Not ragging, Biff, just asking her what her basis is for believing that it’ll all get worse. Kens was right, it was “What sounding,” something that she was railing about yesterday with his “caricature” comment.
Man Rob, I feel for you. Friends on drugs is a tough one. You can’t stop them, you can’t save them. You just have to look out for yourself in this situation, make sure you feel OK about where you are at and maybe you will be an inspiration to one of them to get better. In re this fall I don’t think its going to be a disaster the way your gut and your sh-tlister are telling you.
Tough crowd. Why is everyone ragging on Alitheia? I thought she was trying to send us a positive message, in the same way that many of us here have said before. That is, no matter how bad things may get, we will still try to appreciate what we have, our friends and family, and not stop trying to enjoy life.
Rob, Two thoughts. I can understand your thinking this.
Even therapists have therapists! We can’t always see ourselves objectively. The other thing is that they might help you figure out if an anti-depressant might help?
Therapists can also help you with practical advice on how to manage feelings or resolve situations, it’s not all about ‘getting to know yourself’ or navel-gazing!
File under “the more things change…” category – this is from the New York Herald on October 6, 1863:
The world has seen its iron age, its silver age, its golden age and its brazen age. This is the age of shoddy.
The new brownstone palaces on Fifth Avenue, the new equipages at the Park, the new diamonds which dazzle unaccustomed eyes, the new silks and satins which rustle over loudly, as if to demand attention, the new people who live in the palaces and ride in the carriages and wear the diamonds and silks—all are shoddy. They live in shoddy houses. They ride in shoddy carriages, drawn by shoddy horses, and driven by shoddy coachmen who wear shoddy liveries. They lie upon shoddy beds which have just come from the upholsterers and still smell of shoddy varnish. They wear shoddy clothes purchased from shoddy merchants who have erected mammoth stores, which appear to be marble, but are really shoddy… Their professions and occupations are pure shoddy. They are shoddy brokers in Wall Street or shoddy manufacturers of shoddy goods, or shoddy contractors for shoddy articles for a shoddy government. Six days in the week they are shoddy business men. On the seventh they are shoddy Christians…
all is fine. all is fine. all is fine.
I second cobblehiller’s therapist recommendation.
Not ragging, Biff, just asking her what her basis is for believing that it’ll all get worse. Kens was right, it was “What sounding,” something that she was railing about yesterday with his “caricature” comment.
Message for today is don’t f*ck with Kens!
Six, For a second there, I thought I was reading one of WHAT’s tamed rants from October 6, 2008.
Man Rob, I feel for you. Friends on drugs is a tough one. You can’t stop them, you can’t save them. You just have to look out for yourself in this situation, make sure you feel OK about where you are at and maybe you will be an inspiration to one of them to get better. In re this fall I don’t think its going to be a disaster the way your gut and your sh-tlister are telling you.
Tough crowd. Why is everyone ragging on Alitheia? I thought she was trying to send us a positive message, in the same way that many of us here have said before. That is, no matter how bad things may get, we will still try to appreciate what we have, our friends and family, and not stop trying to enjoy life.
Rob, Two thoughts. I can understand your thinking this.
Even therapists have therapists! We can’t always see ourselves objectively. The other thing is that they might help you figure out if an anti-depressant might help?
Therapists can also help you with practical advice on how to manage feelings or resolve situations, it’s not all about ‘getting to know yourself’ or navel-gazing!
File under “the more things change…” category – this is from the New York Herald on October 6, 1863:
The world has seen its iron age, its silver age, its golden age and its brazen age. This is the age of shoddy.
The new brownstone palaces on Fifth Avenue, the new equipages at the Park, the new diamonds which dazzle unaccustomed eyes, the new silks and satins which rustle over loudly, as if to demand attention, the new people who live in the palaces and ride in the carriages and wear the diamonds and silks—all are shoddy. They live in shoddy houses. They ride in shoddy carriages, drawn by shoddy horses, and driven by shoddy coachmen who wear shoddy liveries. They lie upon shoddy beds which have just come from the upholsterers and still smell of shoddy varnish. They wear shoddy clothes purchased from shoddy merchants who have erected mammoth stores, which appear to be marble, but are really shoddy… Their professions and occupations are pure shoddy. They are shoddy brokers in Wall Street or shoddy manufacturers of shoddy goods, or shoddy contractors for shoddy articles for a shoddy government. Six days in the week they are shoddy business men. On the seventh they are shoddy Christians…