This is very true. OTOH, I am ready for the next bit of bullshit. (I have SAD. On top of regular old clinical depression. I NEED TO GO OUTSIDE.)

"Of course, I didn't have a winter." <—that's the thing. I am going to feel fucking terrible (and if it hits next week, I'm not going to be over this cold-turned-into-bronchitis before I turn into Allergy Zombie), but if I am not constantly cold and wet and having to shovel snow, anything is going to feel like an…

If it's like the (very similar, but in a different state) school I attended and worked at, partly by paying teachers ridiculously low salaries and not providing any benefits at all except *possibly* a tuition discount for their kids.

If I'm asking, "What's on your Kraut Dog?" I know there's sauerkraut. My question is basically, "Is there anything on there other than kraut?" Because in some places the answer is no, and in others, there's mustard, onions, etc. Sorry I don't feel the need to point out that I'm not one of Those Stupid People by…

Yup. I lived in a small town (under 8000 people, the biggest town for at least 45 miles in any direction). We had some fast food places, but for most of that time we had only two normal sit-down restaurants that were open for dinner. If we were going out to eat, we'd call the diner (or check their website) to find out…

Oh yeah. When it's bad I will literally hide in my bedroom and try not to make any sound if someone knocks on the door—even if it's our landlords, and I *like* them—because my brain is convinced that something terrible will happen if people know I'm there.

My "safe zone" isn't actually based on distance. "Safe" places for me are places where (1) it is easy to get out without calling attention to myself if I start to panic; (2) there are people I know and trust; or, ideally, (3) both of the above. It doesn't matter how far from my house they are, as long as I know them…

If you have an unused (unopened) box of the leak pads, you could consider seeing if a women's shelter in your area needs them before just tossing them.

As a Canadian Netflix member, a *lot* of stuff isn't available. Off the top of my head, looking at this chart, I know that Arrow's not available, which makes me sad, and Downton Abbey is...

It wasn't so much a secret item as it was an old menu item. (I worked at Denny's about 25 years ago. We had them on the menu.)

It was on the menu at the McD's where I grew up. I mean, back when they had the danishes at all. There was a cheese one and a cinnamon one, IIRC.

I thought Steel Spokes was her soul mate....

Asexuals exist.

No, we can't, because if both (or all) people in the relationship are happy with "never," then it's not a problem. We could potentially agree that "never" is a problem for some particular couple, though.

The 2:1 ratio might be too acid for a "classic" vinaigrette, but as someone who hates the oil/vinegar ratio in a classic vinaigrette—too oily, not enough acid for my tastes—I'm looking forward to playing with this.

I think it's a variant of the uncanny valley effect. They look both "too real" and "not real enough," and it makes it hard to watch them.

Should we really be referring to the reconstructed parts of a transperson as their genitals since they are no longer actually reproductive organs?

I don't think you do, unless it's very distant family. My in-laws are (mostly) lovely people offline, and so are my extended family, but both groups can make my head explode on FB—and for the most part, they're not even conservatives. If they're really awful, I block; otherwise, I just unfollow them (so I don't see…

The thing is, no matter how awful fast-food "food" is, sometimes it's at least very close to your only option. If I'm driving to visit my family, there are long stretches where, seriously, the only places to eat that I go anywhere near are fast food places. (And if I'm taking the train, there's one spot where I'm…

Do you genuinely think she is unaware of the pointing/whispering? Because, as someone who does, at times, get pointed at/whispered about, I can give a damn good impression of being utterly unaware of it, but that doesn't mean that I am.