I agree with TDub
That is all

EDIT: ancrenne, you have been gazzed.

Another edit. An 18yo singer sonwriter that I worked with until circumstances took her away to Newcastle some months ago has just sent me a very rough recording of a new song she's just written with this email:

"Ok, so it seems, music isn't something you can just stop, this is a song I just wrote, apologies for the dodgy recording and rubbish ending but let me know what you think"

This girl has the most wonderful voice and writes songs to die for and 'from the heart' in the truest sense of the word and she sent ME her new song. The first she's written in months. I'm a bit choked up as I type this.
(MadBouncyDog Barking at the moon since, Sun 5 Oct 2008, 22:12, Reply)

yoo hoo, young man! Oh Mr. Moderator...
Could we have two pages of winners instead of one this week?
I'm so impressed and moved by people's stories and the generous replies I think we need to preserve more than the usual number in Best Of..

Thanks, Dub
(TDub Nunc id vides, nunc ne vides on, Sun 5 Oct 2008, 21:41, 2 replies)

Christmas eve..
I do seasonal work, cooking on Charter Boats from the west coast of Scotland, but during the winter months I go back to my home town and live from what I make over the summer.
Usually fine, but that summer, I'd made very little due to an injury I sustained through work. Anyway.

Had just broken up with the ex some days prior, and was basically walled up in my flat drinking very cheap wine with the last of my money when I got a call.
It turned out to be the best call I didn't 'not answer'.
It was the parents of my best freind , the same freind I've been getting into mischief with since School days.

These are the kind of people who ask for nothing, but give a lot. They grow their own food and make their own wine and are just the nicest family in the universe.
During my after School years, I was a bit 'lost' as my family home had been sold and I didn't want to go to Scotland with the rest of the family, I wanted to stay and study where my freinds were. These people would put me up, no questions asked and for as long as I needed.
Anyway, they rang me up on christmas eve and asked me why I wasn't at the folk's for the big day.
Obviously there is only one reason, and that was that I was skint and feeling sorry for myself. (Okay, two reasons.)

They whent above and beyond , and as soon as the phone was down they had rang the train company to see if trains were running on Christmas eve. They then went and booked these expensive tickets and drove to my flat with them! I was a bit of a mess, and wept true tears of gratitude. In the packet with the tickets was also £20 for some food on the train , as they knew I probably hadn't consumed anything but wine in days.

This whole long winded tale is just my way of saying thank you. If not for them, I don't know what I would have done as I was feeling a bit of a failure and definitely too old to be sponging off my freind's parents. I said this to them, and they told me to shut up.
They are fantastic people, and they saved my soul that Christmas. Thank you so much, if you read this (unlikely) and know that I will do the same for someone else if I ever get the chance.

No apologies for length, or lack of funnies. This is my tale of Christmas spirit actually existing for once.
(Sir Clitherington Smythe offers him yourself., Sun 5 Oct 2008, 21:18, Reply)

Well, there was this French woman and her young daughter on a bus in Edinburgh...
I'd been out shopping, and I'm afraid I'd been a grumpy old bitch. I got on the bus, which was fairly full; not many seats to be had. Anyway, this woman and her daughter got up and offered me their seat.

Instead of being grateful, I'm afraid to say I offered them both a mouthful of abuse, harking on about how I'd fought in two world wars and paid taxes for them to have an education, therefore it was my right to sit on a bus. It was only when her daughter spoke French to me, in the middle of my tirade, that I realised what a totally grumpy old biddy I'd been. They got off before I could apologise.

So to that nice French lady and her articulate daughter, thank you. I didn't mean to be so so rude, but I'd had a bad day. My bunions were playing up, and to top it all, I'd got to Asda only to find that the price of butter had gone up. But you gave me a seat and saved my poor old trotters. Thank you; thank you so much both of you. I apologise for my rudeness.

Signed,

Mrs Brady (Old Lady).

Apologies for the obscurity of this post; off topicers might get it
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Sun 5 Oct 2008, 20:44, 11 replies)

big girls bra....
Several moons ago I mentioned on here about the difficulty my wife and stepdaughter have buying bra's because the majority of the companies and stores in Britain seem to think that if you have a large number at the front of the size you're going to need dd, e, f, g, h, and so on... (jj? You poor thing.)
Out of the blue, and not knowing me from Adam, a b3tan in America has offerred to buy them some from Walmart (who own ASDA) and ship them over, and doesn't want paying until we've received them.
I won't name you, but you deserve all the happiness you can get.
(paof2 Nude might not be rude, but rude could be nude..., Sun 5 Oct 2008, 20:25, 6 replies)

Woo!
My Dad made me a cake today and it's not even my Birthday!
( Mellicious is made of candy, Sun 5 Oct 2008, 20:17, 3 replies)

Breaking up is hard to do...
Yesterday, my wife and I decided that we would finally split up after being together 12 years and married for 8. It's been coming for a long time where we haven't been getting on with each other and spend all our time bickering and arguing over the silliest of things. With 2 little 'uns aged 6 & 2, it's not a good atmosphere for them to brought up in. It was starting to affect them as we'd take out our shitty moods and arguments on them by being less patient and tolerant and shouting at them for the silliest things.
It's a strange situation as we still love each other as best mates and hopefully always will - we just can't live with each other as husband and wife.

Yesterday was the worst day of my life. Having to sit down and tell the kids was something that wil unfortunately live with me forever. The 2 yr old didn't and doesn't understand but seeing your 6 yr old daughter literally crumple in front of you is an image I'll always live with.

My family has been amazing throughout all this. Although they have all been suprised by the news, nobody was really shocked.

My Gran died about 8 months ago and her house has been empty since - no buyers on the market because of the credit crunch. Straight away my Mum and Dad agreed that I could move in and between them, my brother and sister we've got the place looking homely already. My wife insisted that I take the youngest's bed so they will always have a room here (the eldest has bunk beds so they can both kip in there).

My sister came round last night with a bottle of vodka and ordered an Indian. Food has been the last thing on my mind but I managed to hold down a little bit. She held me when I completely broke down and let me cry as long as I wanted without saying anything.

My brother has helped me move some furniture in today on his only day off in 2 weeks, then offered to take me out for food and beer tonight without getting pissed off when I turned him down as I'm really not up to it.

Mum and Dad have done the full parenting thing by stocking up the cupboards and bringing all sorts of stuff round. Also leaving money where they knew I would find it as I'm too stubborn to accept any off them.

My wife (can't call her anything else at the minute) insisted that I spend the afternoon with the girls to involve them, sorted out boxes of toys to bring round here so they'd know it's another home to them. She then cooked a full Sunday dinner and insisted I stayed for it (and understanding when I left most of it) and then made sure I stayed to help get the girls bathed and put them to bed.

So that's the nicest thing people have done for me - just been there when I needed them most. It's still the worst time of my life but knowing that they will do what they can to help me makes me realise how lucky I am.

Edit - thanks for all the kind and supportive replies and messages. Today was the first day since it all happened that I have felt positive about the future. We would try counselling if we thoguht it would do any good, but we both know there is nothing there between us. Hugs back to everyone who sent them my way and here's to the future.
(brocky, Sun 5 Oct 2008, 19:37, 8 replies)

The nicest thing anyone's ever done for me.
When I was depressed, on every drug known to man, and generally utterly fucked, I met a girl. She was called Rachel.

Our relationship didn't last that long, but she loved me, and I loved her, and she gave me all the things that I'd never had before. Hugs, kisses, sex (I know it sounds odd, but that really is a nice thing to do for someone), conversation and happiness.

I know a relationship is a two way thing, and it probably ended because I wasn't putting my half in, but for a short time I was happy. And it really did improve my life.
(Half of Stephen Fry's right buttock pissed on your dog on, Sun 5 Oct 2008, 18:55, Reply)

Water keeps trying to kill me!!!
When I was 10, my older brother decided it would be funny to push me as far as he could out to sea on a rubber inflatable dingie. This led me into the bay and towards currents that would sweep me to Norway. After passing a bhoy, I started to get the fear, all signals bypassed red alert and straight to brown. If someone did'nt do something soon I would be caught in the current and be rather screwed. There wasent enough time to get a coast gaurd, so my dad strips down to his underwear and gets in. The water was 21ft deep where I was and freezing cold, I was about a football pitch length out to sea. By the time he reached me he was almost completely numb and barely had the energy to make it back with me. He swims for some time dragging the dingie until the rescue boat comes and takes us back to the beach. If it hadent I think we'd be pretty screwed.I still think it's really sweet my dad would be willing to brave very cold deep water to save me : p
(Techkitten, Sun 5 Oct 2008, 18:45, 3 replies)

Leeds Festival 2007
Sunday morning, and I'm disappointed that I hadn't yet once got drunk. I was also still suffering horribly from Friday's sunburn, so I take one of a friend's codeine tablets to try and help with the pain of this, and we trot over to a friend's tent to get on with drinking considerable amounts of rosé.
Later on, we're in the NME tent, watching Good Shoes and passing round a spliff, when I start feeling light-headed. I'd make the excuse that I'm not much of a smoker, but quite frankly I shouldn't have been daft enough to mix that, the alcohol and the codeine. I stumble to the bar outside to ask if they've got any free water, but I'm told to head to the (nasty) water points and get it from there. I turn round, take two steps, and *SPLAT* I'm on the floor. The last thought that crosses my mind is that the floor's remarkably comfy, and I half pass out, half doze off in the sun.

No more than a couple of minutes could have passed, before I feel a hand on my shoulder, shaking me awake. There's a man peering into my face, asking 'Are you alright?' I nod unconvincingly, and he vanishes.
Not a minute later, and he's holding out a bottle of water so cold that the condensation's dripping off it. 'Here, have this,' and he vanishes into the crowds.

I downed it in one and managed to get back into the NME tent, where Good Shoes were still playing, and nobody had noticed a thing.
(and now for someone completely different, Sun 5 Oct 2008, 18:29, Reply)

Unintentional but...
I'd just been turned down by girl who "already had a boyfriend", though that didn't stop her flirting outrageously with a bunch of guys we were with and generally lapping up the attention. None of my business, of course, but it didn't put me in the best of moods, and it showed.

Phoned up a platonic friend the next day for a bit of a moan, and she asked me along to a party she'd been invited to. "Why not," thinks I, "it'll force me to make an effort and stop feeling sorry for myself."

We go to the party and I make straight for the kitchen as it's the best place to meet people. Get chatting to delightful young French lady, we swap emails at the end of the party.

Fast forward six years, we're now married and settled in France. So thank you, Georgina, for the party invitation that changed my life for the better in every way.
(lolwhites, Sun 5 Oct 2008, 18:18, Reply)

Family
This is my first post but i have been lurking the B3ta boards for about 2 years.
I was a total asshole in my younger days involving drink and drugs, if it got me wasted i would try it, although i did say no to heroin (wonders will never cease).I was 23. At one stage mum told me my sister 10 years older than me had invited us all around for a meal. Um ok i thought that will be nice but what i did'nt know was that mum thought i was on heavy drugs and a total junkie. Mum wanted my sis to 'have a word with me'. Well my mum and dad sis and her partner where all gathered together. Sis asked me to talk in the the garden. Out we go and sit down, sis askes me 'whats the matter, why are you so unhappy'. I start to cry (it does'nt happen very often) and i tell her i'm gay. Sis tells me off for not telling her sooner (probably because my sis is partnered with another woman). Mum comes out and sits with us both and i tell her, mum starts crying. I say to mum why are you crying and mum says 'because i'm afraid you will get beaten up'. I tell mum don't worry i will be alright etc. We go inside and its time to tell dad. I decided to tell dad after we've eaten are sunday roast. I picked at the food and generally coud'nt eat. Sis looks at me and nods, i say to dad 'erm dad i hear you and mum are worried that i may be on drugs, well i,m not doing anything stupid like that but the thing is im gay' Dad's reply is is 'ow are you... well i still love you son'
So my parents and sister are the people who have done the nicest thing for me by still loving me. Ow and i have 2 brothers who have produced grandchildren/nieces/nephews so everyone happy.
(Winny The Shit, Sun 5 Oct 2008, 18:12, Reply)

mikeyboy
I had to give up work recently because my new manager was being a twat (subsequently because of him 'forgeting' to pay a load of us he has now lost his!) he made my life a living hell so i gave 2 years of hard work up. Looking for a new job has been a nightmare, ive ended up temping for the last 2 weeks and praying i get taken on permanantly at the lovely company im at. Anyway i digress, ive had no money at all due to lack f job, havent paid my bills for 3 months, and my lovely fella mike, has stepped in and helped me. Weve only been together since august, but he has put up with me being upset and moody, and even gone so far as to take me the last 3 or weeks shopping for groceries, buy me fags and basically support me, even though he is also looking after his little sister, his mum who has cancer, working 7 days a week at uni, and running car boot and antique fairs. He also volunteers at a homeless shelter giving people free legal advice about getting rehomed and debts and stuff. He likes to pretend he is a big tough bloke all the time, and i know it must get to him, but he is a great lad. And to him, for the last few weeks, im eternally greatful :)

appologies for length, geez im actually filling up writing this lol, someone shoot me !!haha
(santas_lil_hohoho is packing her vibrator suitcase, Sun 5 Oct 2008, 18:01, Reply)

Sheer coincidence
My brother died at the age of 39 from inoperable stomach and bowel cancer. He was a lot older than me, and had moved out and joined the Army before I was even born, so we were never really close. But still, I have a photo of him hanging on the wall, taken on the day he was promoted to Major in his regiment, not very long before the initial diagnosis. He was my bro', and I've always been so very proud of him.

Some time ago, I was in a dreadful state of debt. My house was about to be repossessed, making me homeless in the process, have my credit rating destroyed, everything I owned sold off until the debts were paid, and quite probably lose my job as well. Warrant sales are a bitch.

And the day came when the dreaded knock at the door turned out to be the initial representative from the bailiffs. A big, tough-looking bloke, who looked like he would be well capable of handling himself if the home-owners kicked off violent. I didn't - I had nothing left, I just let the guy in. He was very professional, doing an unpleasant job with calm and civility, and then he stopped, halfway mid-spiel. He was looking at the photo of my brother, hanging up in the hallway. He turned slowly to look at me and said: "That is Tony (Sasquatch), isn't it?"

"Yes, it is."
"D'you mind my asking - how did you know Tony?"
"He was my brother." I was, of course, completely confused by this point. Was this some sort of horrific Candid Camera set-up - what the hell was going on?
His posture and body language transformed instantly. "Fuck me, you're Tony (Sasquatch)'s little brother? He was my Captain for three years. Fucking decent bloke. Right, sod this, I'm not having his little brother made homeless. Here's what we're going to do..."

And he laid it all out for me. What I'd have to do - who I'd have to call, what I'd have to claim for, what forms to fill in, and what to put on them to get them through first time. He gave me names and phone numbers, shared every tip and trick of the trade with me, and promised he'd 'forget' to file the paperwork for my job for a couple of weeks, to give me time to get it all sorted. I'd have to put the work in, but it was the best chance I was going to get.

And it worked. It all worked. I lost the house, but got rehoused instantly by the council, kept all my stuff and my job. It didn't even wreck my credit rating, due to the way the handback of the house to the building society was processed. I was 24 hours away from being homeless and completely destitute, and this guy saved me from all that, because he thought he owed Tony one last favour.

Thanks Robert.
(Leo Sasquatch hates being the grown-up, Sun 5 Oct 2008, 17:05, 14 replies)

Last night..
My girlfriend waited hours in the wind and stinging rain
with me for a business deal that she wasn't going to
benefit from, then offered me sex!


well.....demanded sex
(kristofski6992, Sun 5 Oct 2008, 16:44, Reply)

Homeless boy.
A week ago I was on my way to the bus stop when I spotted a young homeless boy, who could not have been more than 15. I walked passed him as I was in a hurry, and promised myself that if I saw him again, I'd do something to help him.

Well today I saw him again when going to get my travel card. I got my ticket, then went over to him and asked him if he wanted anything. All he wanted was a milkshake and a packet of crisps. I also noticed we were being watched by two young girls, around his age. I went into the shop, got him his milkshake and crisps, as well as some tissues and Wispa, and went back to him. Those two girls were talking to him and had given him a cigarette. I gave him his goods and walked away, desperately holding back the tears.

It saddens me to see such a young boy out on the streets and cant even begin to imagine what got him there in the first place :(
(ToysForBigBoys would spread her legs for Nick Clegg., Sun 5 Oct 2008, 16:12, 2 replies)

She said no.
There was this girl in my school who I loved with all my heart, but she didn't know this... we'll call her K.

K was the prettiest girl i had ever laid eyes on, and from the moment i saw har, i knew she was the one for me.

We struck up a fairly good friendship, but this wasn't enough for me. I was moving to Scotland in a few weeks and i just couldn't contain myself. I told her how i felt and asked her if she would like to go out at some point. She said no.

She completely flattened me, i went into a state of depression for months. Thankfully i came out of the other side pretty much the same old person, but now i cannot place my faith in a girl.

So i have decided to remain single for the rest of my life, which may sound bad, but to me, it is a complete freedom.

Thank you K for setting my heart free.
(LiL_Arsewipe licked your face on, Sun 5 Oct 2008, 15:22, 18 replies)

My band
This very August, in a squally and blustery alley somewhere in Nottingham at night, the rest of my band gave me back my precious, huge, delicious sandwich saved for when I was really hungry and when I would enjoy it the most.

Also, for that extra nice touch, they'd all sexually molested it without my knowledge, for their own laughs at my expense.

Oh wait, that's not nice, is it? I forgot, they're all, to a man, tosspots.
(WarneMarsh My priority for frivolity begets quality jollity, Sun 5 Oct 2008, 15:04, Reply)

Messy knee!
To set this story up, I first need to say that even though I am English born and bred, I've always been happiest when walking in the Scottish Highlands. My favorite place in the world, in fact, is the Isle of Skye in the Inner Hebrides, and that is where the following story takes place.

Twas the summer of 1999, the month before I started secondary school as it happens, and my family and I were camping in a small campsite just north of Portree. This, for those of you unfamiliar with Skye, is a rather small town which is still, for all intents and purposes, the capital of the island - there being no larger settlements. Tourist hub and all that jazz. Anyhow, it was a bright and sunny day with no sign of this changing, and we decided to get our bikes out and cycle to the Braes (a mountainous coastal region to the south) and back. All went well until we reached the beginning of the road up to the Braes, when things got rather difficult. What followed were 2 hours of labour as we rode along a twisting, steep path up the valley, until we reached the outskirts of the Braes, with some miles to go before turning back.

By this time it was raining. My parents told me to go ahead while they took a photo of my brother. I went round a bend but, before I could brake, momentum carried me down a very steep and sharply turning road. The wind was blowing rain in my eyes, and I couldn’t see anything. I hit my brakes, but the rain had saturated them beyond use. But I stayed on my bike until I reached the bottom of the road, where unknown to me the rain had washed loose gravel from the road and hillside into a collection point. I hit said patch of gravel on the road, and the sudden change in momentum flung me off my bike. I landed head first, and I am certain that my helmet saved my life. The rain had made the gravel loose, and I skidded along the ground before coming to a stop, tearing open my jeans at the knees in the process. I lay there for what seemed to be years, but must have been only seconds. I heard a car coming, but the sound, while seeming close, was in fact being carried across the valley. I dragged myself off the road, along with my bike, and soon my family arrived. Now I saw my injuries were mainly grazes, but my knee, where the jeans had ripped away, appeared to be severely messed up, with blood everywhere.

The car I had heard passed by. The driver asked if I needed help, but we politely refused as we didn't want to cause a fuss. Also we didn't yet realise how badly my knee was damaged. However, minutes later he came back, and insisted in bringing my father and I to his house, to clean me up and to get my wounded knee seen to as much as possible. When we arrived I was given hot, sweet tea to remedy my shock, while my knee was being cleaned. This took around one or two hours as so much gravel had gotten into the wound, also a large amount of flesh was gone or damaged to the point where it would in time fall away, and it took some time to stop the bleeding. Amusingly, the man (a farmer as you may have guessed) put a large amount of high-power antiseptic vetinary cream intended for livestock on my knee. Which makes sense, really - when you are that far out, you need powerful medical tools to prevent your herds dying from relatively small injuries becoming septic. In any case, I was lucky - the farmer told us that hill was an accident blackspot, and that only a month before a young man had been killed when something similar happened to him, but on a motorbike. He had been thrown over a fence at the side of the road, but failed to clear the metal fencepost fully and had been killed instantly.

We eventually said our goodbyes and (very slowly, as my knee was moreorless paralysed with pain and swelling) we made our way back to the campsite. Before leaving the island later that week, I wrote the farmer a thankyou letter. The wound itself took several months to heal, as it carried on weeping a foul smelling fluid for a long time, and in fact turned out to contain a very deep seated infection which would have festered a lot longer had I not knocked my knee at school a few months later and torn the wound again - this time releasing the pressure of the infection and letting it heal. Nowadays, the scar is almost invisible believe it or not, as a combination of time and the natural paleness of my skin has let it fade.

So that is my story of the nicest thing someone ever did for me - the farmer who, despite my insistence that I would be okay, turned his car around and took an injured 11 year old and his father in to ensure they were okay, not because he had to, or because he owed us something. Just because he could, and believed it was the right thing to do.
(Lord of Balrogs, Sun 5 Oct 2008, 14:57, 1 reply)

Surprise birthday party!
Nothing earth shattering, but it was much needed at the time. I'd just lost my job in Sheffield and moved down to stay with my parents while I looked for a new house near my new job. (Incidentally don't ever work in the computer games industry.. crappy pay, mad hours and frick all job stability!) Having just spent the best part of 9 years in Sheffield after university I basically had to abandon all my good friends and social life and was feeling a bit low. (Getting cups of tea from my folks to get me out of bed in the morning was ace, but it isn't quite the same as being around all you uni mates)

Thankfully a few of my old school friends got together and threw me a surprise birthday party! :-) Yay.. proper presents to rip wrappings off and everything! I felt a lot better about life after that and stopped being so morose about life. If you know someone is down in the dumps, throw them a massive party and make them feel loved!
(OrangeMochaFrappuccino last watched Dexter on, Sun 5 Oct 2008, 14:05, 2 replies)

Bisto
After splitting up with my long term girlfriend I was in a pretty bad way, I was working nights so I was kept distracted whilst there, but the first few hours before work spent alone in the house we used to share together were pretty grim, my good friend Bisto knew I was upset and took it upon himself to ride over from Manchester to Leeds on his motorbike in horrendous weather to just sit with me and make me laugh for a few hours before riding back when I had to go to work. Its things or acts like this that make you realise life can throw a variety of shit experiences at you but with good friends you can get through em all, nice one Bisto!
(lankynyack, Sun 5 Oct 2008, 13:51, 1 reply)

I would like to thank
some anonymous, probably long-dead, complete strangers. Odd? Yes, I am. Often. Let me explain ...

I'm a working mum. Not unusual. Like most working parents, I run myself ragged trying to keep up with everything that needs to be done. I wouldn't be able to, without these complete strangers. Who are they?

The guy who invented the washing machine. I used to (as a very small child) help my gran wash clothes with a scrubbing board and a mangle. Bloody hard work. I just bung it in the machine and press a button. Hey presto, one hour later, clean washing. Hang it out to dry and give it a quick iron. Job done.

The guy who invented central heating. My mum used to have to get up extremely early to light a coal fire in order that her kids didn't freeze their arses off eating breakfast. I set a timer and stay in bed til the house is warm.

The guy who invented the vacuum cleaner. I can vacuum the whole house in a very short time. A lot less time than it would take, on my hands and knees, with a dustpan and brush.

I should also thank my mum, who taught me to cook nourishing healthy meals in double quick time so that I can actually spend some time with my husband and children. And save money by not buying ready meals. (I do occasionally, but it always makes me feel rather lazy and decadent.)

Last but not least, John Logie Baird. Thanks to him, I can have the odd half-hour's peace and quiet while the kids are entertained for me. Never underestimate the value of that short break.

Actually, he wasn't the last. I'd also like to thank the people who brought us b3ta. Which has made me laugh like a loon, snort coffee out of my nose, cry like an abandoned toddler and best of all, has introduced me to people I would never otherwise have known. I've yet to meet any of them 'in the flesh' as it were, but that's something to look forward to.

So there y'are. A happy one for a change. I reckoned I'd posted enough soppy sad stories and it was time for something different.
(TheWeeWitch hasn't been here much recently .., Sun 5 Oct 2008, 12:26, 2 replies)

Kay and Dave
Who are they? My parents. Everything I have, everything I am and everything I will ever achieve is all because of them.

They raised me, they taught me right and wrong, they put up with me fucking up, underachieving and simply being me.

I'm now doing a job I never in a million years thought I could be doing, I have a fantastic group of friends and I have all the things in the world I could ever want - all because they brought me up in a way that I'd be able to achieve things for my own.

So, thank you guys. I know I don't say it enough, I find it hard to say it to you in person.

I love you both.

Length? About 24 years of it...
(Miraclefish How appropriate, you fight like a cow, Sun 5 Oct 2008, 12:16, Reply)

Not really sure where I'm going with this, but oh well.
I apologise in advance for any potential long-windedness, I've been mulling this over a few hours.

I've been a B3ta lurker for about 4 years now, and *very* occasional poster. Every week I look forward to the QOTW Best page, to cheer up my Thursday. I love the feeling of community you guys have here, the closeness felt in the posts. Which is why the nicest thing people have done for me is share their stories, to make me laugh, wince and cry, sometimes all at the same time.

Here's my tale:
I'm 22, last year I moved to Canada on a general whimsical idea, I was fed up in England, going nowhere, had dropped out of Uni, was stuck working in a shitty call centre job where abuse was the main subject of discussion. I had dual nationality, as my mum was born here, so decided to take that up and make the shift. Going to cut out all the boring details, but I ended up living with my Uncle and Aunt, who had moved out a couple of years previously. I got yet another shitty call centre job, for a pizza company, again on their customer service (read: abuse line, for stuck up assholes calling because their precious Jeremiah and Tarquin didn't get enough pepperoni on their pizza, and were now demanding free pizzas for life. I digress.) The stress of the job, combined with the times of operation meant I became somewhat reclusive, sleeping through most of the day, and never going out.

In time, I get friendlier with a guy called Kris, who'd been in my training class for this job, and was really the only person I connected with there. We'd meet for lunch, often with one of us 'being on a long call' or just simply 'forgetting to go' to reschedule our lunches to be at the same time. I took the plunge, asked him to come to a baseball game with me, even though he'd just moved into a new place with a random roommate (more on her later), he said he'd love to, but just couldn't afford it. So I said I'd pay. I had a kidney infection at the time, and the drugs I was taking for it put me way under the weather, and could barely eat, but fucked if I was missing this. I think I spent about $300 on that night out, dinner and the game, and souveniers, but it was nice to get out of the house for something other than work for once.

A week later I moved into his apartment, against all advice from other people, it just kinda felt right. I moved in with the 2 of them, it was a nice enough place, plenty of space for 3 and all that, and we worked out a way of splitting rent 3 ways, instead of 2, on the agreement that I'd be helping over the summer, but planned to go University in the Fall. Uni didn't happen due to insufficient funds, and at the beginning of August, the job finally took it's toll. I'd been diagnosed with depression way back in 2004, but it's one of those things I've tried desperately to ignore, and any drugs that I've been given generally haven't worked. The 3 of us agreed that I could quit my job, to focus on getting better. By this point my doctor had referred me for counselling too, which is still yet to come through, 6 months down the line.

Fast forward to now, still not working, but trying to get a job, as I feel like such a burden on my bf, as he's been paying for both of us through these last couple of months. The roommate leaves us a big stinking note telling us how we're crap roommates, making her pay half the rent, etc etc. I won't bore you all with the details, but basically I'm sitting here with the prospect of her kicking us out, the only family who actually care about me are 3500 miles away, and just can't help, even though I know they'd want to. I think about how much I miss my mum, miss my friends, and all the little things too. And then I read through here, it's now 7am, and I've read every single post in this QOTW, and each of it's replies tonight, and it makes me realise that, no matter how much I feel like it sucks, and that maybe it would be better if I was gone, that there really are worse things that could happen. I read the stories of people losing their parents, and it touches a nerve, and makes me realise that I still have my mum to talk to, and that she is only a phone call away.

So I'd like to thank you b3ta, for making me realise that lifes problems may consume you, but there is light at the end of the tunnel. This is the best counselling I could have hoped for, you're all wonderful people, who've really helped me get some perspective on things, to try and work through these issues, rather than hoping they'll go away. So thanks for sharing your lives with me, I've now shared mine with you.

And as a side note, I have the most awesomest friend in the world, who is also b3tan, but more lurker like me. He'll know this is me if he reads this, but I'd just like to thank him for always being there as a friend, not in the traditional, shoulder to cry on sense, but when I'm feeling crap, staying up all night with me to gank Horde on WoW, and linking me all sorts of shit from StumbleUpon to make me giggle. This escapism, and his filthy sense of humour get me through. I'm going to end this waffling now.

Length? Enough to 'splode a puppy.
( Trijian, Sun 5 Oct 2008, 12:07, 3 replies)

The love of my life
As a young girl (6 or so) I was rather accident prone. One day while riding my bike I fell off and scraped up half my face and bruised the entire left side of my body. As I lay in pain on the ground, tears rolling down my face, a young man walked over. He was a stranger, never seen before or since in my neighbourhood. After talking to me for a little while he found out where I lived. He then lifted me up in his arms, cradling me gently, and carried me all the way back home. It sounds like nothing but it was the most beautiful thing; he was so kind and manly. He didn't even wait around to have the cup of tea that my mother offered. Sigh. I will always remember him fondly.
(Shlingtastic, Sun 5 Oct 2008, 11:51, Reply)

sweet sweet meat
In some godforsaken moment of madness probably brought on my my parents persistent invitations to go running with them when i visit (i maintain, running should never be placed in the same sentence as fun, unless it involves laughing at, and participants) i decided to use my long weekend last autumn to go on a long bike ride.

I cycled from Bristol to the Forest of Dean on this little whim - packed some snacks and enough cash to stay at a little pub i found, and made it to the middle of the forest. It was a lovely ride, and at 35-40 miles of hilly ground to get there, was about as much as my un-trained legs could handle.

So the next day i decided a detour to Tintern would be fun, to see the abbey an stuff, seeing as i was on some sort of weird, stubby holiday of sorts. On the way i stopped to check out a tiny village church as i have a fascination with them and particularly enjoy making loud noises in the echoey bits. On this occasion, the echoey bits had responded with gusto, so i decided to put a couple of quid in their collection box. And then, in an act i can only attribute to my undoubted early-onset dementia, I proceeded to leave my wallet, complete with credit cards, in the church.

So i get halfway home, and my stomach is rumbling like a herd of stampeding wildebeast, and i see this lovely old school roadside caff. they make bacon sarnies, so i order one with a massive grin on my face, as never is a bacon butty so guilt-free as when you "need" it to ride the rest of the way home. the cashier asked how far i'd come (must have been wearing my bike helmet) and i described my route. she was duly impressed and wished me luck. At this point, i got out my rucksack and rooted about for my cash. It took some time before the realisation sank in that it was not going to be found.

Trying not to look and sound too dejected and utterly failing, I asked her to cancel my order as i did not have anything to pay her with. Before i could start snivelling, i walked out and cursed my way back to my bike.

This sensational woman then ran after me and offered me the sandwich anyway. I was more grateful than I'd ever been for any food-related gift, ever, and the sandwich tasted like it had been crafted by moses himself, in the sandwich shop in the sky.

I continued my ride with a full stomach and enjoyed it all the more for this little episode.

i got her name before i went, and sent her chocolates when i got back. i like the idea of nice deeds going round and round.

apologies for length - if you were fitter you wouldn't be so knackered anyway
( greenish, Sun 5 Oct 2008, 11:29, 2 replies)

Wednesday
Some of you remember me posting an NHS rant in customers from hell QOTW a few weeks ago about the treatment my father received in hospital. Others of you will have seen the announcement I put on OT on Thursday to mark his passing. Life in general has been a bit upside down and odd for the last few weeks as he's deteriorated slowly but surely.

Several things spring to mind when I read this week's QOTW about him. The fact that he and my mum welcomed me, plus two cats, two guinea pigs and two rabbits, back into the family home after I screwed up a few years ago. No pressure to do anything I wasn't ready to do or move out and make a life for myself meant that I was back on my feet again and starting a new career in a few months. I think they knew that if they bugged me about finding something too soon I'd dig my heels in and stay in the old crappy job I had even longer.

The thing with my dad was he was very old school, stiff upper lip and all that, so he never really said he was proud of me and my brothers to us. Sure he'd say it to other people when they asked and would brag about our achievements to friends, but never seemed able to tell us that we'd done something well. So I knew that he'd realised he didn't have long left when he was ending phone conversations with I love you's and a couple of days before he died, made a special effort to call me after I left the hospital and tell me that he was proud of me and he didn't need to worry about me anymore, that he knew I was going to be alright. Frankly the fact that he did, whether he was bugged by my mum to do so or not, means the world to me and I'm really going to miss him.

Wednesday's going to be a fucker.
( fuck shit up the best you never had, Sun 5 Oct 2008, 11:27, 14 replies)

Just reminded meself of this (small rp)
A guy called Faraj joined our team in the office; was a legal immigrant from Iraq and he and his family got out of dodge as quick as they could to our lovely rain-soaked country.
So a few months into work and he goes off on maternity leave, and just before he comes back we do a quick whip-around for a small prezzy and sign a card. He comes back into work and our manager calls for a quick team meeting in one of the break areas and she gives him a small bag and a card, while wishing him congratulations on becoming a dad again (he's got a few kids already).
He looked at the card, then us, and promply burst out crying. We were all a bit stunned by this, and sat there akwardly gobsmacked as we try to work out what to say or do.
After about 20 seconds of this, he started thanking us all and said that where he originally lived he wouldn't have got one comment of congratulations from anyone at all. He also would have been expected to carry on working the next day like nothing had happened. He announced that he was so lucky to work with people like us, then got up and walked back to his desk with a spring in his step.
Guess that kinda gives you a perspective on how good life actually is compared to others and teaches you not to take things for granted as much.
( Jeccius Steam Borderlands 2 junkie, Sun 5 Oct 2008, 11:18, 2 replies)