This is a story that took place in the late 1980’s, when we lived in Indiana. At that time we lived in Columbia City, Marion, Kokomo, and one or two other places that were pretty much small communities in the land of corn…
Anyways, one day we went and visited a zoo. I think that it was in Indianapolis. Though, it could have been in Fort Wayne.
So we went there and were looking at the animals.
Sad creatures.
I really couldn’t stand it. What’s the matter with people? Can’t they emote? Gosh! I was stunned that people spent a day looking at sad, sad, and depressed critters.
My heart was sore…
Anyways, we rounded a corner at the far end of the zoo, and walked into an isolated corner of the zoo, and my wife said “hey! look at the cute cat!” and she started to walk to it to pet it.
But I grabbed her arm. I told her “wait!”.
Yup.
One of bobcats, or lynx, got out and was sheltering alone in the isolated privacy of the end of the park.
Poor thing.
It was wild. And it was ready to defend itself. Ears up. Hair ready. Hind legs ready to leap. In a half-crouch.
I told my wife to stand by the entrance to the enclave, and not to let anyone in.
I then went to get a worker.
I found one, but she was too busy with something and didn’t have time for me. She was talking earnestly on the radio. But, you know, I got her attention and said…
…”one of your cats is out…”
She looked at me.
“What?” she asked.
I then pointed to the enclosure. And she walked over, and took it from there.
Sigh.
That was the last time I went to a zoo up until last year when I took my daughter to a zoo. And do you know what she said?
“I don’t want to go back to the zoo. The animals are so old and sad. “
She’s able to emote like me.
…
Painful.
…
Today…
When people say “never settle” does this mean you should never settle for people who don’t give you happiness?
I wanted to date men I wasn’t attracted to.
When asked I insisted it was because I “gave everyone a chance” and because “looks don’t matter” and because I “might find a gem.”
The truth is, I didn’t deserve the guys I liked.
I knew it. I knew it by the semi-faded acne scars on my face and the way my tummy sticks out over my jeans and the jokes I make, how when I say something other people sort of cock their heads and wonder where the hell did I get that from?
I’d spend hours on dating apps swiping yes on guys I felt I deserved and no on guys I really wanted.
Needless to say, dating didn’t go well. I found myself just really, really hoping they wouldn’t ask to kiss me at the end because I didn’t want to deal with saying no; I wanted to check my phone while they were talking even though it was rude, even though I wanted to care but I didn’t; even when I enjoyed myself I looked forward to going home alone.
I left every date wondering what a good first date should feel like. Should I feel smitten? Should my heart be racing? Is it okay to just feel content, like I could see them again except the minute I get in my car I forget what their face looks like because maybe I wasn’t really looking?
They say that if everyone around you shares the same trait, it’s not coincidence — something about you is attracting those people to you. So if every guy I dated made me shove my hands in my pocket so that he couldn’t hold them, then it wasn’t the men.
It was me.
I had the rather stunning realization that if I wanted to date men who made my heart skip a beat, then I had to… well, date those men.
But God, I was scared. Acknowledging that you find someone attractive is vulnerable. What if they thought I was too stupid, too ugly, too fat, wholly inadequate in every single way?
What if they weren’t interested in me? What did that say about me as a person — about my worth, my character?
Dating guys I didn’t like was safe because I knew I could turn them down before they did so to me, whether I realized it or not.
But dating attractive men?
Oh no. What if they don’t like me? Or worse — what if they do?
I wasn’t sure I could handle that.
Even so, I couldn’t handle another date with someone I didn’t like. Fuck “giving it a chance” — if you’re not into someone, you’re not into them. There’s no amount of well-wishing that will change it.
So I plugged my nose, closed my eyes, and dove straight into the deep end —
Without floaties.
When I saw cute boys — boys who wrote things I found intriguing, boys with good-looking faces and a physique I liked and ooh, you’re into that? That’s so cool! — I gave them a like. I reached out. I said awkward things. I bumbled. I was, as I described it to a date later, hopelessly myself.
And I started getting dates.
Some were awful (seriously, don’t compare yourself to Ted Bundy on a first date), some were marginal, and some?
Well, some taught me what a good first date is.
I don’t know about you, but for me, it is butterflies in the stomach and redness in the cheeks and flying in the door at midnight with no one to tell about how WOW WONDERFUL it was that you give the whole play-by-play to your cat, who’s just happy to see you’re willing to pet him for once.
It’s staying up late because gah, you don’t want the night to end.
See, happiness isn’t a gift. No one can give it to you and I’d say that no one can take it away. Happiness is what happens when you align what you do with what you want. It’s the serendipitous occasion of realizing that yes, this is where I want to be right now. This is what I want. You are what I want.
When people say not to settle, they’re telling you not to undershoot for fear of getting hurt.
Because you will get hurt. Any time you want something, you’ll go through fire to get there. In business you’ll lose money, in life you’ll lose health, and in love you’ll get your heart broken so many times you’ll wonder how it still pumps.
But the reward of not settling?
Is so, so, so worth it.
A credit card
Spareribs and Cabbage
(Zeberka Wieprzowena z Kapusta — Poland)
Serve with mashed or boiled potatoes.
Yield: 6 servings
Ingredients
- 1 tablespoon vegetable oil
- 4 1/2 pounds fresh pork spareribs, cut into 6 pieces
- 1 large onion, sliced
- 1 large carrot, sliced
- 2 teaspoons instant beef bouillon
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 1/2 teaspoon caraway seed
- 1/4 teaspoon coarsely ground pepper
- 1 bay leaf
- 2 cups water
- 1/2 cup vinegar
- 1 small head green cabbage, cut into 6 wedges
- Freshly ground pepper
Instructions
- Heat oil in Dutch oven until hot. Cook pork spareribs, a few pieces at a time, over medium heat until brown on all sides, about 15 minutes; drain fat.
- Add onion, carrot, bouillon, salt, caraway seed, 1/4 teaspoon pepper and the bay leaf.
- Pour water and vinegar over pork mixture. Heat to boiling; reduce heat. Cover and simmer for 1 1/2 hours.
- Add cabbage; sprinkle with pepper. Cover and simmer until cabbage is tender, about 45 minutes.
- Remove bay leaf.
- Arrange spareribs and vegetables on serving platter.
- Garnish with minced parsley if desired.
Talent
What is the funniest joke you’ve been told that you still think about to this day?
I don’t know. I heard this at Fort Carson, Colorado, in 1980. Soldier humor — especially in the Infantry — tends to be a bit dark, but here goes . . .
The Company Commander called for the First Sergeant.
When he arrives the C O says:
“Top, just got word that Private Schmedlap’s mother died. Please inform him.”
“Got it, Sir.”
So the Company is assembled for the noon accountability check. Per usual, he makes a few announcements then:
“Private Schmedlap?”
“Here First Sergeant.”
“Your mom just croaked.”
Schmedlap completely falls apart and passes out. An ambulance is called and Schmedlap spends almost a week in the hospital getting back his senses.
The C O is pissed.
“Damn it, Top. The Battalion Commander is on fire about this. I’m going to send you to Tact School. Maybe they can teach you to handle things like this a bit more thoughtfully.”
So, Top spends a week at Tact School. Time passes. Then, one morning . . .
“Top”, the C O says, “Just got word that Private Schmedlap’s father died. You need to inform him and I hope to hell you do a better job this time.”
“No sweat, Sir, I got this.”
So at the noon formation, Top makes a few announcements then: “Alright, listen up. I want everyone whose father is still living to take two steps forward. Not you Schmedlap.”
Find your Next Side Hustle to Make Extra
How can you politely tell someone to give back something that belongs to you?
Just last week I faced this. I had lent my neighbour a drill and an angle grinder so he could do some renovation work on his home before moving out and renting it.
A few days before he moved out he brought back my drill but not the angle grinder. When I asked about the angle grinder he told me he had already returned it to me. Hmmm. I told him I didn’t think so but would check at home for it, which I did and at my business in case I had taken it there.
I let him know I couldn’t find it and that I was fairly sure he had not given it back. He said he would have another look for it too but he was sure he had given it back.
At this point I wrote off the angle grinder in my mind and was prepared to simply buy another. It never occurred to me that he was stealing it, as he is not like that, my thought was he had packed it up with his things or some other person had taken it. Regardless I was not having a good friendship lost over an angle grinder that might cost me $100!
In the end I told him it would turn up. No anger, no accusation, I really didn’t care for the reason above.
A few days pass and he is now at his new place and guess what he finds – the angle grinder!
My text message back to him was – I told you it would turn up.
So for you; all you can do is ask. Something like, “Hey, remember that xyz I gave you last year? Would you mind returning it as I have to clean the widgets. Would you mind dropping it back tomorrow? Or I will come by Wednesday and grab it.”
But if they don’t and they are a good friend or family member then let it go if you can at all afford to. Weigh up the friendship versus the cost of replacing it and make a decision.
Things can be replaced easily, friendships not so much.
BUT next time don’t lend them anything – that ship sailed.
Crazy shit
12 Golden things you learned with age
- Your friends no matter how close, will disappear with time.
- The most important relationship in this entire world is the one you have with yourself.
- Nobody cares about your hard work, they just look at the result.
- Heart break and failures are part of life.
- There’s no place like home.
- Family and money matters the most.
- Book is indeed a person’s best friend.
- Physical activity reduces stress.
- Wasting time in regretting and crying won’t fetch you results.
- Whatever you want today won’t matter to you tomorrow.
- Your decisions define your life, not fate.
- Childhood is the golden time.
White women were highly valuable slaves in many Islamic empires.
What did your parents say to you as a kid that still affects you today?
Things my (adoptive) father said that still affect me today:
“I’m a little scared to be your dad, you know.” (This when I was a twelve-year-old child riding in the backseat with curious eyes. I hadn’t replied because communication at the time was a lot of effort for me, though my vocal cords were fine and I had been a talkative boy up to age 8.)
“Nightmare? Okay. Grab a cup and I’ll make you some cocoa.” (This to a progressively older me from 12 to 15, when I woke up from nightmares of the car accident that took my parents and the drug overdose that took my sister.
“Oh… oh.” (This when I finally broke through my walls and told him that I wasn’t afraid anymore. Verbally. It startled him into tears, though if you ask him today he’ll tell you he just blinked a little. That day was the first time I’d ever spoken to anyone since my sister’s death nearly 8 years prior. Of course it was my Dad.)
And last:
“He’s my son.” Or: “This is my son.”
This was the way he introduced me since the car ride to his house when I was 12. As far as he was concerned I was his boy and that was that. He didn’t care that I didn’t even look like his biological child, with flaming red hair to his jet black.
I love my birth parents and always will, but my Dad is my Dad and that’s it.
Road Rage
What’s something on an employee’s first day that sets off red flags?
I was working in the creative department of arguably the hottest ad agency in the world at the time. It was the 1980’s and the place was extremely casual. By that I mean some of the creatives were in full punk, there was frequently a smell of weed in the corridors, there were occasional fights, and often too much drink was consumed, not always out of office hours (not that anyone paid much attention to that, as a few people actually slept in their offices).
The management of the agency didn’t mind because some truly exceptional work was produced. The agency was booming, and if a little anarchy was the price, so be it.
We creatives needed a lot of backup. We needed secretaries to type up TV scripts and generally look after us. They were all pretty good at seeing what the mood was and going with the flow up to a point. But one new secretary came into the dept and I thought straight away “Hmmm…this is going to be interesting”.
For a start she was all twinset and pearls. Then she unpacked a load of squishy animals like a child might have in their bedroom, and arranged them on her desk. Finally she went around to each office introducing herself by her last name and shaking hands. People scratched their heads. She had come from a bank’s headquarters where everything was very correct and formal.
She lasted about three months and when she left I remember her being in tears and saying we were all completely mad. It was a shame because everyone had been nice to her. People watched their swearing around her and no one vomited in her typewriter, (which had actually happened before to someone).
Disney Lost $200 Billion After Elon Musk Called Out Bob Iger
Seriously, the CEO has a responsibility to understand his customer base. When a company fails it is because it no longer provides things that the customers want.
I got fired. My ex-boss is now asking for the whereabouts of important files. How should I respond?
I’ve had conversations with managers about this. It usually goes something like this:
Manager: “I can’t finish this project. I have no idea what Gary did with the project files.”
HR Me: “You have no idea where he put the files in the shared drive?”
“I think he kept them on his laptop.”
“You ‘think’? You weren’t tracking important project documents?”
“I even called Gary at home and you know what he did?”
“Told you to pound sand?”
“Pretty much! He didn’t want to talk to me! He just hung up!”
“Imagine that. We terminated him and marched him out immediately. You were pretty happy that day. What made you think he was going to help you at all?”
“I told him we might put him back on the re-hire list.”
“Oh you sweet summer child… so what did you want me to do about it?”
“Can’t we threaten to sue him or something? Like he stole company property?”
“Did he?”
“Well…”
“You weren’t tracking or centralizing important project files, but if it is on his work laptop, you should ask IT to look.”
“uh, they already reimaged his laptop.”
“Did you get a dump from his email account on the server?”
“A what, now?”
“Of course. Here you are asking me for HR advice and I’m sitting here suggesting ways you could have done your job. You lost company files because you didn’t act to protect them. You worked to fire someone we thought was essential to completing the project, but you didn’t want to wait. Now you look like you need a performance improvement plan for failing to secure work assets. And you want us to go threaten this guy with a costly lawsuit and an internal investigation which would likely document your incompetence. How is it that guy got fired and you’re still here?”
“…”
“I will talk to IT to see what we might have in his email attachments or if there’s a chance we can still recover something from the laptop. If we can’t, I would scour the shared drive with a content search because if you lost something, you’ll have to explain how you plan to recreate the assets you lost or you might be walking out of here with your own empty copier paper box.”
San Francisco crazy
What did your boss say to you during a meeting that resulted in you immediately resigning?
It wasn’t a meeting, but the morning breakfast where many of the local small business owners would gather every day. I was sitting at the large table, doing my morning crossword, when the guy I worked for started telling the story of a particularly difficult-to-diagnose problem we had encountered. He prefaced his story with, “my dummy, here”, meaning ME ! He went on to tell the story, telling of the various things we tried in attempting our diagnosis. He made himself out to be the wunderkind, when I was the one who had actually reasoned out the problem and came up with a solution. As he was laughing at his ‘dummy’s’ ineptitude, I calmly folded my paper, picked up my check, paid and left the cafe. I went to the shop, backed my vehicle in and started loading my tools. Boss rolled in about 15 minutes later. He came in, saw what I was doing and still asked me what I was doing ! He was totally clueless as to what I was doing and why I was doing it ! I told him, “ I rolled ’em in, and I’m rolling ’em out “! He asked, “Why ?” I had to struggle to stay calm as I told that I would not work for someone who had not only insulted me in public, but had also implied that I was some sort of idiot who had to be guided by his ‘superior’ intellect. The look of confusion on his face as I pulled out of the building was indicative of his lack of respect for me. He couldn’t understand how I had been insulted. The little story he had told at the cafe never entered his mind. C’est la vie et au revoir !
Is That What You Wanted Me to Say?
What is the perfect thing to say when someone is being rude to you?
It was 530 am and the starbucks drive-thru was already hopping. There were two lanes to order from, but only one had a lit menu. I chose that side, despite the car waiting impatiently at the microphone for the other. After placing my order, I pulled ahead towards the pickup window, where the two lines merged. The car still waiting at the darkened lane honked angrily, and a hand shot out displaying the middle finger.
I had a terrible head cold and already felt miserable anticipating my 24 hrs of trauma call ahead. When he did that I considered my options and very nearly went with my first thought— to slam on the parking break, hop out and give somebody an in-the-face lecture on manners. If he couldn’t figure out that lane was closed, how was this MY fault?? I was tired of this kind of bullshit.
But I live in Arizona. I was likely to get shot doing that.
Next I considered giving him the finger back. I leaned on the window switch, but it was locked, and that allowed me thirty seconds to reconsider.
I felt like shit.
But maybe he felt like shit, too.
Flipping him the bird would just feed into both of our foul moods.
I reached the pickup window, still stewing, and finally managed to lower the car pane. “$4.25,” a teenager named Robin chirped at me, and as I dug into my pocket for my card, wondering how a small cup of tea could possibly add up to over four dollars, the ultimate revenge for the rude driver behind me occurred to my tired brain—-
“And I’ll pay for the car in back of me,” I told Robin.
She smiled. “Pay it forward, huh?”
“Well. Something like that.” I accepted my tea and my card back, waved cheerfully into my rearview mirror, and pulled away, feeling one less thing was wrong with the world.
What is the most ignorant thing someone has said to you?
I was 54 doing a degree in education at an Ivy League university. Most of the students were in their early 20s and from wealthy backgrounds. Each student had to do a presentation on an aspect of teaching. I did mine on the impact of poverty on learning.
Several students told me quite clearly that they were not remotely interested in poverty issues.
Then one student looked at one of my handouts on my topic and said, ‘this is so gay, it’s retarded!’
I had had enough of this crap. I quietly said to the instructor that he needed to deal with this or else I would. He agreed wholeheartedly and simply reminded everyone to use respectful language. That was it. I was pissed. That was not good enough.
So I went to the Dean of Education with this. He was someone the entire university respected. He had also grown up dockside in Liverpool I later learned.
A couple of days later the Dean came to our class and delivered an hour long lecture on poverty and terms like gay and retarded and a bunch of similar terms. He talked about identity, and he talked about cases where teachers have been punched in the face for using terms like that. He went into great detail with each researched case and the results. He talked about all the ways students can sabotage a teacher’s car. He talked about a case in our own city where a teacher used terms like this and the student population took up a petition to silence her. Her classes were chaos as retaliation and she had to be moved mid-semester. Then he talked about ethics, personal and professional, and how they overlap. He went into some detail about what he would do as a principal to a new teacher who spoke in such a degrading way to, or about, students.
Then the Dean asked if anyone in the room had loved ones who were developmentally challenged or gay.
There were several. They were invited to speak about them, and they did, eloquently. It was heartwarming.
This is what the instructor ought to have done.
Coming from no money adds a dimension to perspective that is valuable and important.
During World War 2, why didn’t the Allies consider invading Indochina (Vietnam, Laos) instead of the Philippines which would force the Japanese military to retreat into China and allow the Chinese to have direct assistance there?
- At that time, China, the Soviet Union, the United States, and the United Kingdom were the Allies against the Axis Powers such as Nazi Germany, Imperial Japan, and Italy. The Chinese army is part of the Allied Forces.
- The Chinese defeated the Japanese in Indochina.
In February 1942, Japanese troops attacked Burma through Thailand. The photo shows the Japanese fighting in the jungles of Burma. The British were unable to withstand the Japanese offensive, and requested the Chinese government to send troops to Burma to rescue the British. On 8 March, the Japanese captured the Burmese capital of Yangon, sending shock waves through India.
In 1945, Chinese in Yangon hit the streets to welcome soldiers from China’s New 1st Army who had arrived to take part in a military parade celebration dedicated to the victory of the Burma Campaign.
Second expedition (Early 1943 – March 1945)
Between 1942 and 1943, many Chinese soldiers were airlifted from Chongqing to India and joined the ones who had followed the British retreat there earlier, they were trained under American advisors and became the X Force into which the New 1st Army and New 6th Army was incorporated, which was supported by American Special Forces in their field operations.
For most of 1943, the Chinese Army engaged in several conflicts with the Japanese Army while defending the construction of the Ledo Road.
In October 1943, the New First Army managed to defeat the Japanese veteran 18th Division at Hukawng Valley.
To secure the opening of the Ledo Road, the Chinese Army in India was retitled the “Northern Combat Area Command” (NCAC), and re-entered Burma in the spring of 1944.
The Chinese Army engaged and defeated the Japanese forces during various campaigns in Northern Burma and Western Yunnan and recaptured Myitkyina in August.
Allied success in these campaigns enabled the opening of the Ledo Road.
However, by the time Myitkyina was captured, Allied success in the Pacific theatre was reducing the significance of the China-Burma-India theatre.
Intending to coordinate with the X Force, Wei Lihuang’s Chinese Expeditionary Force in Yunnan, known as the Y Force, crossed the Salween River in April and launched an offensive against the Japanese Army.
Y Force was composed of two Army Groups from the National Army; 11th Army Group(Commander Song Xilian, Deputy Commander Huang Jie, Chief of Staff Cheng Gang) and 20th Army Group (Commander Huo Kuizhang, Deputy Commander Fang Tian).
By January 1945, the Y Force had captured the town of Wanting on the China-Burma border and regained control of the land route from Burma to China. The first convoy via the newly opened Ledo-Burma Road reached Kunming in February 1945
100th Monkey Theory
The video cuts off at the end, but the point is that at the 100th monkey, all the monkeys in the world learn how to clean the sweet potatoes. There is a threshold that is crossed, and ESP, PSI takes over.
As a doctor or nurse, what’s the most appalling behavior you’ve seen by a patient’s family?
My patient had just been vaginally delivered of a newborn baby who weighed something more than nine pounds. The obgyn had to cut an episiotomy to prevent a tear into the rectum.
During the repair, which took a lot more sutures than usual, the father asked the doctor to “tighten her up a bit.”
The doctor and I exchanged looks. I let her respond first, because I wanted to say things that were inappropriate for a Muslim and as an RN.
The obgyn said words along the lines of, “I’m down here repairing an injury that your wife has because she pushed like a champion when she could have given up and requested a cesarean section. She did it because she loves the baby, she did it because she loves you. I’m going to let you think about all of that.”
It’s been about 20 years, this was early in my career, and I don’t want to portray the physician as more witty than she actually was, but this is pretty close to an exact quote.
I am scared of dying. Can anyone help, and is there an afterlife?
My dad died in 1983. My mom sat and held his hand for a week until he died. He had such a look of pain on his face and my mom was very distraught that he did not have a happy death. I stayed with her for support and began calling family members to announce his passing. In the evening, before the family arrived, my mom asked me if we could be sure he was in heaven and happy. I said that Dad was very good at expressing his feelings and I was positive that he would send us a sign. We prayed and asked him to send Mom a sign so that she would accept his death with courage. Almost immediately there was a light shower that came from the west. Rain never came from the west so she thought that was a good sign. She then called my dad’s name and said “Valent, are you at peace and happy?” almost immediately the evening sun began to shine through the windows. The sun’s rays shone through the rain droplets on the windows and spread little tiny rainbows across the floors and furniture in the house.
My answer is yes, there is an afterlife. Dying is scary, more so because it might be painful. Death might be an end to physical life on earth, but faith will always help me to believe that there is something after death that is worth hoping for. Bless you, and I hope you feel comforted in all our answers to you.
Police say self-checkout aisles invented a new type of criminals
How do I politely tell my daughter’s friend’s parents that they are taking advantage of me by having me drive their kid to school events/practices when they never reciprocate?
When my child was in grade school, a mother down the block asked me to drive her daughter to and from school every day. I said okay, because I was driving my child anyways. The only stipulation I made was that she eat breakfast before coming to our house. I was on a very strict food budget due to being an at home mom with only one paycheck. At this child’s house, both parents worked full-time and had enough money to put their children in extra activities. I couldn’t afford this for my child. I even arranged any Dr. appointments, dentist appointments, etc. fora time after I would drop this child home. This was all because the older sister had to start school earlier and couldn’t watch the younger child in the morning. After the first week of the school year, this child came every day earlier and earlier. The father would drop her off at my house on his way to work. It got to the point where I was getting up earlier than needed just to let her into our house. Did she eat breakfast at home, NO! I was feeding her every day for the rest of the year. I mentioned to her that she was to eat at home. Did she? NO! She stayed in bed until the last minute and then get into the car with her dad. Never saw dad or mom except when dropping her off. They would do the drop and go before she was even in the house. Did they talk to me at all during the year? NO! At the end of the year, the mother came over with a gift card for $25.00 to the grocery store and a decorative flowerpot. No flower even. I told her I couldn’t do it the next year at that time. The child then no longer was a friend of my child in school and taunted him constantly. When the new school year came, another mother from the block came and wanted me to drive her daughter to school so “I could save the bus money and you’re going anyways.” I told her “No, I am sorry. I am only driving my son this year so I could get things done after school if I need to.” I then became the “bad neighbor” and not talked to again. Don’t get roped into this at the beginning. Just tell the parent “Sorry, no.” No reason, no explanation, just no.
Can overweight people tell that they’re full?
I will speak for myself:
I can’t tell I’m full unless I eat so much that I experience discomfort and, even when I reach that level, it goes away within an hour or so, and I’m often hungry again.
It’s not uncommon for me to begin eating a meal, feel painfully full, and only then remember that I’d already eaten a meal a little earlier, which I’d forgotten about. This happens sometimes when they offer us food at work. My official lunch period at work is pretty late in the school day, so I usually eat my lunch during my planning period, which is earlier in the day. There have been times when I’ve eaten the lunch I brought and then, maybe an hour later, had a lunch provided for me by the school. Halfway through that lunch, I felt discomfort, and only then did I remember that I’d already eaten.
Like C. S. Friedman said in her answer, this is why single-serving portions of food, while more expensive than buying in bulk, are so popular.
If you put me in front of a family-size bag of chips, I can easily eat half of the bag before I start to feel discomfort. So we don’t get big bags of chips in my house. We get the little bags. That way I know when to stop.
It wasn’t until I was well into adulthood that I realized I was missing that “full” sensation that other people had. I always just assumed that everyone else had more self control when it came to their portion sizes. The idea that it wasn’t so much “self control,” but rather their mind actually signaling to them that “you’ve had enough” was foreign to me.
Meals where everyone eats from the same source (pizza, pots of soup or chili, etc.) are particularly problematic for me. When we have those for dinner, after getting my first serving, I have to make a conscious effort to avoid returning to the source for more, or I will eat until I feel discomfort, which is way beyond what I should eat. What usually happens is that I will be the last to serve myself and, as soon as I serve myself, before I even eat it, I will store the leftovers, to remind me that I’ve already had enough. Otherwise, every time I walk by it, I will have some more.
I’ve learned another trick over the years. It’s probably not the healthiest trick, but it does help keep me from overeating. If I know I’m going to be somewhere with a lot of food, if I eat candy about 20–30 minutes beforehand (to spike my blood sugar), I won’t eat as much food later. I’m sure a doctor could explain why that works, and the explanation is probably that something is wrong with me or I’m being even more unhealthy when I do that. But I know that I’m going over to a meal at someone’s house, and I don’t want to overeat there, on the way there, having a few pieces of candy will help me eat less once I get there.
Gym Owners Are Starting to BAN Cameras | Modern Women Are BAFFLED
Is it rude to tell my father-in-law that he stinks? He finished his work shift and had dinner straight away without showering and reeked.
My father was a mechanic. My entire life Dad would come home sweaty, smelling of transmission fluids, mineral spirits, and all sorts of other automotive fluids.
And yes, it stunk. Bad enough that he’d tell me , “No Pumpkin, dont hug me till I can shower, I stink!”
One Friday night, I had come home from college and called him at work to meet Mom and me at the Mexican restaurant up the street from our house for dinner. He told me the shop had been really busy this week and he had worked hard to get all the cars finished before the weekend. “Pumpkin, I need a shower first, I stink.” I knew once he got home there wasnt going to be a dinner out, he’d shower and be tired. I told him I wasnt worried about that stink and no one else would be either. Because that stink is the smell of money. That stink proved my family’s business was doing well. That stink put food on our table and kept a roof over our heads. That stink put me through college. If someone was offended by that stink then I’d be more than happy to explain why my Dad stinks.
My Dad never worried again about how he smelled directly after work, and often used that line when my mom would tease him about coming in smelly… “Aww Mae come on, that’s just the smell of money!”
When someone has worked hard to earn an income to take care of their family, you keep your mouth shut if they might smell a little, because that’s the smell of money.
What’s something you did so well that it even surprised you?
In 1979, I arrived in Thailand to study Thai language and culture. I had a job waiting for me in Los Angeles, helping Thai immigrants adjust to U.S. life.
I was living with a Thai family and had brought some of my savings for expenses, but I had never NOT worked (starting at 14). When I heard that the language center where I studied Thai was looking for native speakers to teach, I shrugged and applied to work for a short time. I had no clue that I would remain in Thailand.
Teaching was one of a VERY few jobs open to foreigners.
When I explained to the director that my background was in business, not education, but that I had tutored Thai monks in the U.S., she waved my concerns away and hired me, saying that the school had a training program.
The one-week training did little to calm my nerves about being a teacher. I had adored so many teachers in my school life; how could I ever do what they did and do it well?
My first class was harrowing UNTIL I noticed that the students were just as nervous as I was. I remember thinking, “We’re in this together!”
For 7 years, I worked hard to find better, more effective ways to help my students achieve improvement. I read, I questioned, I experimented, I observed, I listened.
One of my most joyful moments was when a troublesome student thanked me for teaching him and said, “You have a teacher heart.”
Then I was promoted (unasked for) to teacher supervisor and trainer. I was stunned that I was chosen over many who had far more experience (and background).
I used my own struggles and experiences to find ways to help other new teachers.
I never stopped teaching, even when I was a supervisor. When I left that position, although I loved the work, I was delighted to devote my time to the classroom.
40+ years later, the covid situation managed to ‘retire’ me.
When I look back, I am surprised at how passionate I became about teaching and how flexible I was in response to students’ needs.
I am so grateful that life took me to where I needed to be!
p.s. No, they didn’t hold the job for me in the U.S.!
Have you ever walked into your house and noticed a sound that you thought was suspicious? What happened?
I recall how when I was a boy our family became very puzzled by a noise we heard in the lounge in our bungalow whenever we walked into it. The noise sounded like a little persistent rustling, tapping or clicking noise coming from the ceiling in one corner of the room. In those days we did not use the lounge very often, because with the extension of our bungalow we had another big “living room” space that had formerly been the kitchen but now contained sofas and a TV set, so we did not notice this noise for a long time. However when we finally did notice it, the noise was persistent and we were curious to see what it was. My uncle, who lived next door to us, went up a step ladder through a hatch in the hall ceiling and shone his torch into the dark roof space, and this is what he noticed in the corner of the roof space where we kept hearing this noise, and indeed was the reason for the noise. Do you know what it is ?
It is of course a wasps’ nest, not the actual nest in the roof space of our bungalow, but a very similar looking one. The rustling, tapping or clicking noise noise was the sounds of the wasps building their nest or moving around in it. It was fortunate for us at the time that my uncle was working as a pest control officer for the local council, and in those days the council would send him to destroy wasps’ nests free of charge if they were a nuisance to householders. He was soon able to destroy this one. Eventually he brought the nest down from the roof space in a box, and it was the first time I had ever seen a wasps’ nest.
We had of course noticed a number of wasps in our home at the time, especially in the kitchen, but the number was no greater than usual, because we were always visited by wasps, especially in the late summer. This was because a ditch ran past our bungalow, and wasps do like to make their nests near water because they need water to make the nest. Indeed in other years I often noticed wasps flying in and out of a location on the bank of the ditch, indicating that a nest was there. One year my uncle tried unsuccessfully to destroy one of these nests, but disturbed it and left us running away from an angry swarm of wasps. I received a sting on the hand in the process, but it was certainly not the only time I was stung by a wasp as a boy.
Harry Pothead and the Stoned Philosopher | Harry Potter Parody Part 1
This AI generated stuff is amazing.
How do I nicely tell my sister and her husband that I can’t provide them free food anymore? They come to my house on weekends and don’t leave until we eat.
Leave them there while you go out for dinner.
Then, when you see them arrive, meet them at the door with your coats on and tell them you’ll see them next time.
Then start not answering the door and pretend you’re not home.
Or, just tell your sister it’s time she brought the main dish. Then, it’s her time for 2 side dishes. Then, dessert.
Or, just tell her you want to have a private dinner with your immediate family.
Or, start showing up at her house right before you know they’d be getting dressed to come to your house.
Or just tell her it’s time for them to go home because you’ve got to get dinner ready.
Edited to add:. People, while I enjoy your comments and suggestions, I am not the original poster. I didn’t ask the question. I wouldn’t have trouble using any of my suggestions, but I would most likely use my last one.
Rather than telling me what you think I should do, or get all worked up at how snarky I am, click on the question and tell her. The OP will not see responses to comments.
Edited to repeat: Click on the QUESTION, then under it, click ANSWER. If you’re clicking Reply, you’re talking to me. Since the OP has never chimed in during this long exchange with me, I am assuming the OP isn’t getting some of these really great suggestions. While I appreciate 2.2K upvotes, maybe the OP could use a little support.
Plus, I don’t care. This isn’t my sister, nor would either of them be so rude. Tell the OP, please!
Harry Potter as a Dramatic Indian Soap Opera
So friggin’ strange.
Does working fast food suck as much as people say it does?
Yes, It kinda does. I work as a shift manager at a fast food restaurant. (I won’t mention the name, I still need the job for a little longer.)
Don’t get me wrong, there are some good days where everything goes smooth.
There are many reasons I hate working fast food.
- There’s never a fixed schedule. I have to find out what my hours are every Sunday. Even then, I have been called in on my only off day more than once.
- Absolutely no benefits. Except 1 free combo each shift worked. No paid time off, no insurance of any kind, nada!!! Just free food and a bi-monthly paycheck.
- It’s a very stressful job. When a car pulls up to to the menu, a sensor triggers a timer to start. When that same car pulls from the window to leave, a sensor stops that timer. Management wants each car to be timed at a maximum of 107 seconds.
- You haven’t seen how ugly people can behave until you have worked fast food. I have been pelted with coins, spat at, cussed at, screamed at, punched, doused with soda, and have received countless threats of assault, and a few death threats. People don’t respect fast food employees.
- It’s a dead end job. The most you can progress is to a shift manager. Don’t get too excited, they hand that promotion out to anyone who lasts more than a year. Yes, you’ll get an okay pay raise, but don’t expect your checks to be any bigger. The more you are paid per hour, the less hours you will be scheduled for. This is due to the labor percentage. The store computer keeps track of how much money the store is taking in hourly, and tells the GM how much of the money coming in is already spent on wages for the people who are clocked in. The higher your hourly rate, the closer you are to the first pick to be sent home early.
- There’s a HUGE language barrier for a lot of my coworkers. They are all from south America. They all speak different varieties of Spanish. They are really cool people, but it’s frustrating to have to pull out my phone to translate what needs to be done, or to simply communicate. Especially during a busy lunch rush.
I can’t wait to finish college. I graduate September of 2025. The moment I walk across the stage with a cap and gown, I’m putting in my two weeks.
What is the biggest scam an auto mechanic ever tried on you?
On my wife . . .
Front bumper of her car had been popped off by something trapped under it (dark, wet night: black plastic bin on tarmac). I pushed it back on, but was worried it might be damaged so suggested she get it checked. The dealer she’d bought it from sent her to their branch in the next town.
They said it’d cost £3400, including new bumper, new headlight, new wing, & re-painting several body panels including one at the back.
So she went to the Toyota dealer near one of her workplaces. Different town, different company. At first they said it’d need a new headlight, because the mounting point was broken (less than 10% of what the other lot said), but when they took the bumper off, they found the headlight assembly was OK: just the fastener broken. So they replaced it. No charge. Too small.
She saw the service manager looking at her staff parking permit for the local college. 😉 May have been thinking she might speak to colleagues. It’s a few hundred yards/metres from the workshop.
She’s been back there for other things since, so they’ve got some money from her.
What are some deep truth you must learn now or never?
- Stop expecting honesty from people who lie to themselves. It’s a really expensive gift, cheap people can’t afford it.
- Sometimes your old life has to fall apart before your new life can fall together. So, don’t hesitate to leave the past in the past.
- The job, the party, the relationship knowing when to leave is so important. Don’t stick with the toxic environment.
- Fitting in will make you miserable. Be your own uncool, weird-ass self and whoever still wants to hang around with you then, keep them close and be weird together.
- It’s not your job to fix insecure people. It’s your job to fix the part of you that resonated with your insecurities.
- At any minute, there is someone who can come along and change your life. That person is you.
Lord Of The Rings But in Jamaica – Lord of the Rastas
My goodness!
This is pretty darn CRAZY!
If I’m a defendant in court, when the judge tells me, “The defendant, please rise,” if I don’t rise, what will the judge do to me?
One of my favorite responses from a judge happened at a motion hearing docket. The defendant filed a motion to dismiss, and it was set on the docket with a dozen other cases for that afternoon (I had two of the other cases). The defendant’s case actually got called before mine, so I was present when this happened.
The judge entered the courtroom, and the bailiff announced, “All rise, the Honorable Bocephus Williams presiding.” Everyone except one fellow stood. The judge took the bench and called the first case, which happened to be the guy who didn’t stand. Again, he didn’t stand, just said, “Here,” when he heard his name called.
The judge then called the case again. The state, standing near a podium in the well, announced present, and the defendant, who had taken a chair at the defense counsel table, simply grunted, “Right here.”
“Next case,” the judge said. He then called the following case, my first, and I stood to announce my presence.
“Hey, my case was called.” The man interrupted from his seat.
“You failed to present yourself before the court; the matter was moved to the end of the docket.”
“But I was here … “the man began to argue. The judge struck his gavel and admonished him that he would be heard at the end of the docket.
One of the other attorneys stepped close to the fellow and whispered to him. I can only assume the substance of the conversation, but imagine it was along the lines of “Next time, stand up, and the judge will recognize you.”
The judge worked through the entire docket and, in the end, again called the original case. The defendant, being hard-headed (pronounced dumbass), remained seated. “Still here,” he said.
“Sir, you should consult local counsel and read the court rules. You have failed to maintain proper decorum. Your case is being moved off the docket, and a new date for the hearing has been set. Failure to follow the court’s rules will result in a dismissal, so ensure you are prepared next time.” The judge left the bench while the fellow tried to argue that he was there and ready to proceed.
Harry Potter but everyone is Gen Z
What row do you sit in in a movie theater? Why?
Always sat in the middle of the theatre in the middle of the row, dead centre of the screen. That was my favourite. Sat in those seats since I was a kid, when I went to the show with my pals, then sisters then girlfriends. Best seats in the house.
I remember when I went to see Bonnie and Clyde. Went with my sisters Lori and Tracy. The theatre was packed, only three seats left. At the very front. I got a sore neck from watching that movie. At one time I thought, “Wow, I could walk right up into Warren Beatty’s nostril!” The heads were so huge. Do you know what that scene was like when they shot up Bonnie and Clyde’s car when you seemed to be sitting 10 feet away? WOW!
Another time when I went with my sisters, I had a large drink and popcorn. My seat was still up and I sat on it to bring it down. I came crashing down in my seat squeezing my drink cup which exploded all of my legs. THAT was a very uncomfortable movie to watch, but I stayed. Lori went and got me another drink great sister that she is. She brought me a small one.
Always loved going to the movies. Don’t go much anymore. Just as good staying home and watching them on the big TV screen. My sons will take me once in awhile so we have some fun together then.
Is Marriage Actually Worth It?
Helen Beveridge’s Haluski Grange Stand Favorite
This one is a stand favorite. If you can’t wait a whole year, here is the Haluski scaled down.
Yield: 10 to 12 servings
Ingredients
- 1/2 cup (1 stick) margarine
- 1 large onion, chopped
- 1 large head cabbage, chopped and steam until tender
- 1 pound egg noodles, cooked al la dente
- Salt, pepper and garlic powder to taste
Instructions
- Using pot large enough to accommodate all the ingredients, melt the margarine and sauté the onion until tender.
- Add the cabbage and the noodles and stir to combine. Heat thoroughly.
- Season to taste.
Notes
Once a year only. Customers love it because ” It’s such a comfort food” Megan Schlow, New York free lance food stylist.
Harry Potter but the Matrix
These AI generated videos are next generation!
Normal human life is already hard. Prison life is harder. Animal life is unbearable. So reincarnation is a fucking joke.
What your daughter said about the zoo was great.
You must be so proud!
I am. You are really correct about that. -MM
Hello MM,
It’s been long time (probably since before the covid outbreak) since I’ve visited your site; it feels good to explore the articles and commentary offered. Your site is (still!) a one-of-a-kind. I truly hope you and yours are prospering and doing well.
To me, the ring of truth is not flashy or ostentatious, but subtle, with a quiet unveiling of heretofore unanswered questions – not to convince but to reveal.
We are the same age and grew up in an America that has largely vanished; a tattered remnant of the Great Nation we once were.
I am grateful though for what I have; I am a DoD mole gainfully employed and have been for almost half a century. I am a union shop steward also.
My wife of 31+ years (and my 9 cats – I do rescue) and I live in a good neighborhood and while I once chafed at living in Podunk, today I am grateful. There has been an inexorable decline of decency and law and order in our cities. We visited Portland in 2017 for our 25th wedding anniversary. I am so glad we went when we did.
One memory I wanted to share (the question about the theater seating inspired me to write) was of going to the drive-in theater. What fun. My Dad took all of us (Mom and my three siblings) to the local spot in our 1963 Chevy Station Wagon. I recall the clunky speaker unit that he’d hang on the partly opened drivers’ side window. Adjusting the volume, running to the concession booth to get Snickers Bars and popcorn and Pepsi; making the mad dash to the bushes if the line to the restrooms was too long (my sisters were jealous of that). The banter; Mom and Dad turning around, shooshing us if we talked during scenes; the final credits and the long line of traffic upon departure; getting home to continue building my radio from my Radio Shack kit (shortwave – it worked with a 50-ft insulated cooper line from my bedroom window to the far backyard post); one nine-volt battery and earphone and I would hear Radio Moscow and be enthralled. I could go on but I’m in the office and need to take a work break. I just wanted to drop you a line and wish you well.
Big thank you for this. Oh yeah. I do remember the Drive-in movies. Sigh.