Threw that together last night when I was feeling angsty and needed an outlet.
I am happy with how it turned out.
What is the deal with this guy?
I thought it was a pretty good little documentary on the man, so I am sharing it.
Hate the thumbnail, though.
I think he became so good precisely because he was a dull, flavorless kind of guy without a strong personality or charisma, so he just studied absolutely everything about stand-up comedy and grabbed all the stage time he could in order to practice, and internalized it all, and what do you know, it worked.
I don’t often like him but I will always respect him. He became a near-billionaire by being genuinely funny. That, my friends, is success.
Tempest on a Thursday
Today was Therapy Thursday, and the session was rocky but fruitful.
You see, for whatever reason, when therapy time came around, I was feeling tense and frustrated and irritable.
Ergo, Doc Costin got a lot more emotional honesty out of me than usual because I vented to him about how pissed off he was making me.
See, I was trying to talk to him about feeling cranky and irritable et al, and he kept harping on about how that was because I had been physically ill recently, and that made me feel like he wasn’t really listening to me or taking me seriously.
I got loads of issues with both of those.
Looking back, I can see that it was a classic case of cross-communication, where I didn’t think he was hearing me and he didn’t think I was hearing him and so we both ended up repeating ourselves in an increasingly heated way.
Then there was a pause before I spoke those fateful words, “I probably shouldn’t be saying this, but…. ”
Those words have heralded much change in my life. Some good, some bad, but usually precipitous to say the least.
Then I launched into a rant about how I felt like he was more worried about protecting himself from my emotions than my wellbeing, and I told him about how much I hold back from him in therapy because I feel like if I don’t tone it all down and keep things neutral-ish, he will leave me.
I had no idea I felt that way until I said it.
He assured me – and he had to do so repeatedly – that no matter how “difficult” I became, he was not going to abandon me.
And I will eventually believe him. Right now, this revelation is facing fierce opposition from the entire existing structure of my brain and everything I thought I knew, but it is unquestionably true, so it will win in the end.
And it occurs to me that I have spent a lot of my life protecting the world from my big bad self at the slight cost of crippling depression due to total emotional repression.
I know that my natural weapons are quite deadly and I have an enormous amount of raw power at my disposal, but I am thinking I have taken the need for restraint too far.
A big part of my recovery will be un-suppressing myself, and that scares me, but it is something I have to do in order to bring myself back to life.
And if things go boom, so be it.
I will apologize to the pieces as I pick them up.
More after the break.
Thunderbolts and hellfire
I am in such a shitty mood right now.
In fact, I am so pissed off and cranky, I can’t eat.
I mean, I could force some food into myself, but I know that when I am this upset, that would amount to playing Russian Roulette with my IBS.
No thank you.
All right, so, take what a shitty mood I was in when I talked to my therapist and multiply it by some poor quality napping and this :
I decided, on a whim, to spend the last few bucks on my credit card on a game called Final Fantasy XIV Online.
Gamer consensus seems to be that it is, by far, the best MMORPG in town, and I’ve been meaning to give it another try for a long time, so WTF.
I tried it once, a long time ago, when it was relatively new, and while it seemed fine, I was deep into Witcher 3 at the time and therefore in full grimdark mode and was not in the mood for FFXIV’s cutesy, cartoony aesthetic.
I notice as I buy the thing that it says “not eligible for refunds”, which disgruntled me a little, but with a game like this, you just know people would buy a copy, play for a while,. then return it for refund over and over again.
So I get where they are coming from.
I buy the damned thing anyhow, and go to install it, and it wants my Square Enix ID and password. Grumble grumble. Pain in the ass.
I look at my notes and the ID is there, so I put that in along with my usual password.
No dice. Me no log in.
So I go through the whole “forgot my password” deal, reset my password to something I will hopefully remember, and try again.
Still no dice. And I know the password is now correct, so the ID must be wrong.
There is no way to get my ID from them.
They say that it will be in the password reset email, but it ain’t. Now I am out $24.99 for a game I can’t fucking play.
I put in a support ticket politely pointing out the flaw in their system. God knows when they will get around to answering that. Not any time soon, I will wager.
What’s more, that was the money I was going to use to get McD’s tonight.
This is why I never do things on a whim, people. It never goes well. It always blows up in my face in some terrible, humiliating fashion.
Now to see if venting has calmed me down enough for food.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.