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considering the breadth of the written word and your comparative youth, the second is far more likely.I would argue these are meant to be morality plays with respect to vengeance. There are works that show vengeance in a better light.While I don't doubt this to be true, it's kind of underscoring my point - I don't know them offhand like I do the ones I mentioned. So I either found them completely unmemorable to the point I don't remember reading them, have never heard of them to begin with, or completely missed the point of them being about vengeance...which is probably not a good sign.
What are they? I'm legitimately curious.
EDIT: Best pagetop alias.
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please tell me you spoke to him about it, lisamarlene. It sounds like he really needs to talk.I had the weirdest, best experience with parent-teacher conferences yesterday. It was one of those "wow, you really had better look at your cultural assumptions and quit judging people" moments.
You know my student with all the issues? The one who glued the hand-therapy plasticine in his hair and crapped in the bathroom sink and had the petit mal during naptime?
His dad came in for conferences yesterday. His dad is a tall, burly Mexican-American... looks like a cross between Javier Bardem and Alfred Molina, longish hair in his eyes. He drives the biggest pickup truck I've ever seen.
So, yeah, I assumed he was a tough, macho guy who was a little embarrassed about his son's issues, and that's why he does everything for him at home and why the boy screams if you ask him to do anything for himself. (Put on his shoes, change his clothes, open his lunchbox)
And he starts talking about how worried he is that anxiety disorders are genetic, because he and his brothers were badly physically abused by their dad and they all ended up with severe anxiety disorders (his youngest brother the most), and with different types of treatment/medication, and he sees similarities in his son with himself as a child, and overhelps because of his fear.
Holy crap.
Yes. I told him about the potty issues, and the hair thing (which Mom hadn't told him); he already knew about the shaking episode.
And I told him about my kid sister's diagnosed anxiety disorder and ptsd because of our own dad's abuse so he would know I understood.
So, yeah, we talked. And I feel now like we are on the same team.
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please tell me you spoke to him about it, lisamarlene. It sounds like he really needs to talk.I had the weirdest, best experience with parent-teacher conferences yesterday. It was one of those "wow, you really had better look at your cultural assumptions and quit judging people" moments.
You know my student with all the issues? The one who glued the hand-therapy plasticine in his hair and crapped in the bathroom sink and had the petit mal during naptime?
His dad came in for conferences yesterday. His dad is a tall, burly Mexican-American... looks like a cross between Javier Bardem and Alfred Molina, longish hair in his eyes. He drives the biggest pickup truck I've ever seen.
So, yeah, I assumed he was a tough, macho guy who was a little embarrassed about his son's issues, and that's why he does everything for him at home and why the boy screams if you ask him to do anything for himself. (Put on his shoes, change his clothes, open his lunchbox)
And he starts talking about how worried he is that anxiety disorders are genetic, because he and his brothers were badly physically abused by their dad and they all ended up with severe anxiety disorders (his youngest brother the most), and with different types of treatment/medication, and he sees similarities in his son with himself as a child, and overhelps because of his fear.
Holy crap.
Yes. I told him about the potty issues, and the hair thing (which Mom hadn't told him); he already knew about the shaking episode.
And I told him about my kid sister's diagnosed anxiety disorder and ptsd because of our own dad's abuse so he would know I understood.
** spoiler omitted **So, yeah, we talked. And I feel now like we are on the same team
Wow.
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I was abused so bad by my biological father my mom and dad went underground with us for fifteen years, every time he'd track us down with a court summons we'd move.
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And on a lighter note...
NobodysHome: I finally understand what a hipster is!
NobodysWife: Oh?
NH: Yeah! There are these guys in suspenders with goofy beards, and they weigh about 83 pounds apiece, and every time I see one of them I want to punch him!
NW: Yes, dear. You have learned to recognize hipsters.
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And from what I can tell, the entire San Francisco night scene is now hipsters and Asian women in ludicrously-short miniskirts. Seriously. Of the, "If I bend over to tie my shoe I will see your panties" variety. In 48-degree weather.
I figure the Asian women feel safe dressing so provocatively because they know they can kick the hipsters' a$$es.
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Even if I were a guy, I'd still learn how to cook. And wouldn't give a fk on anyone who laughed. It's my stomach, afterall.
I'd probably tell my kids, either you learn to cook or you get to eat out. I'd call it compulsory life lessons.
Look, I don't care if you never learn to cook fancy dishes - not everyone has the talent etc, but I expect you to be able to enter anyone's (well stocked) kitchen and fix yourself something edible.
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And from what I can tell, the entire San Francisco night scene is now hipsters and Asian women in ludicrously-short miniskirts. Seriously. Of the, "If I bend over to tie my shoe I will see your panties" variety. In 48-degree weather.
I figure the Asian women feel safe dressing so provocatively because they know they can kick the hipsters' a$$es.
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What's it like being the only morning person in a house on a Saturday after a late night out?
I got up at 4:20 am, played some Final Fantasy, caught up on the budget, the bills, and the insurance claims, wrote up last week's session journal, cleared my e-mail, had breakfast and lunch, showered, dressed, and am almost done with my chore list for the day outside of the stuff I want to do in the garage (currently occupied by a slumbering Impus Major).
It's 11:20 am, I've been up for 7 hours, and no one else has even woken up yet.
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Stupid postal carrier left a "not available for signature" notice after they didn't even ring the doorbell.
I'm hoping it's my CD. It's not like I'm expecting anything else.
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Remind me to tell you about our corporate retreat to Winchester Mystery House next time we get together. It was... hilarious, and involved the European group going off-path, hiding in cabinets, and popping out at strangers. I loved our European group...I'm pretty sure a bachelor/ette party is going to be nonexistent or an absolute joke in my case, seeing as the friend circle overlap is pretty 1:1 except for my work friends, and I find myself leaning more and more toward option "Oh yeah we went to the courthouse last week, did we forget to say something?"We went to the Winchester Mystery House and then out for crappy margaritas because I didn't want a standard hen night. I used the obligation of agreeing to a bachelorette to get taken to a thing that was on my list.Because *that's* going to happen soon. :(
(Hi is threatening to visit on his way to the east coast in April/May though! Hope he really does.)
But how have I never heard this story before?!?
Hey! 2024! Giant RV caravan across the southern US to catch the eclipse! Woot!
And geez, Hi. He hasn't even told us he's planning a trip. Taciturn fellow.
And...
- The higher-ups were sick to death of hearing our two managers complain that at least one of them should have a director-level position, especially in a department of 31 employees. Our more vocal manager was on the "hit list"
- A board member requested that the company find a place for his niece, fresh out of business school and ready to start making a difference.
What I do know is that "J" was appointed our director, and she was, without question, one of the stupidest people I have ever met. She took us from a +43% profit to a -28% loss in a single quarter. She gave all of our equipment away to our competition. She gave all of our IP away to Sales so they could give away training for free. And then she couldn't figure out why the department could no longer break even. To top it all off, she was always one of these hyper-chipper, bob-haired, smiling, petite women you meet and immediately want to shove into a trash compactor. And of course she constantly bragged about how smart she was, and about how she got 100% of the jobs she interviewed for. (Impressive that none of US had interviewed HER for this job.)
So while the department was imploding under her "leadership" and we were cutting costs and laying people off, she decided it would be good for morale to burn even more money by having a corporate retreat at Winchester Mystery House. She flew in all the trainers from around the world at a cost of tens of thousands of dollars, chartered a bus, took us all to Winchester Mystery House, and took us on the tour.
To say that our attitude wasn't the best is a wee bit of an understatement. She asked one guy to take her picture. He pointed the camera well over her head and took a picture of a tree. Then of the ground. Then burned a few more pictures of random things in the parking lot. And the whole time she was smiling and posing and utterly convinced that he was taking pictures of her. He finished up and handed her the camera, and she thanked him profusely.
So we started getting worse and worse, as bad as my punk friends in the 1980s. If a sign said, "Do not walk on the grass" our Europeans would switch to another language and trample the grass. If a sign said, "Do Not Enter", the entire European group would go in en masse. I'd like to say they got caught and claimed it was a misunderstanding, but there was no security. They got to go wherever they felt like. So they started hiding in cabinets and popping out at other tourists. They pretended they lived there and were angry at the intruders.
In short, they were utterly delightful and we loved them for it.
And that was the last we ever saw of them, because they shut down our entire department as a money loser barely two months later.
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Remind me to tell you about our corporate retreat to Winchester Mystery House next time we get together. It was... hilarious, and involved the European group going off-path, hiding in cabinets, and popping out at strangers. I loved our European group...I'm pretty sure a bachelor/ette party is going to be nonexistent or an absolute joke in my case, seeing as the friend circle overlap is pretty 1:1 except for my work friends, and I find myself leaning more and more toward option "Oh yeah we went to the courthouse last week, did we forget to say something?"We went to the Winchester Mystery House and then out for crappy margaritas because I didn't want a standard hen night. I used the obligation of agreeing to a bachelorette to get taken to a thing that was on my list.Because *that's* going to happen soon. :(
(Hi is threatening to visit on his way to the east coast in April/May though! Hope he really does.)
But how have I never heard this story before?!?Hey! 2024! Giant RV caravan across the southern US to catch the eclipse! Woot!
And geez, Hi. He hasn't even told us he's planning a trip. Taciturn fellow.
And...
** spoiler omitted **...
That's because Hi loves me best.
Not.
2024: That's so far away, Hermione will be a teenager and Impus Major will be OUT of college.
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Remind me to tell you about our corporate retreat to Winchester Mystery House next time we get together. It was... hilarious, and involved the European group going off-path, hiding in cabinets, and popping out at strangers. I loved our European group...I'm pretty sure a bachelor/ette party is going to be nonexistent or an absolute joke in my case, seeing as the friend circle overlap is pretty 1:1 except for my work friends, and I find myself leaning more and more toward option "Oh yeah we went to the courthouse last week, did we forget to say something?"We went to the Winchester Mystery House and then out for crappy margaritas because I didn't want a standard hen night. I used the obligation of agreeing to a bachelorette to get taken to a thing that was on my list.Because *that's* going to happen soon. :(
(Hi is threatening to visit on his way to the east coast in April/May though! Hope he really does.)
But how have I never heard this story before?!?Hey! 2024! Giant RV caravan across the southern US to catch the eclipse! Woot!
And geez, Hi. He hasn't even told us he's planning a trip. Taciturn fellow.
And...
** spoiler omitted **...That's because Hi loves me best.
Not.
2024: That's so far away, Hermione will be a teenager and Impus Major will be OUT of college.
That is a quintessential N.H. story, however: benevolent good humor layered over moral indignation, a slice of "only in California", a pinch of "I really like people. Some people, anyway", and finished off with a dollop of "when life is absurd, get subversive".
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...It's partly tone. Musketeers was, I believe, meant to be humorous. It fell flat. It fell especially so when you look at the protagonists vs. the antagonists.
** spoiler omitted **
Monte Cristo, by contrast, is set up as deliberately showing how empty vengeance is. You see the lengths to which he goes to, and there's some catharsis for the reader, but you do get to see just how much it's cost him to hold onto the grudge for so long. It delivers. We're not meant to see Monte Cristo as a hero as we are the Musketeers, so there isn't the mental disconnect. It's not trying to be funny, so it doesn't disappoint when the jokes don't land.
And it doesn't mistake a villain protagonist for a designated hero. I was never under the impression that I was supposed to like Monte Cristo. There's a vicarious thrill in watching him pull off his schemes, but he's more a force of nature than a character...
** spoiler omitted **I think you need to view the three musketeers as more of a common man kind of thing. Sure the protagonists are flawed in their own way, but that makes them human. Milady essentially used people as her tools, made them take the blame for her.Although Aramis does that in the sequel, he eventually regrets his actions. If Porthos went around cheating rich widows of their money, there's no mention in the novels that they parted on less then friendly terms.
In Chinese we have a saying "Yi ge yan da, Yi ge yan ai" which translates to one is willing to beat someone and the other party is willing to be beaten. If those rich widows so yearn for Porthos company that they're willing to be cheated of their money, then it is their choice, no? You do pay for pimps and prostitutes too.
Sorry, but I don't buy it.
A character flaw can only excuse so much, and this seems a flimsy justification at best. If this makes them "human," then the takeaway is that humans suck. Your covering
Once I've finished the book I'm on, I'm going to re-read the Musketeers with Scint's comments in mind. Watch this space.
It's (almost) never gaming groups. It's (almost always) family. Especially older, more conservative family with strong views of gender roles and gender separation.Wait, what?
As a member of an arch-conservative family, I have never experienced this. Weeeeiiiirrrrd.
(There have been “girl things” and “guy things” but never - NEVER! - have major family events had anything resembling planned exclusion. )
So... I'm not talking explicit gender exclusion...
...think about Thanksgiving. At your house, do all the women end up in the kitchen chatting and worrying about dinner, and the men in the living room talking sports and politics? And if a woman dares come forth from the kitchen, she is given odd looks and considered "unladylike"?I still remember the Thanksgiving at GothBard's grandparents' house in Idaho. We'd offered to prepare dinner. GothBard cut herself fairly badly and had to be taken to the emergency room for stitches. The entire Idaho side of the family simply assumed that dinner was ruined, because a man could not possibly cook Thanksgiving dinner.
Their astonishment that I somehow managed to muddle through and make dinner in spite of my gender was appalling.
That sounds both insane and dumb. And, no, that is not a thing with my family. (My mom happens to cool well and likes it and my dad has less interest, but I was taught - and failed to learn - the ways of the kitchen and my sisters and I were always out talking with other people. Dudes cook all the time in our extended family.)
My thoughts about women's place being in the kitchen:
** spoiler omitted **
Also it’s sonmuch warmer there in the winter with the oven on.
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2024: That's so far away, Hermione will be a teenager and Impus Major will be OUT of college.
Oh, I wasn't being serious. You're still going to Oregon every summer, right? So are we, so we just have to sync up calendars.
Nope. Sorry. You're not getting us to Texas. Except in a giant RV caravan with huge cow horns on the front RV and testicles on the back one.
Because Texas.
Even if I were a guy, I'd still learn how to cook. And wouldn't give a fk on anyone who laughed. It's my stomach, afterall.
I'd probably tell my kids, either you learn to cook or you get to eat out. I'd call it compulsory life lessons.
Look, I don't care if you never learn to cook fancy dishes - not everyone has the talent etc, but I expect you to be able to enter anyone's (well stocked) kitchen and fix yourself something edible.
Yeah... eheh...
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2024: That's so far away, Hermione will be a teenager and Impus Major will be OUT of college.Oh, I wasn't being serious. You're still going to Oregon every summer, right? So are we, so we just have to sync up calendars.
Nope. Sorry. You're not getting us to Texas. Except in a giant RV caravan with huge cow horns on the front RV and testicles on the back one.
Because Texas.
What's funny is the only vehicle like that I have ever seen in my life (old Cadillac with a massive set of longhorns on the front) was in the parking lot of the Sprouts grocery store about ten miles from your house.
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I had the weirdest, best experience with parent-teacher conferences yesterday. It was one of those "wow, you really had better look at your cultural assumptions and quit judging people" moments.
You know my student with all the issues? The one who glued the hand-therapy plasticine in his hair and crapped in the bathroom sink and had the petit mal during naptime?
His dad came in for conferences yesterday. His dad is a tall, burly Mexican-American... looks like a cross between Javier Bardem and Alfred Molina, longish hair in his eyes. He drives the biggest pickup truck I've ever seen.
So, yeah, I assumed he was a tough, macho guy who was a little embarrassed about his son's issues, and that's why he does everything for him at home and why the boy screams if you ask him to do anything for himself. (Put on his shoes, change his clothes, open his lunchbox)
And he starts talking about how worried he is that anxiety disorders are genetic, because he and his brothers were badly physically abused by their dad and they all ended up with severe anxiety disorders (his youngest brother the most), and with different types of treatment/medication, and he sees similarities in his son with himself as a child, and overhelps because of his fear.
Holy crap.
Was kind of (not the precise diagnosis, but that he suffer from some sort of neurodivergence or mental issue(s)) what I was afraid off when I heard about the little guy.
Hope you get a better handle on him (and his problems) now that you and his dad have had a candid talk, and get some better coordination between school and home implemented.*Gives both thumbs up to LM*
Keep on doing good work LM!
(and sneak in a hug for the little guy from me, if it won't scare him too badly ^^' ).
Even if I were a guy, I'd still learn how to cook. And wouldn't give a fk on anyone who laughed. It's my stomach, afterall.
I'd probably tell my kids, either you learn to cook or you get to eat out. I'd call it compulsory life lessons.
Look, I don't care if you never learn to cook fancy dishes - not everyone has the talent etc, but I expect you to be able to enter anyone's (well stocked) kitchen and fix yourself something edible.
Basic cookery is an invaluable skill, especially when living alone. So yes, add me to the 'everyone should spend some time in the kitchen crowd'.
…*Adds Kitty to list of FaWtLers he would like to cook a meal for*
I figure the Asian women feel safe dressing so provocatively because they know they can kick the hipsters' a$$es.
*Chains himself to the bottom of Freeholds car*
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I had the weirdest, best experience with parent-teacher conferences yesterday. It was one of those "wow, you really had better look at your cultural assumptions and quit judging people" moments.
You know my student with all the issues? The one who glued the hand-therapy plasticine in his hair and crapped in the bathroom sink and had the petit mal during naptime?
His dad came in for conferences yesterday. His dad is a tall, burly Mexican-American... looks like a cross between Javier Bardem and Alfred Molina, longish hair in his eyes. He drives the biggest pickup truck I've ever seen.
So, yeah, I assumed he was a tough, macho guy who was a little embarrassed about his son's issues, and that's why he does everything for him at home and why the boy screams if you ask him to do anything for himself. (Put on his shoes, change his clothes, open his lunchbox)
And he starts talking about how worried he is that anxiety disorders are genetic, because he and his brothers were badly physically abused by their dad and they all ended up with severe anxiety disorders (his youngest brother the most), and with different types of treatment/medication, and he sees similarities in his son with himself as a child, and overhelps because of his fear.
Holy crap.
Was kind of (not the precise diagnosis, but that he suffer from some sort of neurodivergence or mental issue(s)) what I was afraid off when I heard about the little guy.
Hope you get a better handle on him (and his problems) now that you and his dad have had a candid talk, and get some better coordination between school and home implemented.
*Gives both thumbs up to LM*
Keep on doing good work LM!
(and sneak in a hug for the little guy from me, if it won't scare him too badly ^^' )....Even if I were a guy, I'd still learn how to cook. And wouldn't give a fk on anyone who laughed. It's my stomach, afterall.
I'd probably tell my kids, either you learn to cook or you get to eat out. I'd call
CAPE FEAR ROAD TRIP
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I can cook.
I like to cook.
You want food, you learn to prepare it, unless you want to rely on takeaways or microwave meals.
Some people can't do otherwise, so no disrespect to them,
That sounds both insane and dumb. And, no, that is not a thing with my family. (My mom happens to cool well and likes it and my dad has less interest, but I was taught - and failed to learn - the ways of the kitchen and my sisters and I were always out talking with other people. Dudes cook all the time in our extended family.)
It's (almost) never gaming groups. It's (almost always) family. Especially older, more conservative family with strong views of gender roles and gender separation.Wait, what?
As a member of an arch-conservative family, I have never experienced this. Weeeeiiiirrrrd.
(There have been “girl things” and “guy things” but never - NEVER! - have major family events had anything resembling planned exclusion. )
So... I'm not talking explicit gender exclusion...
...think about Thanksgiving. At your house, do all the women end up in the kitchen chatting and worrying about dinner, and the men in the living room talking sports and politics? And if a woman dares come forth from the kitchen, she is given odd looks and considered "unladylike"?I still remember the Thanksgiving at GothBard's grandparents' house in Idaho. We'd offered to prepare dinner. GothBard cut herself fairly badly and had to be taken to the emergency room for stitches. The entire Idaho side of the family simply assumed that dinner was ruined, because a man could not possibly cook Thanksgiving dinner.
Their astonishment that I somehow managed to muddle through and make dinner in spite of my gender was appalling.
Hm. I would like to formally apologize for implicitly calling your family insane and dumb. That was... well... not my intent.
(I still don't get how one could come to that conclusion, but okay. It is worth noting that there are general presumptions about gender-based activities, but there is nothing along the lines of, "You are X, therefore inherently good at/bad at Y." - more, while mild surprise might be expressed, it is quickly accepted. As an exceptionally mild example: my mother-in-law is super into football and car racing, and my mom raised me with rather strong opinions about baseball (though I have since rather dropped most of them - right along side my kitchen skills*). My father is rather stereo-typically male in many ways, but also enjoys passive/indoor activities, and is exceptionally nonviolent (though there are stories about his youth, from him) and I learned my bookish nerd ways from him. He doesn't cook much, but he does help prepare dinner where possible and clean up thereafter. My youngest sister (the middle child) neither sews nor cooks. My wife has a powerful aversion to pedicures (she considers them slow torture). I'm the only nerd - my Dad was nearly a nerd, and I, again, learned my comic book, video game, and similar nerd-like ways from him; but my Mom was the computer and science nerd who tutored me computer games, math, and physics (though it's all very out of date these days - not that I'd remember it anyway). My father-in-law sews. Both of my brothers-in-law are cooks, though especially the one with my youngest sister. My point is, we're super-conservative, but that is not really a thing from either side of our family values. There may be mild presumptions and/or surprise, but it's passed rather immediately with, "Cool, you can help here do this thing!" The idea that anyone would be incompetent in a task because of their parts is just super-weird to me.)
I can cook.
I like to cook.
You want food, you learn to prepare it, unless you want to rely on takeaways or microwave meals.
Some people can't do otherwise, so no disrespect to them,
Hey! I have more skills than that!
(I can also make a box of mac-n-cheese and call for delivery.)
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So, I've realized why people hate the holidays so much:
You have a precious, precious 1-2 weeks off that you've been savoring all year, looking forward to FINALLY having some "down time", time to catch up on projects, or whatever.
If you're like me, you even map out the days of the month and what you're going to do each day to make sure you're not overwhelmed.
And then... THEY come.
Every. Stupid. Invitation. From every distant friend, relative, co-worker, or acquaintance, all of whom have suddenly decided that, because it's the "holiday season", it's suddenly time for them to track you down and socialize with you.
It would be nice if it were 1-2 people.
But when you have 10 invitations to 10 separate parties by December 8, plus your father-in-law drops by for 2 hours on a Saturday afternoon you'd been dedicating to chores and relaxing, it suddenly gets... stressful.
I'm going to do the world a favor and decline ALL of the invitations and not invite anybody to do ANYTHING.
I'll invite 'em over in May. May is a slow month.
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Most of this was pre-written and just needed a little editing and alteration. Future chapters are not as likely to come out so quickly as a result, but I intend to keep them coming. Hopefully you all enjoy. =)
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I just found out I can run 1.491 miles in crocs and a swim suit on a running track?
Freehold and Kjeldorn, stop staring. I wore a T-shirt and 3/4 shorts over it.
I wanted to go swimming later(which was my original plan), so I figured I could run in that instead of my ordinary bra(running in ANYTHING other then my sports bra causes chafing at the chest area causing painful blisters), and my sports bra was still out drying after yesterday's run.
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So, I've realized why people hate the holidays so much:
You have a precious, precious 1-2 weeks off that you've been savoring all year, looking forward to FINALLY having some "down time", time to catch up on projects, or whatever.If you're like me, you even map out the days of the month and what you're going to do each day to make sure you're not overwhelmed.
And then... THEY come.
Every. Stupid. Invitation. From every distant friend, relative, co-worker, or acquaintance, all of whom have suddenly decided that, because it's the "holiday season", it's suddenly time for them to track you down and socialize with you.
It would be nice if it were 1-2 people.
But when you have 10 invitations to 10 separate parties by December 8, plus your father-in-law drops by for 2 hours on a Saturday afternoon you'd been dedicating to chores and relaxing, it suddenly gets... stressful.
I'm going to do the world a favor and decline ALL of the invitations and not invite anybody to do ANYTHING.
I'll invite 'em over in May. May is a slow month.
is now a good time to visit for the holidays?!
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I just found out I can run 1.491 miles in crocs and a swim suit on a running track?
YESSSSSSSSS!
Freehold and Kjeldorn, stop staring. I wore a T-shirt and 3/4 shorts over it.
NOOOOOOOOOOO!
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Actually the idea to do that came from this.I mean I figured if people were to do things like the Ironman, they'd have to fit a swimming costume someplace and bringing spare change of clothes would start adding to weight, which would start adding up to the run timings. Over long distances, every bit of weight really affects your run.
Anyway, to be honest, Freehold, I will admit had it been early morning with no one else on the track, I would have taken off my shirt and pants and just ran in a swimsuit. I would definitely have been more comfortable since my shirt was partially soaked by the time I finished that 1.491 miles.
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So tonight my mother-in-law "invited" the kids and me to come with her (translation: drive her almost an hour each way) to a little town south of Dallas that does a huge Bethlehem reenactment every December.
I was prepared to be bored and horrified. And even though it was cold (okay, 39, not cold by northern standards, but cold for Texas, and we were standing around in it for two hours) I actually enjoyed myself. At the dyer's stall, the reenactor was patiently dying hand-spun yarn with cochineal dye, and she talked about gathering the bugs from the cactus that grow in the Israeli desert and grinding them into powder. And she showed us a small dish of the dried bugs. That right there made it worth the drive.
The "angel" was some poor guy stuck up in a deer blind with a fog machine. I felt sorry for him.
I felt even sorrier for the Romans in the guards' camp, because everyone else at least got to wear full-length robes, and they had bare arms and legs. I tried to bribe Teensy Valeros to go get an egg from the hen seller's stall to throw at a centurion and shout "Romanes eunt domus". It didn't work.
What was really funny was that all of the "Bethlehem locals" spoke with Texas twangs, but the Romans all spoke with British accents.
You know, because everyone knows they're the bad guys.
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So tonight my mother-in-law "invited" the kids and me to come with her (translation: drive her almost an hour each way) to a little town south of Dallas that does a huge Bethlehem reenactment every December.
You weren't terribly far from where my mother-in-law lives.
Most of this was pre-written and just needed a little editing and alteration. Future chapters are not as likely to come out so quickly as a result, but I intend to keep them coming. Hopefully you all enjoy. =)
Saving this f easy finding later!
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Hmm very serious day today.
I'll say never dismiss someone elsees problems because you think you've had it worse. everyone's life is hard in its own way.
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Actually the idea to do that came from this.I mean I figured if people were to do things like the Ironman, they'd have to fit a swimming costume someplace and bringing spare change of clothes would start adding to weight, which would start adding up to the run timings. Over long distances, every bit of weight really affects your run.
Anyway, to be honest, Freehold, I will admit had it been early morning with no one else on the track, I would have taken off my shirt and pants and just ran in a swimsuit. I would definitely have been more comfortable since my shirt was partially soaked by the time I finished that 1.491 miles.
Why do you torture me so?
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So tonight my mother-in-law "invited" the kids and me to come with her (translation: drive her almost an hour each way) to a little town south of Dallas that does a huge Bethlehem reenactment every December.
I was prepared to be bored and horrified. And even though it was cold (okay, 39, not cold by northern standards, but cold for Texas, and we were standing around in it for two hours) I actually enjoyed myself. At the dyer's stall, the reenactor was patiently dying hand-spun yarn with cochineal dye, and she talked about gathering the bugs from the cactus that grow in the Israeli desert and grinding them into powder. And she showed us a small dish of the dried bugs. That right there made it worth the drive.
The "angel" was some poor guy stuck up in a deer blind with a fog machine. I felt sorry for him.
I felt even sorrier for the Romans in the guards' camp, because everyone else at least got to wear full-length robes, and they had bare arms and legs. I tried to bribe Teensy Valeros to go get an egg from the hen seller's stall to throw at a centurion and shout "Romanes eunt domus". It didn't work.
What was really funny was that all of the "Bethlehem locals" spoke with Texas twangs, but the Romans all spoke with British accents.
You know, because everyone knows they're the bad guys.
That sounds kinda cool. I am sure I would have found something to poke fun at though.
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I just found out I can run 1.491 miles in crocs and a swim suit on a running track?
Freehold and Kjeldorn, stop staring. I wore a T-shirt and 3/4 shorts over it.
I wanted to go swimming later(which was my original plan), so I figured I could run in that instead of my ordinary bra(running in ANYTHING other then my sports bra causes chafing at the chest area causing painful blisters), and my sports bra was still out drying after yesterday's run.
The whole Idea of running in crocs hurts.
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I was testing a theory. The run squad on Saturday said the reason I was getting blisters was because my shoes were too tight for running (you're supposed to get half a size larger), so I know that my crocs are bigger on the width then my running shoes, so I was testing if I was going to get blisters in them. I didn't, but again I didn't run the full 5 km, because I wasn't in running shoes and didn't want to push things after yesterday's run. There might be something to what they're saying, or I need to get socks that absorb moisture off my feet instead of getting wet and causing excess friction.
With crocs my feet do not get wet because they're basically exposed so they can dry up. Not saying that running in crocs is a good idea, but I was doing science.
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I am ashamed to admit, but not having experience with mental issues, I would not be able to emphasize with those who do. So I would be caught rather off guard by that parent. Though actually my guess on the situation was that I was speculating was there family trouble(domestic violence) at home that's why he started acting up at school?
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The idea of running hurts.The whole Idea of running in crocs hurts.I just found out I can run 1.491 miles in crocs and a swim suit on a running track?
Freehold and Kjeldorn, stop staring. I wore a T-shirt and 3/4 shorts over it.
I wanted to go swimming later(which was my original plan), so I figured I could run in that instead of my ordinary bra(running in ANYTHING other then my sports bra causes chafing at the chest area causing painful blisters), and my sports bra was still out drying after yesterday's run.
When your right your right.
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I am ashamed to admit, but not having experience with mental issues, I would not be able to emphasize with those who do. So I would be caught rather off guard by that parent. Though actually my guess on the situation was that I was speculating was there family trouble(domestic violence) at home that's why he started acting up at school?
I have extended and in-depth first hand experience with it. Sometimes trauma makes us stronger and sometimes it doesn't. Mental health really should be treated the same as physical health. (You know as far as funding and respect for the sick go etc.)
I really need to go to Grad school :P
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An old man joke? Ok.
You are so old, that when you were born the Dead Sea was just getting sick.
Wow. Sick burn.
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I am ashamed to admit, but not having experience with mental issues, I would not be able to emphasize with those who do.
I'd kill to say that.
But empathy isn't necessary. You don't need to understand to care. Sympathy and respect are sufficient when you know someone who does suffer...and odds are you do even if you haven't figured it out. We live among you silently. Most of us are so tired of stigma we've gotten really good at faking normalcy. But it's like tensing a muscle; you can only do it so long.
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A few years back I saw TOZ say in a thread "I play Pathfinder because everyone else plays Pathfinder" or something like that.
Man I really get that now with my current group. They are f$&!ing married to d20 high fantasy. I keep trying to get them to try anything else for just a while, to break the monotony...Savage Worlds, FATE, World of Darkness, L5R, Shadowrun, GURPS, f%@*ing anything, and all they do is PF, PF, more PF, some homebrew modified PF, and PF again. I like PF but geeze...
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Yeah our group regularly tries out new stuff but at first we never played anything but D&D that was for almost 5 years if not longer.