@mietze Remind me to send you the recipe my mother uses for it. IIRC it's fairly simple, mostly just cauliflower, a few bread crumbs, and a small amount of butter, but however she does it, it comes out tastyface in ways even my cauliflower-hating husband loves. (He cringes as I just chow down on it raw.) She's made it since I was a kid and it was one of the few veggies even this fussychild never minded (and instead loved) eating.
...didn't this conversation move over to politics or somesuch? ...a week ago?
@Arkandel Posting just 'cause, uh, that did show a 'X died' in the unread posts preview. 
Our spoiler tags are imperfect.
@Coin Oh, huh. For some reason I thought it was 8. Never mind!
In fairness, there are five (lonnnng) episodes to go. We still may get the payoff under discussion. 
(Kept as vague as possible.)
This thread: the art of vaguebooking.
I'm squinting in anticipation of another shoe dropping, for the reasons mentioned above.
<rubs face a little> A number of posters here are geniuses or near, technically speaking, and it's never stopped anyone here from being a spectacular idiot, too, so, uh, there's that.
@Pandora I think it's kinda staying here behind the spoiler tags due to the post previews in the new posts/etc. pages that show the first line or two of post text. I mean, to be fair... I wouldn't want to stumble over a spoiler like that if I was one of the people who is testy about them.
@Ganymede ...I meant reading it as a 'bacon of virtue' was oddly apt, considering the person in question, and thus funny to me. Not... anything else. I have no idea what's even happening right now.
I initially skimmed and read this as:
I will kink-shame the fuck out of some prick who feels so entitled and in-tune with the oppressed white man that he thinks he's a shining BACON of virtue in an immoral world.
...it made me much happier, somehow. I share it in hopes it will help do the same for you.
@Arkandel I don't usually use yahoo, but it looks like it's the 'tvline' news feed that's doing this. They have something where you can customize your feed with the little dots to, ideally, expunge them from your list. A glance at one of their articles says they specialize in spoilers. Stupid call, yahoo.
@Ganymede This was specifically hearing, since speech wasn't the issue, but... yeah, often lots of overlap. Thankfully, from what I gather, they stopped using the techniques they used then. ('Advanced Interrogators' picked them up, though, not a joke. )
@Ganymede People still read comments outside of forum spaces period? I have regretted it every time I dared bother, literally everywhere.
...there's a reason we went to an 8:30am show this morning, for real.
I am so tired I think I might die.
...the early 'therapy' was pretty much awful. This is that 'back when' section that, uh, Gany, please skip this?
I saw an audiologist for years, starting in first grade. This was a day a week (or every two weeks) when I'd go into a tiny soundproof room for an hour, with giant heavy-ass headphones plunked on my wee noggin, and they'd play special recordings made of multiple conversations all layered over one another. I would either have to write down something dictated to me over a loudspeaker sent into the room, if the audiologist was in the booth section, or answer questions on a timer to her when she was in the room to ask them. I have a fucked up combination of 'very sensitive hearing' and 'an inability to filter background noise', so they thought. Well, I do have pretty damned sensitive hearing, but the 'inability to filter background noise' is one of those things that's related to ADD. Whee, right? All of this was to 'train my brain' to filter the background noise, and that was not going to happen. Did anybody explain this to me as a kid? Nope. All I knew as a kid was that I was going into a little white padded room, having noise blared into my ears, while a stranger asked me to take notes and answer questions on a timer. Want to confuse the shit out of a kid? Try this. (No, really, don't. Ever.) Still hate crowds. Hate them. Too much of it and it's right back to the white closet with the vinyl-padded headphones from hell in my head. No thanks!
Since hyperactivity wasn't a factor for me, and the 'can ADD exist without hyperactivity?' was a ping-pong match at the time, and my hearing was trippy (vision, too), they tried 'hypersensitivity'. I am super sensitive to light/color and loud noises, so they weren't completely wrong there, but it wasn't the issue. Treatment for hypersensitivity is varied, and in addition to the above, there was a lot of physical stuff, most of which involved sitting on a mat (looking just as confused) as a therapist poked me with everything from feathers to those little needle-wheel things. (Pattern drafting class was surreal to a fault, y'all.) Again, no explanation, beyond, "We don't want you to flinch when your parents hug you!" Well, again, maybe just don't touch people who don't want to be touched? How is this not a complete answer?
I think I was dangled off of, spun on, swung on, swung from, bent, spindled, and confused on every weird object in that gym-like room. I won't pretend that some of it wasn't kinda fun, because they had neat weird swing things and I liked swinging and spinning as a kid. (To this day, if I'm stressed, I will still spin the chair back and forth some.)
About once a month, there were puzzles of all sorts, and testing that I'd have to ask about to even guess at its purpose.
There's a fairly fucked up situation this all creates, in combination with what's mentioned previously: this isn't helping, it's scary, and there's no one who will help. They probably won't even listen. This is a fucked up thing to come to understand by the end of first grade, especially when you see the same pattern repeat itself endlessly. The end result is this: there was no place, and no person, that was 'safe'. No one, and nowhere. Help was not coming, even if there were people there who earnestly believed they were helping and trying to help. (Then, you're just ungrateful, too.)
There's a reason I say listening is so important. Really listening. 'Ignore everything the kid says and plow along no matter what while keeping the kid completely in the dark' doesn't work, no matter how smart you are, or how smart the people making suggestions are.
A person is not the right place for the 'throw everything at the wall and see what sticks' approach. You can demolish a wall and start over if you have to. It doesn't work that way with people.
Only child. Neighborhood where I grew up was mostly retirees at the time, with a whopping two other kids in the whole development for most of my childhood, until we got a third. (Woo!) You want the recipe for 'introvert able to amuse the shit out of themselves in creative ways', well, that's pretty much it in a nutshell.
In some ways, I'm grateful for my differently-functioning brain. It took me a very long time to appreciate the simple fact that I would have doubtless been the most bored and miserable, sickly child, otherwise. If I didn't amuse myself, well, nobody else was going to do it. In some ways, I was lucky to a fault. My family is full of creative nutters. As infuriating as they all are sometimes, it was at least something they understood in theory, and when I talk about 'I will always be an artist in some form or another even if it means starving in the street' it's something I count as a tick in life's win column simply because it is one thing I can do, and that would not be the case if there had been no support or understanding there. (There's a downside to this one, though, too. Because of course there is, right?)
Elementary school was hell, but I don't completely blame the ADD. The school where I landed first was... calling it a backwater would be a compliment. My parents were raised in 'good' Catholic schools; this wasn't one of them but they didn't grasp that at first. I was tiny for my age, and we'll just say I was lucky I was a girl, because I guess tiny was 'allowed'. A friend of mine since those days, also small, but male? They threatened to keep him in first grade purely because "He's too short for second grade." This is the level of 'whatever y'all are smoking, you're bastards for not sharing it with everyone else.'
Being small meant being physically pounded on regularly while the nuns blithely looked on without budging; if you came to them bloody and in torn clothes from being dragged across the parking lot by an ankle, though, by gods you were the problem, not the kids doing the dragging. This was a separate issue, but one extreme enough I still have spinal damage from it to this day, and the ADD compounded it.
Being 'untidy' or 'disorganized' or 'forgetful' was simply bad. Willfully, intentionally bad, and could be nothing else. Once you were 'the bad kid', forget any hope of help. Forget the chance that anything going wrong is not completely and wholly your fault. That kid who turns around and smacks you so hard in the head you spit out a baby tooth while you're reading? Well, you shouldn't be such a bad kid, and these things wouldn't happen to you!
I remember 'the nice teacher' simply dumping my desk over onto the floor and telling me to organize the mess all through second grade. I remember other students stealing supplies that still had my name written on them in sharpie, and being told I was the bad one for not having them/'being unprepared'; any other possibility was unthinkable to everyone with any authority to do anything whatsoever to help. It spiraled, badly. Kids are not stupid. When even the authority figure indicates in some fashion it's acceptable to treat someone badly, they know it's just fine for them to do it, too, and there won't be consequences for it.
Then, because it was the way things were done there and then, when it was time for report cards, it would get worse. They had the 'socialization section', and by gods, do I hope that's gone the way of the dodo, and I was so grateful when, years later, public school had no such fucking thing. I was sick of 'doesn't live up to potential' by the time I was six. Every single box there was to check was marked 'Unsatisfactory' save for hygiene. To this day, the word 'Unsatisfactory' makes me want to spit and punch whoever's mouth it comes out of reflexively.
No, I actually don't want to 'make friends' when that very clearly means 'let people hit me or jump up and down on my back while I'm face down on asphalt'. Who the hell would? When a five year old knows this isn't the kind of 'friend' you want to have... If only the Evil Overlord List existed back then, is what I guess I'm saying here.
This is already long and this is... up to fourth grade. Everything from there gets so much worse for the next two year period I need to stop writing a while and just breathe and tinker with graphics for a little bit before even trying to tackle it.
@Auspice It's a crime no one was there to snap a picture of the face of whoever he submitted that name change form to, and all the subsequent people who had to process it.
That would have been prime reaction gif territory, you know?
@Rucket I beg of you, keep the name. That name (and dude) needs to hang out with one of the surgical residents from when I was in the hospital for 'STOP BEING A WOD CHARACTER IN REAL LIFE MAN!'-ness.
(Seriously, a buff, hot, tribal-tatted, geek-literate mid-late 20s surgical resident/budding doctor genius who was charming as hell with an equally WoD name I won't repeat here since it's a real person and the poor soul would get so googled. Kinfolk doctor stereotype, GO!)
@Wretched said in The ADD/ADHD Thread (cont'd from Peeves):
Imma write a bigger post later, but I just wanted to say I'm all choked up. I see so many echos of my own life and struggles here among all of you and it's just... a little overwhelming okay?
Am kinda here, too. Been keeping most of it quiet since I already have a bad habit of oversharing but, uh. Yeah. This actually would be a proper place for it, so when I find where I left the rest of my spine... yeah.
Also extra hugs to Gany 'cause reminder of 'swear it's not like this now' still makes me wary because I don't wanna cause needless worry.
...not enough hugs for everyone in this thread. Nowhere near.