#12: Do not mess with anything in the wild that looks like carrot greens. It’s probably a form of hemlock.
I do not tell you that I am autistic* for your pity. I don’t need another person looking at me with motherly concern, allowing an “awww” to escape their downturned lips. I don’t tell you I’m autistic because I want you to pray for me. While, when I’m in a “nice” mood, I can appreciate the sentiment, I don’t appreciate the presumption that I’m of the same religion you are. Or of any religion, really.
I tell you I’m autistic because it’s relevant to the conversation we’re having. I don’t just blurt it out indiscriminately. I tell you because it explains an action I’ve just performed, like flapping my hands when I get overwhelmed, or freaking out when I feel out of control.
I don’t tell you so that you can tell me about your sister’s friend’s brother’s child who’s autistic and how horrible it is and how I don’t look autistic and couldn’t possibly be because… y’know… I’m functional.
Sometimes I tell you because you’re too damn nosy and ask prying questions about why I’m working at a Hotel when, obviously, I should be going to University since I live in a University town and all. Don’t mind the fact that you don’t know me, just assume I haven’t already gone and have found it to be painful and horrible and too expensive to boot. Don’t mind the fact that I’m quite happy and competent in my job, and overnight shifts work well for me. Oh, and speaking of, feel free to tell me that overnight shifts suck, and look at me funny and continue to question me when I tell you it’s ok, it’s my job and I’m a night owl anyway. (And then flirt with me, because only slutty girls would be working overnight shifts and they have to be attracted to every guy that walks by.)
So please, accept what I tell you at face value, and keep your pity and prayers quiet. Save them for someone who wants them. Accept me for who I am and what I do, and quit telling me I need to be someone different because it’s what *you* expect. Maybe then I won’t have to tell you I’m autistic.
*I have Asperger’s Syndrome. Apparently not typical in females, and presents itself differently than it does in males, so no one believes me.
Wow. Just clicked through to a story on the BBC about an unlicensed “nasal spray tan” that the Medicines and Healthcare products Regulatory Agency (MHRA) has said is illegal to sell in the UK, and they’re advising consumers “Don’t use this product, throw it away if you have already bought it and don’t buy any more.”
There’s no proof that it works, or really any indication as to what it does or how it’s supposed to work. You spray it up your nose twice a day for two weeks, and somehow you tan. There’s no ingredients list on the bottle, but the website for Ubertan says it contains an “all natural extract” from the Indian Coleus plant.
If I had any interest in tanning and was looking at this product, I’d have run from it by now. Especially after such pointed government warnings. But then there’s this woman…
Nicole bought Ubertan from her local tanning salon. She is worried about the contents but will continue to use it until there’s proof that it is unsafe.
“I didn’t know anything about it when I first took it, so I wasn’t worried at all. I didn’t even think about it really,” she admitted. ”This is the best tan I have had.”
Really. Not knowing anything about it makes you not worry? That seems… counterintuitive, to say the least. And now that you do know something about it, you’re still going to wait until there’s absolute proof it might kill you? Nicole described the side effects earlier in the article:
“You feel a bit dizzy and you get a head rush like you’ve had your first cigarette of the day,” she said. “I started to feel sick, but it wore off after two hours.”
But yeah, she’s gonna go ahead and keep using it. Have fun with that.
Random Invader Zim moment there. Sorry.
I’ve hopped on the Google+ bandwagon. I’ve inadvertently abandoned my little baby tumblr in the process. I’ll probably still use this for long ramblings, but G+ really works well with my usual stream of thought process. Just have to figure out how to connect this to that and then everyone can be force fed my insanity! yay!!
Advice Goddess: How much longer must we be subjected to invasive TSA patdowns? http://t.co/8G44TYM Ugh. I never want to travel again…
RT @warrenellis: The cost of the GREEN LANTERN film could have paid for the ten sequels to MACHETE I eagerly, sadly await.
Ooooh, just gave a non-local directions through P-county. Poor guy. Have fun finding Reedsville…
Struck with the desire to become a notary public. Also, is there a great demand for personal writers anymore? Because I could so do that.
Bloggers have it easy in the world of writing. A lot of us have no one but ourselves and the terms of service agreements of our hosts to answer to. Others have editors and owners of sites they submit to, but for the most part news posts on blogs and the like are not held to the same supposedly strict standards of journalism.
This is a rant about grammatical and stylistic standards. I don’t believe they exist anymore.
A two-story house in the Morgantown area is no more after flames destroyed it Monday night.
It started around 7:30 p.m. on Mountain Ridge Road, just off of Breakiron Hill Road.
When crews got there, flames and smoke were showing. It took the cooperation of four fire departments, and about thirty minutes time to get the fire under control.
No one was hurt in the fire.
The cause of the blaze is unknown. The State Fire Marshal’s Office has been called in to figure that out.
This is the entirety of an article from WDTV, a local news station in my area. Granted, this is the station’s web site, and small blurbs aren’t the best example of stunning journalism. But this made me cringe. Taken as a whole, it makes me think a middle school English student wrote it for one of those terrible busy-work assignments. I remember those days. “Now class, pretend you’re a news reporter! Pick a headline from your local newspaper and write your own story!” Blah. Mine were always far too sarcastic for my own good.
This article started out with an attempt at some over dramatic prose- “A two-story house in the Morgantown area is no more”… ooooh, scary. Then some content. Fine, doesn’t have to be frilly or verbose. Throw in a couple extra commas here and there to take up space. Single line stating that no one was hurt; that’s good, people are skimming for that information anyway. Oh, but then the last line. “The cause of the blaze is unknown. The State Fire Marshal’s Office has been called in to figure that out.” Figure that out. Is this an attempt at familiar vernacular, or are you really so bad at professional writing that you couldn’t come up with the phrase “to determine the cause”?
As I stated above, blog writers have a free pass 99% of the time to use familiar language, or as the Simpsons put it “he writes like people talk!”. And this is far from the worst example of a local news story I’ve read. But I firmly believe that news articles and other forms of journalism should adhere to more professional language styles. Part of this is me not wanting our state and town represented by writing that makes us look like slack-jawed yokels. (Ooh, another Simpsons reference!) The rest is a desire to enjoy reading the local news for once, rather than having my inner Grammar Nazi/English major cry and fight the urge to rewrite the entire newspaper.
***Small print. No, I don’t want to be a journalist. I don’t have the investigative or interviewing skills. Yes, I’d love to be a copy editor. Being pedantic is fun! No, I didn’t actually major in English but I might as well have done so. Yes, I’m sure there are grammatical errors in my post, and many people hate the term Grammar Nazi. No, I don’t care at the moment.***