I learned a lot from my mistakes at HM. I learned to watch how I behave when I don't get my way. I learned being quiet when I'm pissed is nowhere near as constructive as being loud, even when it makes me feel like a wanker.
But I also learned to keep my eyes peeled for how other people behave when they don't get their way. And Changeling @ HM was ruled by a fistful of the most two-faced, venomous fuckfaces I've ever seen. I think the only prominent Changeling player from there that I can remember who I still like is Zepherine -- which I spelled wrong.
I'm sure there are others, there always are. But it's been so long that picking out the individual specks of goodness from the congealed pixie-dust glittery bowel obstruction is impossible for me.
To quote Dorothy Parker, my memory of Changeling is not merely that it was awful, it was fancy awful. It was awful with raisins in it.