Rant VIII: The Reckoning

That's absolutely wretched. I'm so sorry.

Fuck, last post of the page so I quoted it.

My girlfriend - who lives in St. Louis while I'm in Canada, and is therefore far outside the reach of anything I could possibly do to help - just got carjacked at gunpoint. I know basically no details beyond that, except that her brother is taking her home and we're going to talk later. I'm feeling completely helpless and also got hit with a full stress response adrenaline dump so I'm just sitting here vibrating with anxiety.

FUCK.
 
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My brother was riding his motorcycle in the middle of the day when a piece of shit drunk driver ran a red light and hit him full on. My brother is now in surgery for numerous broken/fractured bones, as well as getting assessed for internal injuries. The worthless drunk who hit him tried to drive away, but he was arrested right after.

I hate the fact that anyone would ever get behind the wheel after drinking. And I hate that there’s nothing I can do for my brother right now. I’m just filled with anger and sadness, and no real outlet.
 
An update:

My brother has a broken collarbone, dislocated shoulder, two broken ribs, an utterly destroyed right ankle, a fractured left ankle, and he broke all the toes on his right foot. They performed one surgery already to restore blood flow to the foot/toes, and he has more surgeries in his immediate future to continue to repair the damage. Apparently if he hadn’t been wearing a helmet, he would almost certainly be dead.

I can’t go up to see him (he lives in Oregon), but thankfully my parents are going to be there. His girlfriend is already with him. This is going to be a rough few months for him. I’m just glad he’s (hopefully) going to be okay.
 

Zappit

Staff member
Oh, lord, Tress. I’m so sorry. At least he’s made it through the night. At least he’s still here. as bad as it is, it could have been so much worse. He’s alive. He’s alive and he can come back from that. It will take time, and it won’t be easy - but he’s still here to fight that fight.
 
Overall very good set of injuries, comparatively. No spinal injury, no head injury, and nothing with the hips or lower back. That’s amazing with that type of accident! I’m with you on being pissed at drunk idiot, but not having those major areas injured is great.
 
I really don't understand the desire to drive while drunk. When I was in college, my Dad told me that it didn't matter what time it was. If I was at a party and needed a ride home but was drunk, I was to call him. He would be there. My grandpa apparently told him the same thing when my Dad was young. I tend to not drink much anyways so I never needed to call, but I was thankful that was an option.

One of my friends would also collect guests' car keys when they arrived at his house for a party. He wouldn't relinquish the keys if the guest was plastered. Instead he'd let them crash on the couch for the night.
 
I’m not saying driving drunk is smart or not a totally shitty thing to do, but I think more often than not the mindset is “well, gotta get home somehow. I’ll be fine.”
 
I think more often than not the mindset is “well, gotta get home somehow. I’ll be fine.”
I assume the rationale is more often either, "I'm going to be in so much *hic* trouble if I don't get home!" or "I can handle it/myself just fine!" (the same way some people will say, "I don't need to ask for directions!" or "I can 'hold it' until I get home!")

--Patrick
 
I've seen all kinds of variations, most often I hear is "oh but I had X beers a few hours ago but I've since had two black coffees, I'm OK, no worse than just a bit tired". Newsflash: driving bone tired is also a recipe for disaster.
The amount of people I know who drive absolutely plastered is very low (because, frankly, I think it's a terrible character trait and childish lack of grasp of responsibility), sadly there're far too many people who think "a bit" is ok. If I'm designated driver I'll drink one glass. Possibly two if it's a long day and some sort of big celebration (wedding from 11AM to 2Am, a glass of champagne at the reception and a glass after the best man's speech at dinner or something), but that's rare.

"Oh I'll get in so much trouble if I don't get home" - yeah, that's why you plan in advance. Get a designated driver, arrange for a taxi, plan to spend the night, get a room, carpool, enjoy the party without drinking,.... Don't act surprised when you suddenly have to drive home - instant teleportation wasn't invented before the party started, it's unlikely to be available by party's end.
 
So housing prices here are a bit nuts at the moment, and out of curiosity I went poking around the surrounding neighbourhood to see what was selling for what.
See my mom's place a few subdivisions over listed as 'sold.' Not that weird, they keep records like that visible for a the better part of a year, and she's been in that place for under a year.
Mouse over the listing... those a different pictures; and I recognize the furniture.
Oh. For. F&@%$ Sake.

She moved.

She picked up.
Sold her house.
And moved.

WITHOUT TELLING ME.

IN MARCH!

I was the last remaining relative that she was on speaking terms with, at least until she had a hissy fit when I wasn't perfectly perky towards her when I was a week out of hospital last September, and when she hung up on @Eriol and I when we called in October to invite her for Thanksgiving.

So fuck her.
Fuck her money.
Fuck her verbal and emotional abuse.
Fuck her narcissism.
Fuck her gas-lighting.

I don't even know if she's still in the province, but I'm getting the locks changed ASAP.

Oh, and Fuck Mother's Day.

Up-date time!

After hearing absolutely nothing verbally since October, and having a parcel dropped on our doorstep in mid/late December, yesterday there was activity.

So someone dumped a small pile of trash (2 large totes and a garbage bag) on my property yesterday. The contents are old (generations old) family photos and records. She also sent an e-mail with a picture of the pile in front of my house.

So I called by-law enforcement to report illegal dumping. Unfortunately, he can't ticket her because there is slight evidence that this stuff could be reasonably be understood as "mine" or "a gift." But apparently, they will be following up with her and doing some "education."

I mentioned that I mainly don't want her on my property, and the by-law peep mentioned that there's a 'protection of property act' in this province and that it's relatively easy to get that enforced/acted upon. So now (much to my chagrin) I have to talk to cops.

Fuck her.
But I am real glad that I got the locks changed!
 
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