound great, but I'd love to hear a reaction from someone who's tried these puppies out in wet/snowy conditions.
-
old school manual typewriter- bang on it.
letter writing affectatious?- get down with it, you care enough to send the very legible.
hoop and stick- let us know how that works out for you. i was always under the impression that the hoop was "liberated" from an older sibling's dress, and that most of the fun was rolling your sister's undergarment accessory down the street.
inkjet printers- are the devil's work.
boots- i am a big fan of Doctor Marten's boot. i've always ended up wearing the sole out before any other part. the soles, often times, are anti-static. these soles have always given me amazing traction on ice. negatives- possibility of pretentiousness and the fact that the boots themselves are incredibly thin leather. workaround to negatives- like me, cultivate greater character flaws to mask possible boot choice issues, and buy a size or 1/2 size large and wear large socks.
also, the tounges are connected, so as long as you wax/oil them correctly they do a good job at staying dry-ish.
now for my questions:
why would two birds fall out of the fuck*ng sky for no apparent reason, one of them bouncing off your deck's railing, then lie on the ground twitching, and then stop moving, and then the next day only one remains?
and, more importantly, my first instinct is to ignore the carcassasesesssesses (sp?) and leave them alone in an effort to not get germs. should i purchase an army surplus hazmat suit and burn them, or what?
imagine a house with a cat. that cat had his front claws, uh, declawed. imagine a kitten, newly arrived to the house, being scheduled to be declawed and made a eunuch. is it better to declaw all 4 or only the front 2? please note, he will be declawed, period, evil exists. also note, neither has given any indication of using claws to cause permenant damage to each other as of yet.
what's the best place to find ooooooooooldish phonograph equipment such as needles and motors and whatnot?
-
boots- i am a big fan of Doctor Marten's boot. i've always ended up wearing the sole out before any other part. the soles, often times, are anti-static. these soles have always given me amazing traction on ice. negatives- possibility of pretentiousness and the fact that the boots themselves are incredibly thin leather. workaround to negatives- like me, cultivate greater character flaws to mask possible boot choice issues, and buy a size or 1/2 size large and wear large socks.
also, the tounges are connected, so as long as you wax/oil them correctly they do a good job at staying dry-ish.
Maybe it's just a difference in models, but I found my Doc Martens to be incredibly slippery on ice, to the point that I stopped wearing them in the winter (I was getting better traction in my freakin' Vans). Caveat boot-shopper, I suppose.
imagine a house with a cat. that cat had his front claws, uh, declawed. imagine a kitten, newly arrived to the house, being scheduled to be declawed and made a eunuch. is it better to declaw all 4 or only the front 2? please note, he will be declawed, period, evil exists. also note, neither has given any indication of using claws to cause permenant damage to each other as of yet.
Front 2 alone should be okay. I've never noticed any particular problem with the back claws, and hey, fair is fair, right?
-
I always leave my cats with back claws so that they have some little bit of weaponry just in case. I've never had a problem with them using back claws to scratch - one of our cats makes a great show of scratching with his clawless front feet on the sofa or on any cardboard box he finds. It's quite amusing.
As for the birds falling from the sky - I dunno - did they bounce off a window higher up? Touch two power lines at once? Eat poison somewhere and it kicked in over your porch? Hard to say.
-
I'm a HUGE fan and supporter of Frye boots (http://www.fryeboots.com/)- I've had a pair of the Harness ones for- jesus, 6 years now, and they've held up to 3 New York winters, now. The only thing I've ever had to do for them is get a heel replaced 2 years ago. Except...wow, the prices on the website are really high- I got my long-shafts for like $120, and I actually grabbed 2 pairs of low-shafts for $35 each at an Urban Outfitters ultrasale. Foolish hipsters don't know a good deal when it looks them in the face.
I also just bought some Docs for work, but I don't know how warm they'll be, as it's basically a piece of leather and then my foot. The leather on my Frye's is at least 3 times as thick.
And eBay or specialty online places might be your best bets for phonograph stuff, but if you can use, say, a Stanton needle or a Technics motor, you can probably get those at any hi-fi store.
-
I buy most of my turntable stuff at www.needledoctor.com - the staff is really helpful and pretty quick to respond to an email, and their prices are good on most things - I've gotten 3 or 4 Ortofon cartridges from them, and they're always here in a few days at a good price.
I've never gotten a new motor from them, and they don't seem to have them listed - but I'd wager that they can get one for you, or know where you can get one. Good luck!
-
Major news you guys:
It turns out I'm an idiot and had the spools backwards, then forwards on already typed on thread. I have worked my issues out.
Also, I'd like to emphasize boot socks, just as a general awesome thing to have. I say this because my feet are cold enough to freeze the balls of a brass monkey, which I'm sure someone's going to remind us is actually a stack of cannonballs. Because we are about EDUCATION.
-
A new question, because I have a faulty brain.
Does anyone here read DC Comics?
Can this person explain all of this Identity Crisis/Infinite Crisis crap? Because I have to know about it by Saturday, and after an hour reading the wiki on it, I only know that Batman had his brain wiped, and some other guy did too, and that someone was killed by a character named Captain Boomerang, who, guess what, throws Boomerangs, and there's also a chimp who is a detective, who is called Detective Chimp.
I hate DC comics.
-
A new question, because I have a faulty brain.
Does anyone here read DC Comics?
Can this person explain all of this Identity Crisis/Infinite Crisis crap? Because I have to know about it by Saturday, and after an hour reading the wiki on it, I only know that Batman had his brain wiped, and some other guy did too, and that someone was killed by a character named Captain Boomerang, who, guess what, throws Boomerangs, and there's also a chimp who is a detective, who is called Detective Chimp.
I hate DC comics.
I would attempt to explain, but everything I know about Identity/Infinite Crisis I have learned either from Ben-San or from guys really, really bitter about minor characters getting killed off. So I'm passing the baton to Ben here.
-
Baton passed. I'll first explain: Infinite Crisis is an incredibly stupid and sprawling mess that I've only read parts of, so this will be kind of incomplete.
Infinite Crisis is a morass of somewhat interconnected storylines that will supposedly change the DC universe forever, just like the last five did. Identity Crisis was the first of these, and revolved around the murder of Elongated Man's wife, Sue. In the course of the investigation, it came out that Dr. Light (the evil one, not the heroic Japanese one) had raped Sue during Elongated Man's time in the Justice League, and that the Justice League had performed magical brainwashing on him and several other villains. On learning this, several members of the League left. Eventually Sue's murderer turned out to be The Atom's ex-fiancee Jean Loring, who had decided that if a superhero's wife died, they would all pay more attention to their loved ones.
Meanwhile, in another storyline, Blue Beetle discovers that there is some kind of sinister project underway called "OMAC" involving spy satellites and nanite-colony supersoldiers. Due to his reputation as a loser, his repeated calls for assistance from other superheroes are ignored. He is then shot and killed by former Justice League backer Maxwell Lord, who has been retrofitted with a new personality by someone who didn't think the old one was eXtreme enough. He now hates all superheroes, has regained an amplified version of the mind-control powers he once possessed, and is apparently a member of the superspy organization Checkmate. He mind-controls Superman, and is killed by Wonder Woman. There is also some kind of connection between the OMAC project and Batman's company, Wayne Enterprises, but from here on in my knowledge is mainly hearsay, so it's kind of fuzzy.
Apparently the OMAC supersoldiers go berserk and kill Rocket Red, presumably carrying out DC editor-in-chief Dan Didio's mission of vengeance against the early-90s run of Justice League written by Keith Giffen, a kind of "superhero sitcom" in which everyone who has been killed so far were given major roles.
Meanwhile, in a plot that may or may not have anything to do with anything else, third-string villain Cat-Man along with a lot of other mediocre supervillains I don't even remember has formed a group called Villains United that go around killing people. So far, Deathstroke The Terminator, who is currently not very popular and is therefore being written as a villain, has killed Firestorm, Uncle Sam, The Black Condor, The Phantom Lady, and The Freedom Fighters.
Also, Power Girl has received her fourth secret true origin, establishing her to be Superman's lost cousin from another dimension, although still distinct from Supergirl, who may or may not be Superman's cousin from this dimension, but certainly likes to kill people, perhaps as a result of being introduced as a new character and then killed about four or five times in the past fifteen years. Also also, the wizard Shazam, from whom Captain Marvel derives his powers, has been killed by someone, I don't really care much at this point, and his Rock Of Eternity has shattered into myriad mystical artifacts which rained down on Gotham City.
There's probably more but this is about the limit of my knowledge and I have no real desire to actually read more at this point.
-
....
I joined a comic book discussion group- the Comic Book Readers League, because you've got to get League in there, and our first meeting, I guess, is this Saturday. We all got to pick books we'd like to....something. I don't know. Discuss? Contemplate? I sent in Desolation Jones and BPRD: Black Flame, and the other picks are Manhattan Guardian (which I've read and think is a bit crap), Samurai Executioner (which I haven't read, and sounds manga-esque, so I can actually find a trade of it), The New Avengers (which I think is pretty awesome) and Infinite Crisis, which I didn't pick up because I've washed my hands of all straight DC titles that do not involve Deadman or the Demon Ertigan, because those guys are pretty cool. Any continuity where you have Superman, a literally invincible man, as a good guy, and Gorilla Grodd, a fuck*ng talking GORILLA, as a SUPERVILLIAN, is so far beyond any sort of belief-suspension...I mean, jesus. On a certain level, I can say to myself, okay, I can see how radioactive waste, flung into the eyes, might blind a man but give him radar senses, and he'd become a superhero/lawyer. I can deal with that. But the idea that Superman, at some point in his life, has ever had to fight a god damned gorilla is just depressing. I know he's supposed to be, you know, good and moral and etc., but if I was basically a living god, and someone asked me to help them out with the monkey they've got running around, I'd probably kill the monkey first with my heat vision, and then kill the person asking, just for thinking that I'd take the time.
-
Incoming comic-book dorkery. (I mean, beyond the asked-for level of dorkery in my last post.)
Grodd is a gorilla with mind-control powers, which makes him a bit more of a threat, and rarely fights Superman. Granted, a certain amount of suspension of disbelief is required for how much events compartmentalize into small character groups, but one assumes Superman thinks "Well, I've got enough going on in Metropolis, I'll let The Flash handle this one since it's in Central City anyway". Superman did once have a gorilla nemesis, but it was Titano, a giant gorilla who shot Kryptonite lasers from his eyes.
I actually quite liked Manhattan Guardian, but I can see it not being everyone's thing. You might want to look into JSA; I like it a lot and got a certain amount of the same storytelling vibe from it that I got from New Avengers, but I don't know if it'll lose some of its appeal to someone who doesn't feel the same way I do about Golden Age DC comics. Birds of Prey was also a good adventure comic last I saw, but I don't know who's still on it.
Also, props for due respect to Deadman. I love all the old DC occult/mystery stuff and he is one of the greats.
-
That's probably one of the better summaries of Infinite Crisis I've seen, but one thing that seems to be important is that the OMAC project is based on files that Batman kept on each superhero and their weaknesses. He did made these files and a satellite monitoring system as a backup plan, without the rest of the league's knowledge, in case anyone went rogue and he had to stop them.
Of course, that system got stolen, and Beetle went to investigate and got all shot in the head, and then Batman had to explain his death and how he created the monitoring satellites and computer system (which is now rogue, because all fictional AIs go rogue), and then he finds out that he's been mindwiped, and then he leaves the League, and stuff.
I think. I haven't actually read any of these comics, myself. I like the animated series better, because the heroes there are likeable and do good stuff.
If you would like to have access to many, many comics to see what they are about, you should check out the Scans_Daily (http://www.livejournal.com/community/scans_daily/) LiveJournal community. It's basically a place where comic fans post selections from things they like (or hate) and you can read them on the internet. This is how I gleaned the information above about IC without actually seeing the comics in person.
A lot of the Infinite Crisis has been posted and discussed in recent months, so it's an okay place to familiarize yourself with events. There's also a lot of discussion of artists and writers of various arcs/books, so you can greatly enhance your hipness* factor by seeing the difference between Miller and Millar and such.
Also people there laugh about Robin wearing green panties. They laugh a lot. And some of them write stories about it.
*In the relative sense, of course. In societal terms, this is the path of dorkitude, but I'm sure you all knew that.[/i]
-
Gorilla Grodd (http://www.bookofratings.com/legionofdoom.html)
He's an evil Gorilla, but someone named Gorilla Grodd who's a member of the Legion of Doom has no business being anything else.
I never got into DC either. I exclusively read Marvel until the whole who we'd thought was Peter Parker for like 15 years was really the clone all along and Mary Jane's been pregnant for like 2 years now storylines. Then I got into NEC. It's all about Man Eating Cow and Crisis on Finite Tick Spinoffs, baby.
-
This is probably the best page about DC characters ever. (http://www.seanbaby.com/super.htm)
Yeah, I missed out on all the clone stuff. Now, in the Avengers and Marvel Knights: Spiderman, he actually mocks the whole "clone" stuff. I think he's really come to terms with it. Also, in a recent one, the Green Goblin threw Mary Jane off of the SAME DAMN BRIDGE he threw Gwen Stacey off of, and THIS time, Spidey knew enough to shoot several strands at her, catching her at every key point, so that when she finally stopped plummeting her neck WOULDN'T snap like a twig. He makes a mental comment about thinking about this for years, how he should have done it right the first time. I'm proud of him. He's gotten through a lot of his issues.
-
If you would like to have access to many, many comics to see what they are about, you should check out the Scans_Daily (http://www.livejournal.com/community/scans_daily/) LiveJournal community. It's basically a place where comic fans post selections from things they like (or hate) and you can read them on the internet. This is how I gleaned the information above about IC without actually seeing the comics in person.
I tend to post to scans_daily fairly often. It is also possible for those with a good Internet connection and the desire to read comics but not a sufficiently strong desire to pay for comics to find ways to do so, but the selected samples on scans_daily will give less of a moral quandary if you are prone to quandaries.
-
New question.
I was prescribed, a few months ago, an anti-anxiety drug along with a mood-stabilizer. The mood-stabilizer works great. The anti-anxiety drug turns out to be highly addictive and cause aphasia and anteriograde amnesia; I was not informed of this when I started taking the drug. I only found out when I went through 5 days of really, really tough withdrawl when I ran out and learned that in New York, the drug (Clonazepam) cannot be obtained without a special form filled out by a New York doctor.
Well, now I have a new psychiatrist, and my first appointment is on December 1st; however, she told me that she will not see me if I am still on Clonazepam. I have to be off of it in 2 weeks. And when I ran out before, by the 5th day, I was spraying myself with Raid, convinced that I was emitting a phermone that attracted roaches. And, as I later found out, the withdrawal doesn't actually reach it's head until the 8th day. I was only HALF-WAY THROUGH the withdrawal.
So I asked her if there was anything I could do to keep from going completely batshit during this time, aside from tapering the dose instead of stopping cold turkey. She then said the following.
"Do whatever makes you relax. Whatever. Anything that makes you relax, I condone and encourage the use of. Anything that makes you relax."
Now, I'm no doctor of psychiatry, but I assume she meant "smoke a TON of pot," which actually helped me when I was withdrawing the first time. This is pretty-much okay with me. But I don't want to have to wake and bake on the days I work and be completely gone. Sooooo....
Pot butter. Any recipies? I've looked at a few online, but I'd rather get it from the kind folks at TOUAMB, and if anyone has any good withdrawal strategies, please share.
Thanks, all.
-
I have no assistance for you, but I think your perception is completely correct regarding her comments.
-
I have no assistance for you, but I think your perception is completely correct regarding her comments.
I swear to god, she actually repeated that phrase 8 times in the conversation. I felt like I was scheduling an appointment with Cheech.
-
Lightly Saute your buds in butter. The THC is fat-soluble.
Methods and recipes here. (http://www.smokingwithstyle.com/potbutter.htm)
If you can get to Hawaii I will personally stay up with you for 8 days and prevent you from hurting yourself or others while you get off that nasty shit.
Research the drugs before you take them, seriously - especially ones that affect your mood or how your brain works.
-
I felt like I was scheduling an appointment with Cheech.
I like to read the Cannibis Eating FAQ (http://www.erowid.org/plants/cannabis/cannabis_faq_eat.shtml) and imagine that I actually have pot to do something with. There's more helpful information on the Erowid Cannibis page (http://www.erowid.org/plants/cannabis/cannabis.shtml) as well (see the 'Preparation and Recipies' section).
I wish you luck with this - I know some folks who use klonopin and how tough it can be when they even miss a dose, let alone go cold turkey.
-
i could, and have, ranted for days about the pill pushing industry.
zack, be strong man. do what you got to do to survive. while this is a message board about cartoon cats and shit, it's also a bunch of people, a bunch of people who give a shit about you. when you hit that spot, remember that. there are people who enjoy you and your company.
i don't know anything about pot butter. i'm sorry.
-
Yeah, Arkabee has it right. Although I could go on a rant about the benefits of neuropharmacology, that shit you're going through sucks pretty hard. Peace and strength until you get through it, and if any of us silly Acheheads can do anything, just let us know, hear?
-
.The anti-anxiety drug turns out to be highly addictive and cause aphasia and anteriograde amnesia; I was not informed of this when I started taking the drug.
This makes me so angry. And, what Ark said.
But at least your new doctor sounds really cool.
-
Oh and not to hijack the thread but Bozack's post reminded me that one of the things I like about my current line of work is that if I think ants or roaches are crawling all over me, it generally means that ants or roaches are actually crawling all over me.
-
.The anti-anxiety drug turns out to be highly addictive and cause aphasia and anteriograde amnesia; I was not informed of this when I started taking the drug.
This makes me so angry. And, what Ark said.
But at least your new doctor sounds really cool.
Not to downplay the fuckedupness of the pharmaceutical industry in the U.S. but I do like it when I find out that random shit from Star Trek is actually real and not just in a theoretical or textbook sense. I am speaking of aphasia here
-
I was avoiding commenting on the fucked up nature of tbe unholy trinity of Pharmaceutical Companies, the Health Insurance Industry, and the Medical Establishment (since I work in the belly of the second beast now) but, like everything, it's all about money.
Hopefully you've found a doctor willing to give you the most minimal chemical intervention necessary - my opinion is that mood altering drugs are heavily overprescribed and certain disorders, especially ADD and Clinical Depression are probably overdiagnosed in part due to pressure from parents/patients and in part due to the availability of mood altering drugs which parents/patients are aware of).
The main thing I hate about it is that people with real mental health issues have to compete with a lot of other people for care - at the same time, pharmaceutical companies pay insurance companies incentives for utilization of certain drugs - so the companies put them on their formularies, often in advantageous positions to similar drugs - and of course billions are spent between the incentive process with insurers and the process of marketing the drugs to physicians.
The argument about R&D being so expensive isn't a lie - but it's not even close to the rest of the truth when it comes to why drugs cost a lot in the US.
-
deleted due double posting
-
Bozack, as a former stoner I could tell you how to make both pot butter and bakin' brownies, but why don't I just refer you to the source: Pick up the Anarchist's Cookbook at any local head shop - it has all you need to know.
Warning: The pot brownies are so gross they made me throw up in my mouth. The pot butter is so green tasting that, well, it is not food.
Another more pleasent idea is to pick up a vaporizer - they run under $100. This way you will not be coating your lungs in crap while taking in the dope. Another option is to smoke hash oil - the high will be very strong, esp. if you don't normaly smoke it, but long lasting, so you could plan to smoke it 4-5 hours before work, but still be lightly baked for the rest of the day.
-
Former stoner?
Why'd you stop?
Not to derail the topic (if this topic could be..) but for those of you who used to partake/imbibe of the bud, what made you become former stoners?
-
I was a wake n' bake guy for years, but once the kids got big enough be aware and curious about such things (around age 3 or so) we just gradually tapered off and quit. Also, when you lose sources it can be hard to find new ones.
-
I don't do the wake n bake anymore. I did for a long while, but it got a bit much. I'm still somewhat prone to it on weekends, but I just find it easier getting to work and not having to deal with my boss first thing when high. He's only there for ten minutes each morning, but I guess it's better to be sober anyway.
As for the eating thing, I always found it too trippy eating pot. Then again, it might have been adding to the mushroom tea that time I'm thinking of...
Anyway, pot butter is pretty easily made. Cookies are pretty good. A great one is Leary biscuits - digestive biscuit with cheese and pot on, microwaved or grilled until the pot melts into the cheese some. Less mobile than cookies or brownies though.
-
Former stoner?
Why'd you stop?
Not to derail the topic (if this topic could be..) but for those of you who used to partake/imbibe of the bud, what made you become former stoners?
Well the SO basically got scary out of control. I was all casual, once-in-a-while smoker girl until we moved in together, and I'm not sure if he presented himself as casual smoker guy, or if he was always chronic and I didn't realize it til it progressed with us, but I was a once, maybe twice a month type girl until we shacked up. Then it progressed to once a week, then slowly to once a day. While I was not into this, it's sort of like tasty food - if it's right in front of you, you tend to partake. I didn't like this, and one of my SO's friends around that time was killed by a drunk driver, so I convinced the SO to cut back, but even though we both did cut back to twice a month, he increased his doing of scary things like driving while high or getting into vehicles with the driver either high or drunk or both to the point where I was scared for his life every time the 15th and 30th rolled around. He has one friend who is basically a drunk and another who is a chronic stoner, so between these two buds, I was worried for my SO almost every day. Also, the two times a month expanded to the moment it became midnight til a 24 hour period of the next day at midnight, then it slipped into two or three day jags. I got to a point where I worried if he was late coming home that he was either in jail or dead. Then one day my mom had one of her standard psychological breakdowns, and I was tapped and very depressed from dealing with her and told my SO I needed him to hang with me to keep me from getting too sad or stressed about the whole family situation, but shortly thereafter, he announced he was going to meet a friend of a friend of a friend for a pick up from a guy that he only knew as "the dude" (which is only funny if you're not the person in the situation) at a mall, and because of the sketchineses of the situation, I insisted on going along, but not taking part in the actual pick up. I had given the SO the whole "you have no idea whether 'the dude' is a cop, or a hells angel with a hit on him, or anything, why are you taking these risks?" to no avail, and was too worn out from dealing with my mom's melt down and too worried about everything to stand up, and the SO was insisting that this would only take 15 minutes, then he'd be home again, hence why I went along with him. I told my SO to meet me in a bookstore in 15 minutes, and I waited over an hour and a half with no sign of him, thinking the worst. Just as I was considering leaving, the SO and his other bad-news stoner friend (the couch guy (http://achewood.plagiarist.com/viewtopic.php?t=1440&highlight=couch+guy+stoner), if you remember that story) showed up and they were all casual like: "do you wanna go get some lunch?" Rather than blow up at the SO infront of the friend (I'm not a public figther, and infact, til this post, no one even knew that all this stuff went down) I quietly simmered until the next day. Basically, I slept on it for a night, and realized that I had to draw a line in the sand.
I examined my life and decided that I was not willing to spend the rest of my life with someone worrying if they were dead, or arrested, or who knows. I realized that my SO and I were about to move into a financially binding arrangement as co-signers on a mortgage, and, to put it bluntly, that we were not just fuck*ng around anymore. So I told him that he had to stop with the dope, totally and completely, or it would have to be over between the two of us. It was the scariest and most horrible moment I've ever had in a relationship. I was so sad, I had so prepair myself for the possibility that he might leave me. He and I have basically had a wonderful, loving and caring relationship, up to that point there was never an issue that made us question our future together. He had always been so kind and considerate of me, except in this one aspect of ourlives, and we had entered a relationship as pot smoking hippies. But driving while intoxicated wasn't part of the deal, putting us both in danger by taking stupid risks was not part of the deal, and since it was all tied to one big elephant in the room, there was only one option. I'm not the type of girl who makes people change to suit her needs, and I was basically asking him to change his entire life style for me.
It was a horrible and stressful time, he tried to bargain me back to the twice a month thing, but even though I wanted to cave, I stood firm, secretly terrified inside. He became convinced that I must have been planning to dump him for months or even years, since his pot smoking had always been part of his package, but I tried my best to explain that it was more like an epiphany moment for me. I had to do a lot of reassuring that the pot was the only issue, and it was.
Over a week or so of tears on both sides and very little talking, we finally talked it over and came to an agreement that he would not partake in the weed anymore, and that I would stop too in support of him. We agreed that to ever partake again would be equivilent to cheating on each other. While the use of dope wasn't particularly addictive, the psychological effect was something we both missed a lot, especially him. re-learning how to relax and chill out without smoking weed has been especially hard, but since I no longer worry about him being killed, the one major stressor of my life is gone, and I'm very thankful for that. About a month ago, he thanked me for getting him to stop, and started going through all the horrible things that could have happened, and tells me that he's come to realize that he's dodged a bullet in that he didn't get in an accident, get arrested or kill anyone else during his stoner phase.
It's actually been nearly a year - I seem to remember this all going down a little after New Years eve. Things are very sane, and we're very happy as a couple. My SO hasn't really lost any friends - even his stoner buddies still hang out with him, but they all know he doesn't smoke dope anymore, and that the rule is that they are not to smoke dope around either of us. So, while I still feel stressed, especially when the SO hangs with couch guy or some of his other stoner friends, I'm coming to feel that we've come to a place of calm and trust.
When I look back, I think that I was lucky, my bottoming out was long before I even met him when all my friends were going E and acid and shrooms. It was the first and only time I crossed the line and took pshycoactive drugs - I had a very, very bad high on shrooms that made me fully and compleatly realize how serious drug use can be. I had severe hallucinations and became convinced that all my friends were tainted. I hid in a bathroom screaming as the walls around me melted, saw snakes all over the floor, and basically just wanted a way to turn the high off, but couldn't get away from it. I got home and locked myself in my bedroom, terrified my friendly family dog was going to kill me, repeatedly believing my stereo was turned on full blast even though it was turned off. From that point on I new my limit, knew I was falliable, and that I needed to take care of and respect myself and my boundaries. Maybe if I hadn't recognized that so many years ago I would have needed something far more tragic to wake me up, I'm deeply, deeply relieved that no one got hurt or killed at my or my SO's expence during our partying times.
I was talking to my bestfriend about our younger partying days. She's now an early-years teacher. Did you ever think your grade one teacher was a major stoner who partied all night? We can't believe we made it through, with all the stupid, stupid things we did. Most of it was so much fun, but we both feel a great deal of peace with leaving it in the past. It was fun, but it was "then."
That's a very long story, and one I've never talked about with anyone, so thanks for asking AD. It feels good to put it out there to the universe.
When it comes to all the stoners on the board, have absolutly nothing against people who do smoke pot. I myself deeply enjoy drinking myself stupid every so often. I do however, have a lot against people who drive while intoxicated, who take risks that could result in others being killed or hurt. That shit is not cool.
-
Did you ever think your grade one teacher was a major stoner who partied all night?
Only when one ofmy stoner/hippy friends is a primary school teacher. I had one cool teacher in my school time and I reckon she probably inhaled...
As for the rest of it, my friend who was as big a stoner as I, stopped when he started freaking out whenever he smoked. It's been about 2 years, though he smokes occasionally with friends now, but he's still basically off it. He found it toughest when he started dreaming about being high.
I go through quite long periods (months at times) without smoking, but always smoke when I get to, as I love it so. It does reassure me that I can do without it now though.
I had a while when I was convinced all of my creativity was based on inebriation, but I think I'm past that now. Even half-defeated writer's block today, while I was still sober.
I was too stoned to notice NaNoWriMo coming up though. One of these years!
-
I was too stoned to notice NaNoWriMo coming up though. One of these years!
SHIT!
-
See, my difficulty is thus: the only times that I really have to have my shit together and NOT be rocking in a corner hugging my shoulders (aside from seeing all of my SO's relatives THIS weekend and going home for Thanksgiving and seeing all of MY relatives next week) is for the 24 hours I work at Barnes & Nobles. My job isn't that stressful, but I just really don't want to have a panic attack at work. My hope is this: If I were to make very, very weak pot butter, perhaps, if I were feeling a bit out of sorts, I could run back to the break room, have a little dab on some bread and it would calm me down for a while. Would this work?
-
Wow, Smells. I really respect you for bringing the strong sack; there are a lot of times I've wanted to draw the line like that with my SO, and I just can't manage. (It's never about anything that serious, though.) I'm glad to hear that you two were able to work it out.
Man, I think I might just be teetotal for life. Too much of a control freak for this stuff.
-
Thank you so very much for that story Melanie. I appreciate how you are willing to speak so candidly about your life. That was a wonderful story and it makes my story of why I quit smoking pot sound pretty pale indeed. Therefore you've forced me to step up to the plate and reveal more of the story, the part i've never spoken of to anyone before ever. I quit smoking because it got to expensive. This was in the mid '80s and when the price climbed to 30 dollars for a quarter of an ounce I said enough, I refuse to pay such a high price. And of course when you ain't buying people eventually stop sharing with you. That's my stock why I quit smoking pot story which is all entirely true, but there is more and this is the part i've never spoken of. As I said people stopped sharing with me because I was becoming a bum, but I was alright with that because something was begining to happen that scared me very much. On a couple of occassions I heard a voice in my head. It was not a nice voice. I percieved the voice to be that of the devil and he was telling me to kill myself. I should point out that I have mental illness in my family, my Brother is a full blown schizophrenic, manic depressive. I have other blood reletives, particularly a first cousin who is also a full blown schizo. There are others in my family who suffer to a lesser degree. I don't entirely attribute these schizophrenic episodes of mine to the pot, but i'm convinced it was a strong contributing factor. I imagine that what I was feeling is very similar to what my Brother felt all the time before he got himself medicated. I've smoked weed since then on several occasions to no ill effect, but not for over a decade. I had actually planned on smoking this weekend, but Melanie's story and remembering my own has made me rethink that idea.
The trouble with mental illness and medication is it's a lose lose situation. My brother used to be a lunatic with a long trail of destruction in his wake, now he's a semi comatose husk of a man. At least now he's docile.
~Paul
-
Oh and I forgot to mention, we love you Bozack, keep a stiff upper lip. We'll do whatever we can to help you through this.
Beatrice, since this is surely all your fault I expect you will be flying to NYC tonight to rock our boy to sleep.
~Paul
-
What about drinking, Bozack? Could you get drunk at work?
...but seriously, hang tough. We're all here for you.
-
I quit smoking because it got to expensive. This was in the mid '80s and when the price climbed to 30 dollars for a quarter of an ounce I said enough, I refuse to pay such a high price.
Yeah, that was a factor with me too. I understand that it's much worse these days. If I went back to smoking, I'd grow my own.
-
Would this work?
It might be enough that you believe that it will work. The placebo effect is a grand thing.
-
Would this work?
Should do. Worth trying I reckon, at first, before it gets too bad and see how it is. As I say, I always found it made me feel trippier than stoned, but that was in a pretty hefty quantity (like eating a baggy of green so as to nto take it on the ferry, and to get past the horribleness of the ferry).
So yeah, definitely worth a try. And hang in there. I know whereof you speak and it's not nice. Stupid doctors!
-
Would this work?
Should do. Worth trying I reckon, at first, before it gets too bad and see how it is. As I say, I always found it made me feel trippier than stoned, but that was in a pretty hefty quantity (like eating a baggy of green so as to nto take it on the ferry, and to get past the horribleness of the ferry).
So yeah, definitely worth a try. And hang in there. I know whereof you speak and it's not nice. Stupid doctors!
You ate a baggy of green?
How twisty did you get?
-
...something was begining to happen that scared me very much. On a couple of occassions I heard a voice in my head. It was not a nice voice. I percieved the voice to be that of the devil and he was telling me to kill myself. I should point out that I have mental illness in my family, my Brother is a full blown schizophrenic, manic depressive. I have other blood reletives, particularly a first cousin who is also a full blown schizo. There are others in my family who suffer to a lesser degree. I don't entirely attribute these schizophrenic episodes of mine to the pot, but i'm convinced it was a strong contributing factor.
Well my SO and I have a schizophrenic friend whose only been diagnosed recently though she's almost 40, and she's the biggest stoner I've ever met in my life. Also she's a nurse, which scares the hell out of me. Anyway, her heavy pot use, up to her diagnosis, has been her only way of keeping sane, and probably the only reason why she's not dead. She's had far more serious substance abuse problems in the past with coke, so her constant pot use doesn't translate into a problem for her. I urged her to be straight with her psychiatrist now that she's finally been diagnosed - about her pot use that is. She's suffered a few paranoid break downs recently, and knowing how dope feels pretty well, it's hard not to imagine that the two are linked. I certainly don't want our buddy to stop doing the one thing that's kept her alive thus far, but I'm also hopeful that she can find a sense of well being that she's been without.
Also, as a side note, when it comes to hearing voices, I've never had that happen to me, but I do have a spirit animal - since I'm aboriginal, I try to be pensive about this and take it as a signifier of something, not a crazy thing: there's a black domesticated cat that I see every so often - maybe a few times a year. This is definitly not a "real" cat, but I used to see it in the distance, usually when high or very sick, running across a parking lot, or walking on the opposite side of the street. It's been gone for over a year, and I sort of wrote it off as the result of to too much hedonism, but recently the cat has reappeared, much closer now, and usually hissing angrily but silently, out of the corner of my eye. When I turn my head, there's never anything there - just my eyes or my mind playing tricks on me. I have no idea what it means, but since it's a hardly-ever-type thing, I try not to let it worry me. When it comes to my cat or your voices, let's agree that if they ever become more than just a hardly-ever thing that we'll go see a doctor, okay?
I had actually planned on smoking this weekend, but Melanie's story and remembering my own has made me rethink that idea.
You know, Paul, it's all about personal limits, right? I know I'd be fine to smoke dope now and any time in the future, but I don't - as a promise of solidarity to my SO. For me, the line is hallucinogens. I'm very lucky that I was able to step back and recognize this line in my teens, when most of my friends were a lot less self-aware. I remember a lot of my friends thought my bad trip was "cool," and that those friends went on to harder, perminantly damaging drugs. Only two of my friends from that time is are truly lost causes, which is a miracle, really.
The trouble with mental illness and medication is it's a lose lose situation. My brother used to be a lunatic with a long trail of destruction in his wake, now he's a semi comatose husk of a man. At least now he's docile.
You know, with my mom having gone over the deepend in the past little while, and since she's been off her med's for over a year, I don't really know if I can agree with you. Because my mom was medicated basically through out my whole childhood, but still had all the markers of serious mental illness, only to a lesser extent, I know that at least in her case the drugs helped, but not in a way that fixed anything - just lessened it.
When it comes to myself I've been repeatedly told by physicians to go on anti-depressants, and have been totally resistant to the idea. I am a person who depends on my capacity to think and dive deep into the wells of my psyche both for fufillment and because of my career, so I don't want to ever play with intentionally numbing myself. Even when it came to pot smoking, I never enjoyed a whole day of being high - I like being totally in my head more than not. I look back at my most serious bout of depression and think that, really, if I could have been totally sedated for that time, it probably would have been better, but would I have known to come off the drugs? Would I have know that I'd passed through the darkness to the other side? I don't know, how can I trust that the drugged me would be able to judge these things? I think about this a lot, because if the depression comes on again, which I hope it never does, I know that I could never make it to the other side on sheer strength alone again. I think of one of my lost cause friends - the one who fried his seratonin receptors on E - and his life on anti-depressants. Sure a part of his brain was toasted by the drugs, but he's been on any combination of prescriptions for about 6 years now, and he is now a shell - my buddy is mostly gone. My 36 year old buddy is in his parent's basement right now, where he always is, or his body is, but where is my buddy? If the drugs have miraculously fixed him, will he, or his doctor, know this and take him off the drugs? Or is it just assumed that the fog is a perminant coping thing so that mom and dad don't have to face real feelings and talk about real things? I don't know, and I don't trust.
The human mind is so fragile - you've seen it, Paul, and you're grappling with it, Bozack, and I constantly live with the fear that my spirit will break. I think it's unfair to come out for or against psychiatric drugs - it's not even a personal thing - it's a case-by-case and moment by moment thing. Tomorrow, one of us could turn a corner and find ourselves in front of a maniac crushing several childrens' heads in with a rusty pipe, and our minds may not be able to handle this, and we may choose to take a little vacation from our own heads, and if we do - that's gotta' be okay, and if we instead choose to limp through it on our own - that's gotta' be okay too.
I look at my future and think, well if the really dark days come ever again, I know I have to choose either the drugs or death. I know, having waded through it once, that I couldn't make it through again, fully aware and feeling it. I don't ever want to take the drugs, but I'm pretty certain that the answer would be yes should I ever have to cross that bridge again - it was too dark and too terrible, and I know that I can't go there again.
I'm deeply, deeply skeptical of Big Pharama, and certainly as someone who interacts with little sniffers every day, I am deeply angered at the number of spirited children labelled as "disordered" and drugged. I know the path we, as a North American society, are taking is the lazy one: teachers and even parents don't want to deal with the stand out students anymore, so the solution is to get the ADHD or ADD or HD label stamped and the drugs swallowed. It sickens me. I also know that when it comes to adults too many of us choose to lead thoughtless lives, where even if the emotional pain we feel has a legitimate grounding, we choose to take a pill instead of doing the hard work of finding the core of the hurt or taking the difficult road of healing from the past. This also deeply worries me, and is why I've always refused the meds when the script has been pushed under my nose. But now that I've spent five years examining my pain and healing from it, I feel pretty confident that I've looked at all the angles. I've looked at the hurt and said: "Hey, I know you. I know where you came from, and why you're in me, and I'm glad to see you're going away, and I hope it's a long, long trip away, but if you do come back, I'll know you right off the hop, and I'm not going to put up with you anymore." Not as many people as should take the time to examine their shit before diving into the sea of meds, but I feel like Paul and Bozack, that both of you are on the path to "Know thine self," and an important part of knowing yourself is knowing the breadth of your spirit and how much you can take. I know exactly how much I can take, and Paul you probably know from having seen the beast, and having it brush past you, just how far down you're willing to go too, and maybe it's a fight to the death for you. And Bozack, it sounds like you're right in the middle of figuring it all out. All of us have the capacity to step outside ourselves and decide our path, y'know.
It's very early on a Saturday morn' and maybe I should get some sleep. I'm not too sure where I was heading with all this. Mostly that I'm here for you two and everyone, should you hear voices, or if you are not sure if you can come off the drugs without flaking. And I suppose if this was a rant for anything, it was the rant for free choice, to use drugs legal or not, as long as the choice is one that is throughly examined.
Bosack: In regard to your "will the mild pot butter work question," I say probably not. I've done the gross strong butter, and I was out of it just as if I'd smoke hash oil, and when it came to the weak stuff, basically, I felt nothing. Depending on how much you usually smoke of course, and where your tolerance level is, this is basically a non-science that you probably don't want to fuck with. In the past we have made weak pot butter out of leftover scratch we had lying around, and the result was, basically that we felt no difference in our day-to-day world. I briefly had a strong interest in making a nice dinner, but I am generally a light-weight, and if - and it's a big question mark "if" - if I felt anything at all it was very, very fleeting. There was no euphoria so to speak.
My personal suggestion to you is to prep. your employer with a semi-fudged explaination: Something like: "Just so you know, I'm dealing with some family problems that I'd rather not gointo, and I may be a little off kilter, or need to take a stress day over the next couple weeks, but I assure you that this will only effect me for a short period, and soon enough I'll be back to my happy-go-lucky self." If you preset the fact that you don't want to talk about the issue, your employer will likely be understanding, and will probably assume that there is an illness, divorce, etc. going on and respect your privacy. Just be polite but firm about not wanting to discuss the details - your boss doesn't need to know that the "family" member having the problem is you. I know I told a boss basically the same thing when some bad shit was going down in my life, and my somewhat erratic behaviour was accepted as me "greiving" or being stressed. I can understand why you wouldn't want to tell your boss the full story, since the whole stigma is there, hopefully only with one or two people you work with, but, yeah, I understand why you don't want your boss to think you're a nutter. Still, why not at least clue him/her in to the fact the you will be a little weird over the weeks you're coming off meds, so that if it turns out you need to go smoke a doobie on you lunch break, that he/she will already anticipate that you will be a tad of kilter, and not instantly think that you are high or crazy. I think this is the smartest solution, and probably a mature way to approach things in a way that will maintain the respect of everyone involved. It's a courtesey to you boss and coworkers, and they'll assume you're a kind and sensative young lad (which you are anyway), likely caring for an ailing aunt, or helping a sibling through a difficult divorce (which you aren't, but these are their assumptions, not yours!).
Or you could just full out lie and say you have an out of town wedding or funeral you need to attend and take the time off, but I imagine you need/want the income, and need/want to maintain some sense of normalcy while coming off, so you know whatever.
Do I win the longest post of the week award?
-
Do I win the longest post of the week award?
You win a little can of Dr. Pepper.
But it was a post filled with useful information. Thank you.
-
I stopped smoking pot for two reasons. First, roundabout when I turned 27, I just lost the ability to handle the stuff. I would smoke, be high for 45 minutes, turn into a bag of lead for two hours and then spend the next two days with my thinking processes noticeably slowed down. It ceased to be fun.
Second, my stoner buddy moved out of town. And since then I just never felt the deep urge to continue with it. I've been high a few times since then, and just don't have any deep urge to smoke the stuff anymore.
If they made a drug that made music sound as good as it does when I'm stoned and had no other effects, I would keep a bowl of it on my desk. Some of my fondest (blurry) memories are of being turned on to music I'd never gotten into before, like the Pixies' Surfer Rosa and Laurie Anderson's Strange Angels. Oh well.
Bozack: pot brownies!
-
Although I can't offer any personal experiences with recreational drugs or psychological medication, I've had a lot of experience dealing with people on both. Here's my long-winded opinion/philosophy -- Though I use words like "should" and "you need to" throughout, remember that I'm only really able to speak for me.
Sometimes antidepressants can help. One of my best friends in high school/college had bouts of severe depression. He went to counseling first, and was on antidepressants for about four months while he continued the counseling. Eventually he was able to work through the depression and learn the tools for dealing with it on his own, and he went off the medication. When he began the medication was also worried about his writing, but he later told me that not wanting to die helped his writing a lot more.
The lesson I'd take from his experience is that the knowledge that you can gain with a good therapist is the most important way to treat depression, and to be wary of anything anyone prescribes for you for an indefinite period. I'm of the opinion that any therapy without an "exit strategy" isn't really a therapy. It'd be like planning to use a nicotine patch for the rest of your life -- your goal should be to help yourself deal with your own brain chemistry.
In other words, while I think pharmaceuticals are overprescribed in general, they are not necessarily bad things if you are aware of their risks before their benefits, use them for limited periods, and are overly cautious about them. Sometimes you simply can't "get over" something without help. Sometimes it is a chemical problem. The important thing is to find a professional who can help you find that balance.
Personal stuff: I've got ADD. It's been pretty obvious for a while. I don't and never have dealt with it through medication, since it first started affecting me when ADD kids were still "energetic" and had to learn how to behave. I just know that if I don't have a written record of something, I won't remember it. I do my best to get as much sleep as I can. I have as many bills as possible paid through automatic debit, and overpay the others so there's always a positive balance when I inevitably forget one month. When it's obvious that I'm not able to address a problem clearly, I take a break to feed my brain some different experiences so it will come back to work with me. That's what's mostly worked for me.
I guess what I'm saying is that it might be possible to deal with problems without drugs, but be wary of either extreme regarding their use. Mindless acceptance or rejection can both be damaging. Either way the most important thing you can do is train your mind to deal with your problems, and that's something very few people can do on their own. I hope this therapist will help you be able to do that, and that whatever support we've offered here can help you make it through the trial you've got ahead.
-
if all you have is a hammer, everything begins to look like a nail.
and there are these fuck*ng guys, and they have a real fuck*ng big hammer.
and you, me, and that guy standing over there, and there, and there are all just nails to be pounded on.
and it's not anything new, because they've been doing it since the dawn of time.
but the drugs, man they are scary. just a big fuck*ng hammer, ready to pound on you.
and, ya, there are a lot nails out there, that do need hammering. a nail's supposed to be in the bag with other nails, or hammered into something. so a nail that's halfway in, it needs to be hammered in. that's what a hammer is for.
but those fuckers with their hammer, they sure seem to take an almost joy out of hammering things that aren't nails, at looking at you and saying "you are a motherfuck*ng nail and i'm going to hammer you".
and i think, on somedays, that they KNOW you aren't a nail.
and i think, on other days, that they don't know you aren't a nail, that they honestly think you are a nail, and they fully feel justified in bringing the hammer down.
and now you got adverts on the telivision, you got marketing psycho-engineering you and me to believe that we are nails and that we need the hammer.
they are trying to convince you and i that we _want_ to be hammered.
that's what kills me.
i'm not a fuck*ng nail, put the fuck*ng hammer down, take a god damned second and look and get a 5/6's and turn me down a quarter turn, but just stop hammering on me.
how many generations did it take to go from "mind your own fuck*ng business" to "who wouldn't think one-size-fits-all is the best for everyone"?
ah, one.
ah, two.
ah, three.
CRUNCH.
-
Drugs can be good. But when they aren't, I'm sitting in the subway on the ride home from work with the sweats, clutching my elbows and trying not to throttle the two dumbass guys (who actually, at one point, admitted to being 25) who kept trying to repeat old Carlin routines and fuck*ng them up mercilessly. I swear to FUCK, if I could take one subway ride in New York without being a)hassled for money, b)played mariachi music that I don't want to hear, c)told, in depth, that someone is a ho, c)getting crushed by some asshole who apparently has buboes in his groin, thus requiring him to open his legs as wide as possible, or d)ALL OF THE ABOVE, I think I would die at that moment. It would be a moment so far outside of my normal experiences that my cerebellum would hemmorage and I'd just die, right there, and maybe fall over onto the leg guy. Maybe I could bleed a little bit onto him, out of my nose or something. If I could go out pouring a mixture of mucus and blood onto one of those bastards, I would be smiling as they lowered me into the ground.
-
Oh, Bozack...
I too know the terrible yuckiness that is public transit, but I ride the bus, and almost daily. My anger level is never higher than when I'm crushed on a bus with someone whose shouting to somone on their cell phone about "that bitch."
I've developed two personal rules that help me get through it. As a public service to you and anyone else here who uses public transportation, I'll list them here and encourage anyone else to post their own suggestions too.
Rule #1: always wear headphones, even if you are not listening to music. (this discourages crazy people from talking to you, or if they do, it allows you to ignore them without feeling totally like an ass. Also, if you aren't listening to anything, you can intentionally experiement with pushing other peoples limits in subtle ways like leaning into them and you can then hear things about yourself from the comments of those who don't think you can hear them.
Rule #2: Always carry a small sample vial of perfume or cologne, or an apple and/or orange. If you are stuck beside someone with body odour, mouth odour, bladder issues, etc. it is always good to have something that you deem "clean smelling" to keep near your nose to counter the effects.
-
I can't help but wonder just how lucky/apparently rich I've been - everyone on the trains I rode to work were impeccably clean skyscraper types with WSJ's and briefcases.
The Bus I ride now is populated with 1/3 HS School students on their way to various private High Schools, 2/3 people heading to downtown jobs - the trick is to get on the bus really early. I get on around 6:15 and it's pretty OK. Much later and I hear it gets weirder.
-
Rule #1: always wear headphones, even if you are not listening to music. (this discourages crazy people from talking to you, or if they do, it allows you to ignore them without feeling totally like an ass.
I second this advice, useful for many public situations.
I grew up in NYC and didn't learn to drive till an advanced age so I always took public transit everywhere and didn't think anything of it. But now that I've been driving to work for a couple of years, getting on the subway is such a shock. And this is the DC Metro, where one generally feels not adequately dressed up if one is wearing jeans. It's pretty civilized. But now I am so shocked by all these people in my space.
-
And this is the DC Metro, where one generally feels not adequately dressed up if one is wearing jeans. It's pretty civilized. But now I am so shocked by all these people in my space.
As somebody who only takes the metro on weekends and at night I must say, wtf?
-
I rode the subway all over London and it was a pleasurable experience. Everything was (relatively) clean and seemed to be running efficiently. I was never hassled for money and I never encountered any menacing freaks even late at night. In fact i'm quite sure I was the freak because I didn't avoid eye contact and said howdy to anyone who sat or stood near me. You'd be amazed how disarming friendliness can be.
~Paul
-
Thank you Melanie for the advice. It is well recieved. I didn't smoke pot this weekend, but it was more due to fear of punishment than fear of psychosis. Although this (http://achewood.plagiarist.com/viewtopic.php?t=2300) may suggest otherwise, I am doing perfectly fine.
~Paul
-
Yeah, you definitly don't want that car taken away due to punishment. That would suck.
-
I love public transportation, especially the train. I could ride on the train just for fun for hours, listening to music and daydreaming.
Amtrack long distance rail is of course more fun and much nicer than regional Septa rail (Philly's transit system) but even the nasty-ass local trains are nice to ride on. I love hearing the stop announcements, watching people get on and off, watching people sitting waiting for the train, watching the landscape blow by... it is relaxing and enjoyable, even when really busy and crowded.
Of course, being a man of gravity, I am aware that other people dread watching me walk down the aisle, hoping that I will not squeeze-in next to them. And usually I'll just stand if there isn't ample room. I don't want to be packed in tightly with some stranger.
-
headphones will also help keep wind from blowing into your ear canal and making you die with the fever and the pain.
jough is right, trains are fun. woooo, wooooo.
that clickety clack clack is an amazing sound.
wooo, woooo!
-
And this is the DC Metro, where one generally feels not adequately dressed up if one is wearing jeans. It's pretty civilized. But now I am so shocked by all these people in my space.
As somebody who only takes the metro on weekends and at night I must say, wtf?
I guess it makes sense it's different at off hours, but try a rush hour sometime. It's like you're standing around some government office but with a strange hallucination that it's moving. It's not like this in NY where there are all classes of people regardless of the time.
-
My wife finds that she hates humanity much less when she rides to work on the El instead of drives. Driving brings Chicago drivers. Driving brings anger.
-
What johnny cash album should I get?
-
I love the London subway. The early lines are quaint and fun (except if you are in rush hour in a popular station), and the recently-built lines are from the future. Everything's generally as clean as can be expected, and people are generally nice*. If you know your line changes beforehand, it's possible to transfer really quickly through them. I had fun doing it, and I'm not sure why.
For reference, the Paris Metro smells like feet. Feet soaked in cheese. It's pretty much clean, but since most trains use rubber wheels and there really isn't much ventilation... cheesefeetass.
I really do have to agree with the headphones thing. You automatically create a bubble of indifference around yourself, which can be a powerful weapon. I like the rubberized earbud style, which blocks quite a bit of sound even when there's no music. Kind of nod your head to some beat and people will leave you alone unless they want money. Keep nodding and even those people will go away. Power!
* Except for the girl who tried to pick my pocket just as the doors were closing. But even she was polite about it, and I didn't have my wallet in my back pocket anyway 'cause I'm paranoid like that.
-
My wife finds that she hates humanity much less when she rides to work on the El instead of drives. Driving brings Chicago drivers. Driving brings anger.
I used to agree with this. But now I find that people on the subway can make me just as annoyed. They are walking too slowly in front of me or they are standing still on the escalator and not letting anyone by or they are wearing shoes that no mortal woman should reward the shoe industry for producing.
-
I used to agree with this. But now I find that people on the subway can make me just as annoyed. They are walking too slowly in front of me or they are standing still on the escalator and not letting anyone by or they are wearing shoes that no mortal woman should reward the shoe industry for producing.
Stand right, walk left. It's not calculus here, people. Why do we waste the time of school children everywhere with cursive writing and how to improperly address a letter but we can't teach "stand right, walk left"?
-
Stand right, walk left. It's not calculus here, people. Why do we waste the time of school children everywhere with cursive writing and how to improperly address a letter but we can't teach "stand right, walk left"?
Not many people understand this concept. I don't use public transportation often because I don't live in the city but I witness the same thing on the highway every time I drive. Drive on the right, pass on the left. DON'T LINGER IN THE LEFT LANE! At least while on foot you can push your way through or say "excuse me". Nudging in a car isn't such a hot idea and even a polite flash of the old high beams can get you the finger.
I've heard wonderful stories of far away lands such as Europe where most people understand these rules and driving on the highway isn't a chore. People get along and let each other pass. But that's just a made up story, no one can be the nice...or can they?
-
Stand right, walk left. It's not calculus here, people. Why do we waste the time of school children everywhere with cursive writing and how to improperly address a letter but we can't teach "stand right, walk left"?
Not many people understand this concept. I don't use public transportation often because I don't live in the city but I witness the same thing on the highway every time I drive. Drive on the right, pass on the left. DON'T LINGER IN THE LEFT LANE! At least while on foot you can push your way through or say "excuse me". Nudging in a car isn't such a hot idea and even a polite flash of the old high beams can get you the finger.
Come to Virginia. The legislature won't designate the left lane a passing lane for some reason. But on the plus side it is the law that if you flash your high-beams at somebody they have to move. So we've got that going for us.
-
I've heard wonderful stories of far away lands such as Europe where most people understand these rules and driving on the highway isn't a chore. People get along and let each other pass. But that's just a made up story, no one can be the nice...or can they?
It's true it's true! I went to Germany a couple years ago and drove on the Autobahn. People did indeed use the left lane to pass, then got the hell over. It was FANTASTIC.
I drove a Mercedes. But not, you know, a MERCEDES. It was the size of one o' them Smart cars. I really, really wanted to hit 100 MPH, but when I got it up around 90 it kind of shook a lot so I didn't push it further. Then when I got home, I was leaving the airport (on the Dulles toll road for those who know) and found myself doing 85 without really thinking about it.
-
(on the Dulles toll road for those who know) and found myself doing 85 without really thinking about it.
And this is unusual for that road how?
-
I don't know if I mentioned this here, which means I probably did, but let me tell you a driving-related tale.
A few weeks ago, I was downtown in Greenwich Village. For some insane reason, I decided to cross the street, on a cross-walk, when I had the little walking guy sign, and thus, the right of way. I don't know what I was thinking, but I believe I assumed that I would not be hit by a car, and when you assume, you make an "ass" out of "u" and "me."
I was about halfway across the street when an oncoming gypsy cab decided to turn left, on a red light, without slowing down. Said gypsy cab then clipped me on my upper thigh and knocked me onto the pavement. Then- and this, dear readers, is the best part- the cab not only fails to stop, but the driver gives me the finger.
It was the first time I was withdrawing, so I wasn't really thinking clearly. In retrospect, I probably should have taken down the license plate number, instead of chasing the car for three blocks while bellowing the word "Motherfucker" at the top of my lungs.
In conclusion, I fuck*ng hate New York City.
-
Damnit! It makes no sense to me! In the United States we love our cars, we need them, by some it is considered weird if you don't have one, yet we suck at driving them! What gives? I guess that bring up another question for the thread:
Why do the Europeans get this whole friendly driving idea and all that most of us 'mericans can think about is getting ahead of/being better than/beating other drivers? Oi vey.
-
In Germany, a large part of it is that the overall cost of being a driver is higher. It costs more to get a license, it costs more to own a car, gas costs more, and public transportation options are plentiful and cost-effective. And most importantly, you have to take a lot of driver training and the exams to get your license are generally much harder than we're used to in the States. So rather than giving a license to every goofball 16-year-old kid and letting them drive forever, they make sure people NEED to drive, and people KNOW what the hell they're doing before they're allowed behind the wheel.
-
What's all this about how great European drivers are? I have heard, for instance, that in Italy no one will even blink if you drive your car on the sidewalk the wrong way down a one-way street.
And Bozack, it is a shame that you hate New York, because, and I say this speaking as a native, you fit in perfectly. You had exactly the appropriate reaction to the cab that knocked you down. Taking down the license number is for sissies.
-
...Said gypsy cab then clipped me on my upper thigh and knocked me onto the pavement. Then- and this, dear readers, is the best part- the cab not only fails to stop, but the driver gives me the finger.
Dude, the same thing happened to my mom, she had a few minor scrapes on her arm and leg, but nothing serious. Thankfully a witness got the guy's plate, which turned out to be stolen plate anyway. Some people for Autopac came and took pictures of her tiny scars, then she got a check for over $8000. She was not expecting anything, so she was very happy.
-
Okay, a new question- Am I taking crazy pills?
At work today, a woman walked up with a copy of Jane Austen's Pride & Prejudice and asked if it was based on the upcoming film. Not if the upcoming film was based on it, but if it was a novelization of the film.
Also, a British woman in her thirties almost got into a fistfight with, first, a five year old boy, and, second, his inattentive nanny. Also, a male teenager ran up and tackled a female teenager who was trying to get away from him, while shouting. Also, a man walked around yelling into his cell phone for literally an hour; when he was told that he'd have to go outside, he nodded, walked to the other end of the store and then walked back. We eventually gave up on trying to dissuade him and began the much more enjoyable task of mocking him loudly from 10 feet away- he was so absorbed in his conversation that he never noticed us shouting, "LOOK AT THIS BOOK WHAT I FOUND. PERHAPS I SHOULD PULL MY HEAD OUT OF MY ASS."
Is this normal? I've had weird retail experiences before, but never so many in one day.
Oh, final thing- today I learned why we have a "no sleeping in the store" policy. It's not to keep vagrants from entering and sleeping; it appears that most homeless people just assume that if they enter, they'll be thrown out (the other homeless people come in, ask for a book of horror stories, and then, while I'm looking it up, stare at me while repeating the word "Horror"). Apparently, in the first year after the store opened, an older lady was reading in our little area with tables and the like. She set her book down and closed her eyes.
She stayed like that for several hours before someone noticed that she wasn't breathing.
-
The left lane in most places is NOT used for passing in the U.S., and certainly not on any interstate highway.
In a number of places a dashed yellow line means that you can pass on the side where the line is dashed (double line with one line solid and the other dashed). On a one-lane-in-each-direction road that usually means passing into oncoming traffic, if any.
The left lane is for fast moving traffic. Right lane slow, left lane fast.
In many places this is emphasized with the sign: "SLOW TRAFFIC KEEP RIGHT."
Also, trucks should not drive in the left hand lane. There is actually a LAW to this effect in Pennsylvania and New Jersey.
-
Also, trucks should not drive in the left hand lane. There is actually a LAW to this effect in Pennsylvania and New Jersey.
Around DC this usually only applies to Haz-mat trucks. But some roads (such as I-66) ban trucks entirely 24/7. The best part is this means that technically Humvee's and Escalades aren't allowed on the road either. But the police never enforce that part.
-
Is this normal? I've had weird retail experiences before, but never so many in one day.
It goes without saying that a fairly high percentage of people are morons and assholes. If you're cynical like me, you'd probably set that percentage pretty high, say 50%. But let's be charitable and assume it's only 10%. Let's be further charitable and suppose that those people only do stupid and obnoxious things 20% of the time.
Now, how many customers do you encounter in one day? Say, 200? So what are the odds of your running into 6 actively stupid morons or assholes in a single day?
If I had my stats book handy, I could tell you. But suffice to say that I'm surprised you don't have MORE experiences like this.
-
Okay, a new question- Am I taking crazy pills?
Oh Bozack, having worked in a book store for over three years I can tell you that the whole situation isn't all that unusual for the environment. You need to understand that your store is a place where various social strata that would otherwise never cross paths do. You have the intellectuals and the poser-pseudo intellectuals - two clans, who though similar in coat and markings, are actually natural enemies. You have the people who are functionally mentally ill and those who are totally off their nut – again difficult to differentiate which is which. Then you have the specialized eccentrics – those that have such a micro-focused area of specialized interest/fetish that it is nearly impossible to find common ground with. Some one will want a book on Siamese cats, and you might say something like “Oh, I like cats.” And the person will seem deeply insulted, and correct you that they are looking for a book on Siamese or maybe say ‘Meesers, and you will feel deeply alienated and wonder if the general public is actually made up entirely of people with no social skills. But have faith it’s just your store.
A bookstore story of my own:
We had one customer named Desmond who was one of the worst human beings any of the staff have ever encountered. Indeed, if one of us were to glance out the window and see Desmond we would argue over who had to help him, then everyone else would go hide in one of two stock rooms. Why? Well, one, he smelled really, really, really bad – like over-ripe cheese, death sweat, pickled eggs, stale morning breath, garlic and mothballs. This was a strong, all consuming stench that filled the whole store and stayed long after he’s left. Two, he was always sweating to the point where it was rolling down his face. Three, he had this long greasy hair that was just so greasy that you could tell, even without the smell, that he rarely bathes. Four, being one of the largest people I’ve ever met, and looks a lot like Veruca Salt after she turns into a blue berry – he has these short limbs are so disproportionate to his body that it’s hard to believe he’s real., and he was always out of breath to the point where him asking a simple questions took three times as long as a normal person would. Something about he mechanics of his being always resulted in stacks of books being knocked over. Five, he maintained a deep certainty that I and all other staff members were Arthur C. Clark fans, secretly hiding all the good books in the back room, and always treated us very rudely, especially if the out of print books he was seeking were not available to him.
So one day I’m in the cramped back room of the store, and in fact, our back room was so cramped that I had to lay down on the floor, on my side to check the books in the stock room. So I’m on the floor lying on my side between two stock shelves that are about two ft apart. A co-worker comes running into the stock room. “Oh, crap, you’re already in here.” Me: “Is Desmond here?” And indeed he was, at the precise moment that I was re-stalking the sci-fi shelves. I tell my coworker that he’ll have to deal with him since I’m busy, and I stay in the back room as long as I can. Then I come out and set one of two stacks of books that are to go on the shelves down. He sees me, but since I move quickly he doesn’t catch me and, while holding my breath, I get away. I go to get my other stack of books and I come back to find him standing next to the earlier stack of books, which is no longer an alphabetized stack but a messy pile all over the floor. He is wheezing with an Arthur C. Clark book in his hand. I smile politely and go to reorganizing the pile of books again. He smells so badly that I consider just hiding in the back room until he’s gone. He asks if we have any more Arthur C. Clark books and I tell him, no, that the one he took from the pile was the only book I had to re-stock, and that I’ve already gone through all the C’s and moved on to the F’s & G’s. He nods and goes back to looking at the shelves. I head back into the stock room, and again lay on my side in the tiny isle, checking books on the bottom shelf. I’m working away, when suddenly I smell and hear a presence. Desmond has walked into the back room and his standing over me wheezing and stinking. “Are you sure you don’t have any other Arthur C. Clark books?” “Yes the rest are all doubles of what is out there – and the stock room is only for staff.” He slowly leaves, taking the time to examine books on a near-by stock room shelf, and his brief presence has scented the entire stock room. Finally he leaves, we all come out from our hiding places and my boss appears from the other stock room where he was hiding, yielding a can of air freshener which he sprays all over the store.
-
If I had my stats book handy, I could tell you. But suffice to say that I'm surprised you don't have MORE experiences like this.
indeed, population density is a bitch.
a bitch, i say.
-
This thread has been decisive. I am definitely going to apply for a job at the local bookstore when my current job is over. I had no idea it would be so fascinating.
-
Yes, my SO has worked at a few bookstores in her day, and whenever she's there, she always comes back with a kooky tale or two. However, by far the worst was last summer, when Donny Osmond visited her humble bookseller - suffice it to say that I had NO IDEA that Donny Osmond had such a vigorous - nay, insane - following among middle-aged women. Women were shouting and fainting and assaulting and all kinds of madness - from a distance, it was hilarious, but if I were Donny, I'd be TERRIFIED.
And surprisingly short.
-
.At work today, a woman walked up with a copy of Jane Austen's Pride & Prejudice and asked if it was based on the upcoming film. Not if the upcoming film was based on it, but if it was a novelization of the film.
Oh and - how did you answer? Did you manage to keep your wits about you to be polite? I'm not sure I am qualified for a job in a bookstore, because I'm not sure that I'd be able to.
-
I was beautific. I said, "Oh, no, the film is actually based on that book." and then I smiled really wide. I have the best shit-eating grin/customer service voice in my store.
-
Jane Austen is one of the greatest novelizers of our time. Second only to William Shakespeare, I would guess.
-
Jane Austen is one of the greatest novelizers of our time. Second only to William Shakespeare, I would guess.
I hope she got to approve the screenplay.
I think 'Shakespeare' was more than one person.
-
I have a question. Why is it that when you're eating an ice cream cone at the computer you never notices it's leaking from the bottom until it's way too late? I need paper towels, a screw driver, and a shoulder to cry on STAT!
-
Poor Hobo, there are certain foods you should NEVER eat at the computer, and you have just discovered one of them.
Similar rules that I have learned the easy way, through other's mistakes:
1. Never put a cup of tea next to the laptop
2. Take the cell phone out of the ##### pocket before you launder the #####
-
2. Take the cell phone out of the ****** pocket before you launder the ******
Wow, wombat. I've washed a receipt before, but never an object like a cell phone.
-
My only impressive washing mistake was a blue gel pen, in the pocket of khaki trousers, which I still wince over. The word "explosion" was an understatement.
-
I hasten to clarify that it was the spouse who washed his cell phone, not me. The worst I've done lately is wash a tube of lip balm which also turns out to be a bad idea - if you then put the clothes into the drier, anyway, which sets permanent lip balm grease stains into the fabric.
It is one of my goals in life to someday always check the ##### pockets before I do the wash.
-
when using an automatic clothes washing machine contraption,
it is important to RECONSIDER putting bleach into the device
before in fact putting bleach into the device.
and keep reconsidering that decision until your consideration leads you to not putting bleach into the thing.
-
The left lane in most places is NOT used for passing in the U.S., and certainly not on any interstate highway.
In a number of places a dashed yellow line means that you can pass on the side where the line is dashed (double line with one line solid and the other dashed). On a one-lane-in-each-direction road that usually means passing into oncoming traffic, if any.
The left lane is for fast moving traffic. Right lane slow, left lane fast.
In many places this is emphasized with the sign: "SLOW TRAFFIC KEEP RIGHT."
Also, trucks should not drive in the left hand lane. There is actually a LAW to this effect in Pennsylvania and New Jersey.
Actually, in many states it's exactly the opposite. The left lane is designated for passing.
And chew on this. If you are driving in the left lane and there is someone behind you who wants to pass and cannot because you are in the way then you aren't fast moving traffic, are you?
The point is if you are keeping someone from passing by driving like Pappaw in the left lane -- get the fuck out of the way!
-
The point is if you are keeping someone from passing by driving like Pappaw in the left lane -- get the fuck out of the way!
Drive it like you stole it!
The last time I did laundry, as I was pulling my clothes out of the wash, I found out I had left a pen in my pocket, which had fallen apart (but not exploded). I found everything except the top, with the clicker and the little clip; I still wonder where that top went.
-
I hasten to clarify that it was the spouse who washed his cell phone, not me. The worst I've done lately is wash a tube of lip balm which also turns out to be a bad idea - if you then put the clothes into the drier, anyway, which sets permanent lip balm grease stains into the fabric.
It is one of my goals in life to someday always check the ****** pockets before I do the wash.
Your automatons have pockets?
-
Hey! Why do we get SIX asterisks when we type #####?
Testing, testing:
##### = trousers
***** = automaton
-
That reminds of a time years ago when I was shopping with my g/r, now my wife and bought 3 items
1 pair of trousers
1 pair of slacks
1 pair of #####es
They each had a different term on the label for what they were.
Does anyone have an idea what is the difference between slacks, #####es, and trousers?
-
1 pair of #####es
#####es? Where were you shopping, Fops 'R' Us?
-
1 pair of #####es
#####es? Where were you shopping, Fops 'R' Us?
Oh, oh! They sell the best cod pieces!
-
No preciousss, we shopses at Gollum's for our #####es, we does.
-
No preciousss, we shopses at Gollum's for our #####es, we does.
This sent me into a gigglefit. I'm just imagining the Smeagol vs. Gollum ads...
"We likes the customers! They are our friends!"
"No, they tricked us! They wants our fantastic bargainses!"
...This is the sort of thing that usually amuses me only when I'm on cold medicine. Odd.
"Come down to our midnight madness sale! Because the yellow face burns us!"
-
Uh, I have a question. I'm going to get my tarot cards/fortune read on Monday. I normally don't go in for the whole fortune telling/astrology/clairvoyance stuff but I'm interested in the process and my girlfriend strongly recommends this particular psychic. Inexplicably, though, I'm kind of nervous about the whole deal. So, uh, does anyone else have any experience with the whole psychic thing? Care to relate your experience, what you brought to it, what you took away?
I ask because I'm curious, and I'm hoping that hearing other people talk about it will help me feel more relaxed.
(100 posts!)
-
So, uh, does anyone else have any experience with the whole psychic thing?
Never been to one personally, but I've read a bit about how they work. If the psychic tells you something that makes you go "How'd s/he know that?", ask yourself:
Was that in fact something really general for which I actually provided the details? e.g., the psychic may say "I see something involving you and a car yesterday," which could mean you got hit by a car, you got a ticket, you bought a new car, any number of things. If you blurt out "my dog just got hit by a car," that's not any kind of supernatural gift at work, you just got led.
How many times did the psychich miss before s/he hit? People who swear by psychics tend to forget the "visions" that didn't work, and only remember the remarkable insights.
And finally, is that something unique to me, or just human nature? "You often enjoy the company of others, but sometimes you prefer to be alone." How many billions of people is that true for?
-
And finally, is that something unique to me, or just human nature? "You often enjoy the company of others, but sometimes you prefer to be alone." How many billions of people is that true for?
My psych 101 professor used to give out personality tets on the first day of class. A week later everybody would get an envelope with a description of their personality and would have to rate it's accuracy from 1 to 5. Something like 92% said 4 or 5. He'd then reveal that everybody got the description for Virgo out of some astrology book from 1982.
-
"Come down to our midnight madness sale! Because the yellow face burns us!"[/quote]
"It finds uss off Highway 13, next to the Hardees. DON'T follow the lights!"
-
No preciousss, we shopses at Gollum's for our #####es, we does.
This sent me into a gigglefit. I'm just imagining the Smeagol vs. Gollum ads...
"We likes the customers! They are our friends!"
"No, they tricked us! They wants our fantastic bargainses!"
...This is the sort of thing that usually amuses me only when I'm on cold medicine. Odd.
"Come down to our midnight madness sale! Because the yellow face burns us!"
This made me chortle in my cube. People think I'm not working now.
This could make an extremely funny flash movie.
-
"Come to Crazy Smeagol's, where the prices are so low they GOLLUM GOLLUM GOLLUM!"
-
is it too late to nominate this thread for best of 2005?
-
I was going to make a joke about Gollum/Smeagol and discount jewlery including rings... but's I'm too tired so make us your own funny.
When it comes the the psychic thing, try not to say all that much if you have to wait in a lobby area, as I saw a documentary on psychics where a "real" psychic debunked several fakes by showing how they set up an audio feed from the waiting area to a back rom somewhere so that they can learn about tidbits of your life and impliment them.
When it comes to having your tarot cards read, just remember that you don't need to be psychic to read tarot cards - the two aren't inter-related even though tarot cards are oft read by psychics. When it comes to tarot cards, I used to read them, and also had a friend read my tarot once too. I tend to be of the mind that tarot cards will trigger you to bring forth things that you are aware of unconciously - just causing things that are in the back of your mind to come forward.
Also, AD - I always thought that I was the only slacker who sneaks on the this board at work. Huh.
-
The only person to slack off and read the board at work? HA!
Sorry, what I meant to say is, I'm supportive of you in your work-slacking, since I do the same thing, pretty much constantly.
Also, AD - I've definitely been looked at very strangely for breaking out laughing in my cube - and the infuriating thing about this job is that I can't just forward them the link and have people appreciate it. Soon, I tell you, soon!
I think this is the first time I've used 2 non-consecutive exclamation points while writing, ever.