I always compliment the waiter is the food is good, they are usually happy to hear it, especially in small places where the chef is their partner
there is always some part of me that gets mad at wholesome stuff like this. Why tf am i like this, it’s a small nice story damn it.
Maybe it’s seeing other people having a good time when you’re miserable?
Not saying that as an insult, by the way; that’s at least how I feel, because I also sometimes get that weird pang of irrational bitterness seeing stuff like this. It’s sweet and wholesome, but I think maybe a part of me is jealous from not having that sort of experience in my own life. It’s part of the reason why I ditched traditional social media, because I can’t help but compare my life to everyone else on my feed. I just want my own wholesome moments once in a while, y’know?
Maybe I’m just projecting, lol.
My brother was a big fan of the band Swans. I liked some of their stuff, I could see where it was meant to be entrancing and jarring and I quite liked it. But there was one particular song, God Damn the Sun, that he absolutely adored and I never understood. It felt like someone just whining for the sake of whining, lashing out at everyone just to be a dick.
I didn’t get it until 3 summers ago when my brother died. It was unexpected, and it hit me like a truck. For a couple weeks I just didn’t really participate or form new memories, I just kinda sat on the sidelines and watched everyone else be a part of life. For those first couple weeks I was indifferent, everyone else was just in a different world than the one I was in. But after that, for a few months, maybe even about a year, I was actually really fucking angry. Like, at everyone. The dawn is breaking, the dusk is fading, people are going to work in the morning and then coming home to be with their families like it’s a normal day. Couldn’t they see? The whole world is over but they’re acting like it’s not. Fuck them. God damn the sun, god damn anyone who says a kind word.
It comes from a place of hurt, of lack, of want. All you can do is catch it as it happens and realize that while your anger is real, and needs to be felt, the people that you’re angry at didn’t do anything wrong and don’t deserve to be shit on.
God damn, that was heavy. Thank you for sharing that, though, that was really touching. I’m sorry about your brother. I’m listening to the song right now, and you’re absolutely right about the pain of loss and the almost crippling white-hot anger that comes with it. The song is actually quite beautiful with that context in mind.
I hope you and your family are doing well now.
It is a perfect song. It does what it set out to do flawlessly. Thank you for your commiseration. It still stings like hell but we’re all still here and the world still has joy in it.
I’d never heard that song before, so I listened to it and now I’ve saved it. Whenever I hear this song from this point forwards, I will think of you, and by extension, your brother.
My best friend died last year, and thoughts like this make me feel small, but in a good way. I hope it has a similar effect for you.
Me too. For me, this feels one dimensional, like a story where everything is good and wholesome, and nothing bad ever happens. It feels incomplete.
Fuck ice buckets. Compliment someone a day for a week challenge.
Looking at you, Tokkers. My online existence isn’t powerful enough and I am only here for the sarcasm and crushing of grapes and fascism when time is available.
Bonus points if it is without any context.
IE: Step on to an elevator. Standing staring at the back and just say “you all look great today”. don’t move until top floor or until car is empty.
I (m) like to compliment guys on there cars. They always like that and you can see there eyes change when they realize what I say.
That’s adorable! It must take a lot of training your palate to be able to pick out particularly good olive oil, I’m not sure I’ve ever noticed any olive oil tasting any different than other.
Not really, all commercial olive oils taste the same because most of its composition is the same. If you ever tried “homemade” extra virgin olive oil, you’d be able to tell right away but I rarely found good oil outside of Tuscany and, even then, none as good as the ones that my friends make.
I used to work in packaging for Sardelli; we bottled, boxed, and shipped many different brands of olive oil of different qualities. There are different tanks of different qualities of olive oil and depending on the mix they are sold as olive oil, virgin olive oil, extra virgin olive oil, etc. Some are expensive, some are cheap, none of them are 100% extra virgin olive oil, just enough that they can be legally sold as such.
Oooooooh I have a similar story.
Went to this awesome winery for a lunch, and one of the courses had some special kind of leaves that taste like oysters.
They were delicious, and the waitress was the one who grew them in her garden! She was stoked that we said so. She didn’t have photos but it was a real cool experience.
I’m really intrigued. Do these look familiar?
Yes! Very similar to that.
For some of us there is no better way to love everyone than to feed everyone with our absolute finest.
Those trees might have been living with the same family for centuries.
Mama mia
