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and please stop putting your moaniness in spoilers, for pity's sake. i agree with the Professor for once; we've all been too upbeat and cheerful lately. you know what happens when you've got too much repressed angstiness, don't you? no? well, trust me. you don't want to find out. been there, done that, as they do say. so let us make today the official Transyada Celebration of Angst. complain, moan, rage, spew bile in all directions. every once in awhile someone can post something funny, or grace us with Aloysius. but let us appall ourselves with our own ridiculous misery today.

Yeah yeah yeah, repression scmepression. I know all about repression, and angsting under a spoiler isn't it. Not allowing yourself to angst at all is more like it. But okay, no spoilers from now on.

*sigh*

i apologize if i wasn't clear, krossero--muttermutter--i was in no way implying that putting angst under spoilers was the repression i'm talking about. i simply meant--as i said--that the Professor was to my utter astonishment correct that we've been too upbeat and cheerful lately, and that i wanted to encourage us all to be a bit crankier than is traditionally our wont. it will be good for us all.

so bitch away, krossero, and never look back. the rest of the world may raise an eyebrow at you when you do so, but always remember that this is not the rest of the world. this is the Transyadaverse. we do things differently here.

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My favourite song when I was nine.

I got the CD Chronicles of Life and Death (Death version, apparently.) for my ninth birthday and blasted it 24/7. I don't regret it.

Omg nostalgia attack.

I remember playing this video over and over when I was younger.

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Herr Joseph von Löthing

I remember playing this video over and over when I was younger.

When I was your age, people had never heard of youtube...

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and please stop putting your moaniness in spoilers, for pity's sake. i agree with the Professor for once; we've all been too upbeat and cheerful lately. you know what happens when you've got too much repressed angstiness, don't you? no? well, trust me. you don't want to find out. been there, done that, as they do say. so let us make today the official Transyada Celebration of Angst. complain, moan, rage, spew bile in all directions. every once in awhile someone can post something funny, or grace us with Aloysius. but let us appall ourselves with our own ridiculous misery today.

Yeah yeah yeah, repression scmepression. I know all about repression, and angsting under a spoiler isn't it. Not allowing yourself to angst at all is more like it. But okay, no spoilers from now on.

*sigh*

i apologize if i wasn't clear, krossero--muttermutter--i was in no way implying that putting angst under spoilers was the repression i'm talking about. i simply meant--as i said--that the Professor was to my utter astonishment correct that we've been too upbeat and cheerful lately, and that i wanted to encourage us all to be a bit crankier than is traditionally our wont. it will be good for us all.

so bitch away, krossero, and never look back. the rest of the world may raise an eyebrow at you when you do so, but always remember that this is not the rest of the world. this is the Transyadaverse. we do things differently here.

Yeah, I understood what you meant, and my response wasn't meant to sound so bitter. But mention repression and zing! my brainparts turn off, and my Bitchparts turn on. Therefore, I bitched a bit about that--sort of like textual diarrhea.

And then I bitched a lot more. Oops.

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I remember playing this video over and over when I was younger.

When I was your age, people had never heard of youtube...

Dude, stop making it sound like you're P's age (which is, like, ancient). You're four years older than me.

But also, I played it on the music video thing on our TV. Don't know what it's called.

ALSO. I propose Angst Day be a yada holiday and happen every September 15th.

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Herr Joseph von Löthing

I remember playing this video over and over when I was younger.

When I was your age, people had never heard of youtube...

Dude, stop making it sound like you're P's age (which is, like, ancient). You're four years older than me.

But also, I played it on the music video thing on our TV. Don't know what it's called.

ALSO. I propose Angst Day be a yada holiday and happen every September 15th.

When you're a teenager, 4 years is a long time. I started school the year you were born.

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But mention repression and zing! my brainparts turn off, and my Bitchparts turn on.

i'm not talking about repression in a psychoanalytical sense; all i meant is that if one doesn't express a negative emotion when it's appropriate to do so, one will end up expressing it when it's inappropriate to do so. for example, not everyone grieves in the same way, and not everyone cries. however, if someone who deals with things by crying loses a beloved family member but for whatever reason remains stoic at the funeral and all during the grieving period--perhaps in order to "stay strong" for the family--that need to grieve by crying is still there, and it's going to manifest itself inappropriately at some point, months or perhaps years later, and when it does, it's going to be all out of proportion to whatever sets it off.

i apologize for inadvertently using a word that's a trigger for you, though, krossero. i know how i am when people do that to me. it isn't pretty.

I propose Angst Day be a yada holiday and happen every September 15th.

er... i was going to say, let's make it every Wednesday...

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I remember playing this video over and over when I was younger.

When I was your age, people had never heard of youtube...

Dude, stop making it sound like you're P's age (which is, like, ancient). You're four years older than me.

But also, I played it on the music video thing on our TV. Don't know what it's called.

ALSO. I propose Angst Day be a yada holiday and happen every September 15th.

When you're a teenager, 4 years is a long time. I started school the year you were born.

Ollz, if I ever finished writing my angst post it's going to involve things that happened to me at school and started happening before you were born.

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But mention repression and zing! my brainparts turn off, and my Bitchparts turn on.

i apologize for inadvertently using a word that's a trigger for you, though, krossero. i know how i am when people do that to me. it isn't pretty.

No apologies necessary. See, I didn't even really know it was a thing with me--usually repression is mentioned in real life, and in real life, I repress. Therefore, every time I would have reacted to a discussion about repression, I, er, repress my reaction. Heh.

Thank god for the internet.

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Herr Joseph von Löthing

Y'know, I can't wait to be able to say, "We didn't have hovercrafts when I was your age! We had to use cars." "WHAT?!"

...

hovercraft.jpg

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Professor Godric

A pretty flower in a dire hour is a useful as a sable cloak to a weatherworn rook

Ah, whirling cogs, clicking gears, rusted machines given love

beans from a can? They are a delicacy.

Agreed. I just ate a whole load of them. MMmmmm, I love the smell of canned beans. Of course, this is once the can has been opened. I cannot smell beans while they're in the can.

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Y'know, I can't wait to be able to say, "We didn't have hovercrafts when I was your age! We had to use cars." "WHAT?!"

...

hovercraft.jpg

I need appropraite gifs to sum up my feelings right now.

afbxa1.gif

2u4u528.gif

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Amputation Defenestration

Instead of addressing your issues in a mature and caring way, I'm going to skip right to my issues, as is the way of the Bitchfest.

So my problem is that I know that I'm boring and mediocre and average and inadequate, and all those hateful things. I always have been, and I've always to not be. I've always been either just barely or wholly not enough--not smart enough, not funny enough, etc., ad infinitum. I almost always feel extraordinarily inadequate to all you Yadas, and pretty much anyone I respect.

And the not-wanting-to-be-average thing? That's why I always doubt things like my sexuality and my gender identity--I feel like I'm just trying to be special, when everyone knows I'm not.

Not that those two things are the only things I doubt in myself. Only recently have I been able to acknowledge that I'm allowed to have emotions, and even express them, though I rarely do. I still can't cry (except maybe once a year, at most) and I really can't get angry. Frustrated is the closest I can get. And even now, when I'm more open to myself and about myself, I still have a constant internal argument raging about the validity of any emotions I happen to experience.

And the kicker? My self-image is better than it has ever been. That's why I can post pictures of myself on the internet, and why I can look into mirrors. Though when I do, I always wonder that that is me; I don't identify with my body as being me, and that may be in part because I almost literally went for years without looking into a mirror once. I still rarely look myself in the eyes.

I have the ridiculously strong urge to put this under a spoiler, or not to post it at all. It's a part of that whole being-ashamed-of-my-emotions thing. I may or may not post this; I think I'll leave it for a while, though by then people will probably be past the Bitchfest, and my post will be entirely out of place and unwelcome.

You asked for it.

Well, I can assure you that you are not alone.

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tumblr_l8pvtxf7hp1qcpj7wo1_500.jpg

hahaha, if that wasn't all correctly spelt i would believe it was made by a friend of mine. Hmmm maybe they had help.

In other news, i feel terrible. I can't think of one thing to moan about... hang on my internet just started being an arse, how awful. Oh, there's some work stuff that was getting me down last night, but not particularly relevant to the interests of the yadas, so here's one of my favourite sad songs. Rejoice in Morrissey, wait don't rejoice, do the other thing..suffer.

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Angst, then. All right. It's probably the gigantic amount of blame I impose on myself coupled with what I probably ought to call shyness but just think of as being very, very reserved. I'm sure it has to do with completely failing to integrate socially while I was at school (sometimes because I couldn't afford to hang around with other people outside school but more usually because I just didn't want to) and missing out on learning a lot of things about how people interact with each other.

(When I started studying anthropology seven or eight years ago I realised I was beginning to re-learn some of this stuff, but it's no substitute for having actually been a well-adjusted human being from the outset.)

Also, there's the fallout from the disastrous crush I had on one of the girls in my class (a surprising number of whom were called Charlotte and not all of whom were all that good, at least not to me), when I came close to being thrown out of school over it and internalised that every single thing I'd done during that year and a half, including expressing attraction to someone else full stop was Wrong. I twisted that into such a level of self-denial that it culminated six or seven years later in me telling someone who was the closest I ever came to a romantic partner that I don't want anything, not wanting anything is what I do. I've blamed myself so much for that that I even managed to repress the good memories I had of spending time with her until two girls on this year's Big Brother basically re-enacted it, what the hell is up with that?, but it unlocked an awful lot about that year that I'd completely forgotten. Is there a positive equivalent of a trigger warning? Because it should have come with that.

Talking of self-denial, I've held back really thinking through my gender issues until very recently because, well, a close relative is also trans, and has transitioned, and I don't want to look as if I've just got up and gone 'Me too!' when none of those issues are so serious that I need to have hormones or surgery for the sake of my mental health. (Actually, I held back investigating this thread for a while for the same reason. Most of y'all are dealing with things that are much more serious than mine.)

And there's the way that I go around with my back braced for any kind of rejection or attack or disaster because, sooner or later, it *will* happen, and a large part of me would rather be expecting it than have to be knocked out of a false state of happiness. (Two of my best friends in the world haven't spoken to each other for several years now, and part of their falling out included one of them sending me a letter about myself that left me devastated; I don't want to give any more details in case either of them ever reads this, and I don't understand the whole story anyway, but I rarely celebrate anything IRL any more because I'd either have to invite only one of them or drag the whole topic up again; even the day I passed my viva I basically went straight home.)

...but yeah, as krossero said, you asked for it.

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I generally have to, as if I do not, my obvious disinterest and growing ill humour are rather apparent and I end up being besieged by people attempting to cheer me up, which just makes me more depressed and also embarrassed. Oh I gave up trying to avoid doing something stupid long ago; it is just one of those inevitabilities that happen whenever I find myself in a social situation.

oh my lord yes. or doing that sort of pouty lip thing at me to indicate they feel sorry i feel sooooo saaaaaad. although my mom was even worse, in a different way. whenever there was a family gathering i had to attend when i was depressed (which was most of them--i suffered from severe, crippling depression for decades), she'd shoot me a look and say, "i don't care if you're not happy. pretend."

boy, did i ever take that lesson to heart.

Ah yes my parents are of the type whom insist on you to wear your happy mask during all human interaction or else deal with their ‘Awww don’t be sad.... no really unless you smile I will proceed to make you feel guilty for it and then blame you for ruining our happy masquerade, and you do not want to be that scorn deserving person let me tell you’ sentiment. Needless to say I got used to smiling a lot even when I felt like killing someone... though an unintended result of their ‘training’ is that I developed a morbid and twisted sense of humour in my teens that I would frequently horrify guests with all the while smiling pleasantly at them as if having a discussion on kittens.

Though the whole smiling thing became so ingrained that I still tend to come across as cheerful even when on the verge of a complete mental breakdown.

I am extremely hard to read. Generally people cannot tell when I am upset. On the other hand, they cannot tell when I am happy. Nowadays, most of the time when someone asks if something is wrong, I look at them very confused, because there isn't anything wrong. I have been told that I do not smile enough. <_<

I had a friend who would do that to me. It'd be "Nami, what's wrong?" (Only, you know, she didn't call me Nami...) "You look sad! Are you mad at me?" -sigh- And I never was mad at her before she asked, but her asking pissed me off. I don't feel the need to smile and laugh all the time and I don't see why my facial expressions should be anyone's business but my own. Of course, it's not like I answer the question, "How are you doing today?" with anything other than "fine," anyway, so I suppose people have no way of knowing how I feel. Then again, I like it that way. I have an extremely rocky relationship with my emotions, and I'd really rather not acknowledge them. Which is probably why I react so badly to people asking me if I'm all right. Even if I'm not, I certainly don't want anyone else to know, and I'd rather ignore that fact myself. -sigh-

Instead of addressing your issues in a mature and caring way, I'm going to skip right to my issues, as is the way of the Bitchfest.

So my problem is that I know that I'm boring and mediocre and average and inadequate, and all those hateful things. I always have been, and I've always wanted to not be. I've always been either just barely or wholly not enough--not smart enough, not funny enough, etc., ad infinitum. I almost always feel extraordinarily inadequate to all you Yadas, and pretty much anyone I respect.

And the not-wanting-to-be-average thing? That's why I always doubt things like my sexuality and my gender identity--I feel like I'm just trying to be special, when everyone knows I'm not.

Not that those two things are the only things I doubt in myself. Only recently have I been able to acknowledge that I'm allowed to have emotions, and even express them, though I rarely do. I still can't cry (except maybe once a year, at most) and I really can't get angry. Frustrated is the closest I can get. And even now, when I'm more open to myself and about myself, I still have a constant internal argument raging about the validity of any emotions I happen to experience.

And the kicker? My self-image is better than it has ever been. That's why I can post pictures of myself on the internet, and why I can look into mirrors. Though when I do, I always wonder that that is me; I don't identify with my body as being me, and that may be in part because I almost literally went for years without looking into a mirror once. I still rarely look myself in the eyes.

I have the ridiculously strong urge to put this under a spoiler, or not to post it at all. It's a part of that whole being-ashamed-of-my-emotions thing. I may or may not post this; I think I'll leave it for a while, though by then people will probably be past the Bitchfest, and my post will be entirely out of place and unwelcome.

You asked for it.

I'm the same way in terms of questioning whether I actually get to be here. While I'm fairly secure in my own sexuality, there's a niggling voice in the back of my head going, "Yes dear, but are you really? I don't think you can know yet. Give yourself time; you'll meet someone. I think you might just be identifying this way to be different. What kind of egotistical person are you, to think that you're different from the masses, hmm? Everyone thinks they're different from the masses, yet there are still masses. You're a part of them. Accept that you're not anything extraordinary why don't you? Denial's an ugly thing, you know..." And so on.

I already talked about emotional repression issues. I'm going to do it again. This is bitchfest and I'm still a teenager. Being self-absorbed is what I do.

So, emotions. I hate them. I wish I was without, especially strong ones. Except that I'm not, and I get emotions and I can't control them sometimes and I hate it. Doesn't really matter if they're negative or positive emotions except that the positive ones are easier to control. I exist in a state of constant melancholy, and while I do experience moments of delight, they tend to be short lived and relatively subtle. The most I allow myself is a brief grin of utter glee, usually accompanied by my hugging myself momentarily. And then the moment fades and I readjust back to the usual. That I can take. It tends to happen to me in private, and if it doesn't then I ignore the moment and it goes away. The ones I have issues with are the negative ones, especially sadness. Because Goddess almighty do I detest overwhelming sadness. I hate crying, even in private. It makes me feel like a failure who has no self control. Because dammit, they're part of me. I should be in control of me. I need to be in control of me. This is why I'm straight laced. Not because of any moral or legal compunctions. I don't consume mind altering substances because the idea of not being in total control of myself at all times is the most terrifying thing I can imagine. People drink to relax, to let their inhibitions slide away. That, to me, is an absolutely horrifying thing. I don't want to be more relaxed. If I need to relax, I will do the relaxing myself. The idea of something else doing the relaxing for me is frankly terrifying.

I've gotten off track. Where was I? Oh yes, crying. This is why I got off birth control. It was fucking with my hormones and my emotional control. I couldn't take it anymore, and always feeling I was a hair's breadth away from breaking down utterly was utterly and completely not okay. I can't live like that. Hence why I will never be pregnant: the pill mimics the effects of pregnancy. If I can't cope with three months of the artificial hormones, no way in flaming hells will I be able to cope with nine months of the actual thing plus postpartum symptoms. Not gonna happen.

If I ever went in to see someone (i.e. a mental health professional) they'd tell me that I was repressing. They'd be right. I write to get the worst of it out and I cope with the rest. I've done it for years. Yes, it may come back to bite me, but I'll deal with that when and if it comes to that. For the moment, I'll repress the stupid things to my heart's content and vanish every so often to recharge from being around people all the time.

My favourite song when I was nine.

I got the CD Chronicles of Life and Death (Death version, apparently.) for my ninth birthday and blasted it 24/7. I don't regret it.

Omg nostalgia attack.

I remember playing this video over and over when I was younger.

I don't remember how old I was when I got my first Good Charlotte CD. 14 or so, probably. I haven't listened to them in ages! To youtube!

(I can't help wonder what the maker of this video has against apostrophes)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TB6Y6kPysqY&feature=related

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I had a friend who would do that to me. It'd be "Nami, what's wrong?" (Only, you know, she didn't call me Nami...) "You look sad! Are you mad at me?" -sigh- And I never was mad at her before she asked, but her asking pissed me off. I don't feel the need to smile and laugh all the time and I don't see why my facial expressions should be anyone's business but my own. Of course, it's not like I answer the question, "How are you doing today?" with anything other than "fine," anyway, so I suppose people have no way of knowing how I feel. Then again, I like it that way. I have an extremely rocky relationship with my emotions, and I'd really rather not acknowledge them. Which is probably why I react so badly to people asking me if I'm all right. Even if I'm not, I certainly don't want anyone else to know, and I'd rather ignore that fact myself. -sigh-

oh my lord.

the last actual job i had, i worked on a team with about 8 women. no males. (well--heh--there was me, but i was stealth at the time.) it drove me up a tree--not because they were female, but because every blessed one of them was the type of female who does that sort of thing. (and before i get accused of chauvinism here, let me just say that i know there are guys who do that too; but in a professional setting, it's statistically extremely unlikely that you're going to get a team of 8 of them.) they would all tippy-toe around each other, and be so careful of each other's feelings, and it was actually policy--policy--on the team that if you were in a bad mood, you had to tell everyone that it wasn't their fault.

dear God. how i ever lasted nearly four years in that place i will never know. i'm getting twitchy just thinking about it... Transyadas, isn't there a business we can all go into together so that we can all make lots of money working with people who understand each other, don't get into each other's faces about stuff that doesn't matter, and who all get the same jokes? seriously? please?

(oh, and i'd just like to say that personally, i think the Transyada Celebration of Angst/Bitchfest is the best thing to happen to this thread in ages. keep 'em coming, friends. i don't know about you all, but i'm finding it the exact opposite of depressing. whatever that would be. i've never really been sure...)

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Two of my favourite bands when I was eleven.

There are so many Hawthore Heights songs to choose from. That whole band is angst.

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boy, you know, i sure hope that Charles has some good angst to share when he gets home from class.

i said--

boy, you know, i sure hope that Charles has some good angst to share when he gets home from class.

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Hey guys: September 15th celebrates Our Lady of Sorrows. Appropriate, no?

That really is. (All right, I can't really be doing with religion, but there's something syncretic or incipiently pantheistic or both about aspects of Mary that appeals to me...)

it was actually policy--policy--on the team that if you were in a bad mood, you had to tell everyone that it wasn't their fault.

Good grief. Just good grief.

(oh, and i'd just like to say that personally, i think the Transyada Celebration of Angst/Bitchfest is the best thing to happen to this thread in ages. keep 'em coming, friends. i don't know about you all, but i'm finding it the exact opposite of depressing. whatever that would be. i've never really been sure...)

Cathartic?

And now I have to go out to the post office and send a birthday present to the young child of someone I've talked about too much today already. (I don't mind doing it or feel obliged to do it; quite the opposite; I think every child ought to have one inexplicable family friend who sends them non-gender-specific and non-cartoon-character presents, and I'm honoured if that person can be me. But it still makes just a little bit of me want to ram my fist into the wall.)

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I had a friend who would do that to me. It'd be "Nami, what's wrong?" (Only, you know, she didn't call me Nami...) "You look sad! Are you mad at me?" -sigh- And I never was mad at her before she asked, but her asking pissed me off. I don't feel the need to smile and laugh all the time and I don't see why my facial expressions should be anyone's business but my own. Of course, it's not like I answer the question, "How are you doing today?" with anything other than "fine," anyway, so I suppose people have no way of knowing how I feel. Then again, I like it that way. I have an extremely rocky relationship with my emotions, and I'd really rather not acknowledge them. Which is probably why I react so badly to people asking me if I'm all right. Even if I'm not, I certainly don't want anyone else to know, and I'd rather ignore that fact myself. -sigh-

oh my lord.

the last actual job i had, i worked on a team with about 8 women. no males. (well--heh--there was me, but i was stealth at the time.) it drove me up a tree--not because they were female, but because every blessed one of them was the type of female who does that sort of thing. (and before i get accused of chauvinism here, let me just say that i know there are guys who do that too; but in a professional setting, it's statistically extremely unlikely that you're going to get a team of 8 of them.) they would all tippy-toe around each other, and be so careful of each other's feelings, and it was actually policy--policy--on the team that if you were in a bad mood, you had to tell everyone that it wasn't their fault.

dear God. how i ever lasted nearly four years in that place i will never know. i'm getting twitchy just thinking about it... Transyadas, isn't there a business we can all go into together so that we can all make lots of money working with people who understand each other, don't get into each other's faces about stuff that doesn't matter, and who all get the same jokes? seriously? please?

(oh, and i'd just like to say that personally, i think the Transyada Celebration of Angst/Bitchfest is the best thing to happen to this thread in ages. keep 'em coming, friends. i don't know about you all, but i'm finding it the exact opposite of depressing. whatever that would be. i've never really been sure...)

Ye Gods. What if it was their fault? I know I'd be in a rotten mood if I had people asking if I was okay. It's like people who keep apologizing. I wasn't mad at you the first time (or didn't feel bad, or whatever) but if you keep insisting on it, then you will make me feel worse. You only need to say 'I'm sorry' once. Really. [/momentary rant]

My thoughts are jumping to 'international criminal organization'...

The opposite of depressing is uplifting, but I dislike that word and it's probably not the one you were thinking of.

Ollz, I approve of your taste in music. -grins- And I approve of the bitchfest because it gives me an opportunity to spam you lot with Evanescence and really, what's better than that?

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And now I have to go out to the post office and send a birthday present to the young child of someone I've talked about too much today already. (I don't mind doing it or feel obliged to do it; quite the opposite; I think every child ought to have one inexplicable family friend who sends them non-gender-specific and non-cartoon-character presents, and I'm honoured if that person can be me. But it still makes just a little bit of me want to ram my fist into the wall.)

What did you get them? I'm just curious.

I got a ton of makeup for Christmas once. I was like, "What the fuck?"

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Hey guys: September 15th celebrates Our Lady of Sorrows. Appropriate, no?

That really is. (All right, I can't really be doing with religion, but there's something syncretic or incipiently pantheistic or both about aspects of Mary that appeals to me...)

I don't do religion either. Though it fascinates me in an academic sense: I can't for the life of me understand why people want there to be someone with them at all times. Sounds awful.

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(oh, and i'd just like to say that personally, i think the Transyada Celebration of Angst/Bitchfest is the best thing to happen to this thread in ages. keep 'em coming, friends. i don't know about you all, but i'm finding it the exact opposite of depressing. whatever that would be. i've never really been sure...)

Cathartic?

yes, very probably, at least in this instance. what i meant was that i've never really been sure from personal experience.

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THAT'S MY FAVOURITE SONG OF THAT CD. I LOVE IMAGINARY.

I got Fallen in fourth or fifth grade. I had badass music taste. (Discounting that Hilary Duff CD.)

And I don't listen to music like this much anymore.

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