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Zeropoint wrote:I don't feel like the hero of my story. I have LONG felt that I'm a minor character . . . at best the kind listed as "Technician #3" in the credits. Probably not even a speaking part.

The key to a good life isn't being the big bad hero in your story. It's being the "Technician #3" who gets to spend the rest of his life regaling everyone about the 15 seconds he spent in one scene in Star Wars.

Or, to cut the metaphor out since I know you guys can't take those.

The key to a happy life is NOT striving for the stars but knowing what you are and can be and enjoying that.

Achieving a lot, being a great person, being rich, famous, successful, important or feeling that way or any thing like that. Those all sound grandiose but they are also out of reach for the vast majority of people. We all want to be the knight in the castle owning half the land. But the way the math works out 99% of us end up being the serfs that feed him. So comparing your self with those standards is just setting your self up for failure.

What makes for a good and happy life is being content with what you are and have, matching your desires to realistic expectations and learning to appreciate and take pleasure in the things you have and the things you can actually reach with a reasonable effort. Instead of chastising your self for the things you do not have and have not achieved congratulate your self for the things you have. And learn to take pleasure in the little things in life like eating a nice meal, having a nice night out with your friends or spending a couple hours with a movie or video game that you particularly like.

Or in other words just stop that incessant thinking about life and your place in it and start living it.

Zeropoint wrote:

Well, change that, or collapse and die right now and stop wasting oxygen and things that the rest of us can use.

That's been on my mind a lot lately. It would be easy enough to accomplish.

You want the easy way out? Fuck that. Pick your back up, hold your head high, rear up in your dignity, and work for what you deserve, man. Or else get the fuck out of my way.

Zeropoint wrote: That's been on my mind a lot lately. It would be easy enough to accomplish.

You need to fix that, first off the page. Get some help, or, if you already are, get some more help. Find a support group in your area, because, you're not alone, and you aren't the only one feeling like this. A random bunch of strangers on the Internet giving you advice will do jack and shit for you, if you aren't of the mind to fucking take it.

People who've been where you've been, and a professional who's seen it all before are what you need right this instant(yes, I'm recommending a fucking shrink, as much as I hate 'em), before you do something stupid.

I AM seeing a therapist, and I have BEEN seeing therapists and on medication for years. They all seem to have very low standards of "acceptable outcomes".

Or else get the fuck out of my way.

It seems like that would be the appropriate way to "celebrate" my upcoming 40th birthday.

Zeropoint wrote:I AM seeing a therapist, and I have BEEN seeing therapists and on medication for years. They all seem to have very low standards of "acceptable outcomes".

What do you consider acceptable?

Zeropoint wrote:

Or else get the fuck out of my way.

It seems like that would be the appropriate way to "celebrate" my upcoming 40th birthday.

Don't you dare try to put that on me, if you cop out and do it. I am trying to encourage you to live the life of a sexually-successful male human, fucker-wannabe. Don't stop. Never stop. Always forward, like a shark. Always. You only stop when you die, and then after that, you will never get anything again.

Zeropoint wrote:I AM seeing a therapist, and I have BEEN seeing therapists and on medication for years. They all seem to have very low standards of "acceptable outcomes".

Or else get the fuck out of my way.

It seems like that would be the appropriate way to "celebrate" my upcoming 40th birthday.

It's really fucking depressing and aggravating to read this the day after the 26th anniversary of my sister's suicide. Especially since despite her psychological problems my sister did a lot of good for the world.

Make yourself a bucket list. No, I'm serious. What do you want to do and/or experience in life before you die? Anywhere you want to go or see? Anything you want to do? Doesn't have to be over the top, could be something simple like "I want to see X museum", "I want to win two games of solitaire in a row", "I want to ride a horse" - whatever. Don't be in a hurry to die.

Hell, you think you're an extra in the drama of life? "I want to be a movie extra" - there's a goal for you, actually get credit as Technician #3!

And yeah, it's OK to have improbable stuff on the list - hell I never thought I'd ever get to ride in a vintage biplane, much less get to pilot one, but I did. And I still have "go into space" on my list. But I also have more modest goals I'm interested in, like "file my taxes on time next year".

Go out. Do stuff. The happiness my dead sister had in life - and she had some, despite her illness - were do to her simply getting out of the house and doing stuff.

I must point out that there is no actual, physical, objective thing stopping you from accomplishing basic routine goals, Zeropoint. You're not stupid, you're not an invalid.

This leads logically to the conclusion that whatever barriers you are experiencing are mental rather than physical, which in turn suggests that, as I said and as others said before me... "depression lies."

If you were reading a novel, and there was an outside voice telling one of the characters they were inadequate, sad, screwed, and doomed, and otherwise unworthy and unable to accomplish anything, you would probably think "this character should not listen to that voice."

This is one of those rare times where the correct reaction in real life is exactly like the correct reaction in the book. Don't listen to that voice. It's actively wrong and miscalibrated and will literally never give you good advice, ever. Even doing the exact opposite of what it says would be better.

Broomstick wrote:

Zeropoint wrote:I AM seeing a therapist, and I have BEEN seeing therapists and on medication for years. They all seem to have very low standards of "acceptable outcomes".

Or else get the fuck out of my way.

It seems like that would be the appropriate way to "celebrate" my upcoming 40th birthday.

It's really fucking depressing and aggravating to read this the day after the 26th anniversary of my sister's suicide. Especially since despite her psychological problems my sister did a lot of good for the world.

Make yourself a bucket list. No, I'm serious. What do you want to do and/or experience in life before you die? Anywhere you want to go or see? Anything you want to do? Doesn't have to be over the top, could be something simple like "I want to see X museum", "I want to win two games of solitaire in a row", "I want to ride a horse" - whatever. Don't be in a hurry to die.

Hell, you think you're an extra in the drama of life? "I want to be a movie extra" - there's a goal for you, actually get credit as Technician #3!

And yeah, it's OK to have improbable stuff on the list - hell I never thought I'd ever get to ride in a vintage biplane, much less get to pilot one, but I did. And I still have "go into space" on my list. But I also have more modest goals I'm interested in, like "file my taxes on time next year".

Go out. Do stuff. The happiness my dead sister had in life - and she had some, despite her illness - were do to her simply getting out of the house and doing stuff.

One of the goals I have is to see my niece's 18th birthday (FYI:she's 6 years old atm), it easily helps me deal with my depression issues since it's a goal that I cannot fufill or fail anytime soon, in fact I'll fulfill by just living and the neat thing about goals like this I can always rework it to be another goal that is in future.

Others have said this before but it cannot be overstated that little voice at back of your head lies and never to your benefit don't listen to it.

Funny situations created by the appalling 'English' my collegues speak:

Female Coworker: "I need it. I really need it. Where is Kathi? Will she be coming in the office today?"
Low whisper from my desk: "Depends on how much you need it, I presume..."


After lunch (Baguette au coq was on the menu)

Male coworker: "I really enjoyed that cock sandwich!"
Me: "You may want to rephrase that..."

Any particular reason why your coworkers would be speaking English while at work instead of German? Or are they just practicing and made several amusing slip-ups in the process?

Let people talk about how much they enjoy coq sandwich. Correcting them just embarrasses them and removes some small amount of humour and joy from the world.

Borgholio wrote:Any particular reason why your coworkers would be speaking English while at work instead of German? Or are they just practicing and made several amusing slip-ups in the process?

I can't speak for LaCroix, but at the last office job I had, English was the only language that the Denver, Manila, Chennai, and Mumbai office administrators had in common, so we pretty much had to use it during teleconferences. The Filipinos, who I was the primary department contact for, spoke it much better than the Indians, who would occasionally ask their contact, my friend Hari, to translate between them. Hari was born and raised in Orange County, California, and that's the only accent he knows, besides his grandmother, who had a different native language than either of the India managers. One time he made eye contact with me across the conference table and mimed blowing his brains out when he had no fucking idea what either of them just said and they asked him to explain.

Ghetto Edit: One time, the two Indian managers, who had different native Indian languages from each other and from Hari's grandma, started going in yet a fourth Indian language, which they were apparently both fluent in. Hari switched off his mic and blurted out, "Are they conspiring against us?" at almost the exact same time that my Manila contact, Lucy*, PMd me the exact same thing word for word. Fun Fact: India has 17 official languages.

* Who is an absolute doll, by the way - I got to meet her at a conference, and I was totally smitten. Great body, amazing smile, sunny personality. Best part, we were peers in different branches, so there wasn't even a rule against having crazy wild animal sex. Unfortunately she's also waaaaay too Catholic to have sex with me in that timeframe. Best I got out of her was a few laughs and a couple of cocktails, and not in the naughty sense of the latter term.

Borgholio wrote:Any particular reason why your coworkers would be speaking English while at work instead of German? Or are they just practicing and made several amusing slip-ups in the process?

Any kind of multi-lingual environment will converge on a lingua franca if it can. In my undergrad years we had Germans, Austrians, Norwegians, and Argentinians (who for some entirely unaccountable reason spoke german natively in addition to spanish ) and an Israeli, in addition to Americans (largest single plurality with Germans a close second, with Americans being a minority overall), all working on the same floor on shared projects. When we took our turn hosting the Nasonia genome annotation symposia, that count increased to include Dutch and French.

English was the common denominator, so we used it.

Alyrium Denryle wrote:Argentinians (who for some entirely unaccountable reason spoke german natively in addition to spanish )

Volksdeutsche make up the fourth-largest ethnic group in Argentina, providing Argentine society with many of its professionals and technicians. Germans have immigrated from Europe to there since before the original German unification in 1871.

We are an IT office with worldwide customers and a team of about 20 different nationalities and offices in 13 countries. English is the only way we can deal with this mess. And situations like these ones are why everyone starting here gets weekly classes on company time...

My boss. We all need to do things that take us out of our comfort zone, and by this point that means base jumping or letting madd0ct0r give a presentation to [a notoriusly picky and hidebound massive client]

"So, my check said I need a 60% deposit. If go for something more expensive, that means I'll be paying less?"
"...no ma'am. It'll still be 60%"
"Sure, sure, but if instead I went for a more expensive choice, than that 60% would be lower?"
"Sorry, no, it would be 60% of the larger amount. It would be a larger amount of money."

Cue this discussion for another 3 verses or so.

DENVER COMICON & PRIDE WEEKEND: THE 2016 EDITION:

SUPERMAN / PRIDE FEST COSTUME: I'll just be in there for a second, I need to grab some smokes.

YOUR DRIVER: Sure thing, bud. [pause] So, is it safe to presume that you guys aren't a couple?

SUPERGIRL COSTUME: What tipped you off, his rainbow cape?

YOUR DRIVER: Little bit. So, you seem like you're pretty cool. Can I give you my number?

SUPERGIRL COSTUME: We're driving back to the Springs tomorrow...

YOUR DRIVER: Aww, that's too bad. I thought I was feeling a little bit of a vibe here.

SUPERGIRL COSTUME: ...but we have separate hotel rooms...

YOUR DRIVER: Excellent.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

YOUR DRIVER: Cat ears again this year, eh?

MY FAVORITE STRIPPER: Dude, I am never retiring the cat ears. These bitches are money in the bank. I call them my Geek Beacon. Every fanboy in the room who isn't already into redheads sees them and it's like the other girls are invisible.

YOUR DRIVER: Yeah, I guess I could see that. So you had a great night, I take it?

MY FAVORITE STRIPPER: Check this out: I complimented one dorkface on his browncoat costume and told him I'm a fan, and he took me for a poser, so I bet him double or nothing on the cost of his lapdance that I could sing The Ballad of Jayne Cobb off the top of my head.

YOUR DRIVER: Oh shit. So you made a hundred bucks off that guy in about ten minutes.

MY FAVORITE STRIPPER: Damn straight I did. Pretentious bitch had it coming. Better yet, his entire table of friends fell in love with me and wanted dances, too.

YOUR DRIVER: So I hear what you're saying between the lines, here. You're saying, "Hey Raw Shark, want to get breakfast? I'm buying..."

MY FAVORITE STRIPPER: Roger that.

Raw Shark wrote:MY FAVORITE STRIPPER: ...isn't already into redheads


...so I bet him double or nothing on the cost of his lapdance that I could sing The Ballad of Jayne Cobb off the top of my head.
...

I think she's now My Favourite Stripper as well...

The_Saint wrote:

Raw Shark wrote:MY FAVORITE STRIPPER: ...isn't already into redheads


...so I bet him double or nothing on the cost of his lapdance that I could sing The Ballad of Jayne Cobb off the top of my head.
...

I think she's now My Favourite Stripper as well...

http://rs262.pbsrc.com/albums/ii104/sto ... 8.jpg~c200

Raw Shark wrote:MY FAVORITE STRIPPER:...so I bet him double or nothing on the cost of his lapdance that I could sing The Ballad of Jayne Cobb off the top of my head.
...

Poor guy, never saw the sucker bet coming. Only a Browncoat would know that song, much less think to make the bet.

LadyTevar wrote:Poor guy, never saw the sucker bet coming. Only a Browncoat would know that song, much less think to make the bet.

Dude probably had a few drinks in him and didn't want to back down to a pretty girl in front of his buddies, who probably egged him on to shoot for the free dance. He most likely thought that she'd watched the show once (rather than twice through with me and who knows how many times by herself or with others) and was bluffing, and got what he deserved for judging her by her looks. No pity extended from this direction.

Oh, there's something extending from this way with both direction and magnitude... call me Vector!

Well, I just have to say, that there's over seventy Earths spinning about this Galaxy, and the meek have inherited not a one.