This was originally posted in May of this year ***************************** Hi, and welcome to a special edition of when doors met... Today we have none other than... Garner! Which I'm sure you probably all guessed from the title of the thread. Or maybe not, since you apparantly need spoiler warnings on a book discussion thread... Anyway, and I remind you all to not post till audience time, lets get on with it. If you could start by giving us a biography of yourself please?
[b:5f8cbbecc7]Posted by Garner[/b:5f8cbbecc7] *stabs Doors in the face* I demand another interviewer! this one is broken!
Gah! No stabbing the interviewer! Right, I shall ask again. Could you please provide a biography of yourself?
[b:5e771ed900]Posted by Garner[/b:5e771ed900] Born in Atlanta on Bastile Day, booted out of a very prestigeous primary school for incorrigible behavior at about 3. Diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder Combined Type at about the same time. Put into the public school system as a "problem child", riding the short bus to kindergarten and seeing arsonists, misfits, druged out teenagers, and punks along side downs syndrome, autism, auspergers, and just about any other mental or social defect you can imagine. They had me on Melaril, which is prescribed to control schitzophrenia at higher dosages. I was a big Star Wars fan and wanted to be a Jedi. After a chance comment to my father that I loved bunny rabbits, I awoke one easter to a scratching sound at the foot of the bed, and found a small black and white Dutch Dwarf rabbit sitting in a box of straw. I named him Carrots. Moved down to the middle part of the state when I finished kindergarten, in part just to get me out of the educational system I was in. Entered into first grade in Douglas, Georgia and was frequently beaten by my teacher for disruptive behavior and not doing my homework. I was also the only child who started the class literate, and was attracting school wide attention for my reading level before I left. Every Friday during PE, the lesbian gym teachers would take the first grade students to a near by park, and we would be allowed an hour long recess period. I cannot for the life of me recall how the tradition started, but it became customary that on these friday outings, all the other boys from my class would attack me. I don't recall any of the other kids getting singled out, and I would frequently be assaulted by groups of them. I also always held my own, and left more than one of them on the sand while going to the lesbian gym teachers to ask for first aid for bloody noses and split lips. They'd sit in the shade and drink Tab or Fanta and tell me to just play nicely. It became common practice on fridays that, when the other children went back to class I would go to the administration office for one of the secretaries to dress any cuts with Mercurachrome. My parents pulled me out of that school system and took me further south a week or two before the school year was over. I remember my teacher crying when mom collected me that day, and telling mom how much she'd miss me. Mom and I both thought she was hypocritical and mentally unstable, given how often she'd hit me or paddled me for the least little thing. For second grade, I had an aging dinosaur of a teacher, nearing her retirement age and fed up with responding to the needs of children. I was easily one of the smartest children in the entire school, but also a fairly uncontrollable one. I believe I was put on ritalin at this point, if I hadn't already been taking it. Paddlings and physical punishment were not quite so common, but still a regular form of correction. For my birthday that summer, I was given a golden retriver puppy. I named her Maggie. Third grade, my teacher was a religious zealot and fundamentalist. She took time out of class every day to read the bible to us, striving to finish the whole book in one school year. Owing to the thickness of her southern accent, I misunderstood her recitation of the plagues of Egypt, declaring that she said a bad word, "Hell," when she'd said "Hail." She responded that she did not swear, and if she did she certainly wouldn't swear in front of us kids. And then she paddled me for suggesting that she had. Paddlings were fairly common that year as well. The worst one came when I was found out after having stolen other children's homework and replaced their names with my own, to avoid having to do the work myself. Homework in that class was frequently transcribing pages or even chapters from a text book verbaitim. When I questioned the merit of these exercises, the teacher replied "It's good penmenship practice." To this day I have horrible handwriting that even I cannot read. Somewhere during that year, Maggie accidentally broke Carrots neck. It was the first time I cried at death, and the only time I ever wept openly. I wouldn't shed another tear, or even actually feel any real loss, until Maggie would be put down. I had a screaming row at my father who insisted on leaving the rabbit's cage open simply to annoy me. Fourteen years later he would finally admit the rabbit wouldn't have died if he'd left the cage closed. That was a long row. Fourth grade saw me enter a private school (one that was founded in 1957, as a place for rich whites to send their children so they wouldn't have to mingle with black students). My entire fourth grade class consisted of seven girls and two other boys. At one point, the girls developed a game whereby they would scream if I ever came near them. The teacher was, at this time, conducting experiments on us for her master's thesis. One of these experiments required that we line up against a wall in the hall and do stretches. As you might imagine, with seven girls and three boys, it was impossible to be far enough away from one of the girls to avoid triggering the screaming game. I was frequently paddled for "provoking them." Once when lined up against the wall, one of the other kids used a racial slur to describe someone (the N word), and I protested this as a "Bad Word." They called to the teacher for a ruling, and she replied "****** isn't a bad word, Clay." By this point, I was steadfastly refusing to do homework and was entering the early stages of a deep depression. Fifth grade saw another elderly teacher, who I easily and frequently hoodwinked to believe that I had indeed turned in my homework and she'd misplaced or lost it. Paddlings were fewer this year, but not unheard of. I'd begun putting on a lot of weight starting in the previous year, owing to a Nintendo (which were brand new at the time), and combined with unfashionable glasses and progressively worse social interaction skills as a result of a too high level of ritalin, I was quickly the outcast and ostracised loner of the class. I'd also started to attract attention of the school bullies as a guaranteed cry baby. I also got my first computer that year, I think. By sixth grade, the depression was in full swing. My primary teacher was a foul and midnight hag, complete with warts. She sired a brood of three boys, each of whom was in the school's athletics programs. If we did not cheer at the peprallys with sufficient spirit, she would assign us lines. 150 times "I will show school spirit." Writing "lines" and paddlings were equally frequent. My secondary teacher of the year was a stern and frigid ***** who was, never the less, a good teacher. Her only fault was an almost split personality, one day insulting me in front of the class for thinking I was better than everyone and had an attitude problem, and the next day telling me one to one that I was one of the smartest students she'd ever had and that I should try to cheer up and try harder. With the occasional paddling thrown in for variety. Seventh grade was more of the same. Constant fantasies of suicide or murder or both. six hours a day of computer and video games, with some added TV watching for good measure. I still had the same two teachers, only their roles were reveresed, my previous secondary teacher was now my primary authority figure during the day. I still had to write lines for not showing much school spirit. Eighth grade saw me pulled out of private school and placed in public school. Given that private school had textbooks that said "someday man will reach the moon", the public school system felt it best to place me in "regular" classes despite the insistance that I had previously been in the "gifted" program when last in the public school system. It quickly became appearant that I was at least one year ahead of the class in mathematics, and occasionally had to correct the teacher on a few points - while at the same time utterly unable to recognize "Seventeen Hundred" as the same number as "One thousand, seven hundred" which led to much amusement in everyone else. I was eventually reevaluated and placed in the gifted program again. I also began to skip lunches, because the amphetamine diet from the ritalin had an appetite suppresant effect and I had decided I was too fat. I was only paddled a few times, and did not get into any fights, but was very much the social outcast. Ninth grade saw one of the most worthless teachers of my life. Again owing to the ritalin, my skin was frequently close to room temperature, especially at my extremities. In science lab, we had to take an early example of laboratory skills and hold a thermometer in our hand and record the temperature. For everyone else in my lab group, it was within a fraction of a degree of 37C, which is human body temperature. For me, it was never higher than about 31C, and frequently closer to 28. We called the teacher over, who inisisted I was holding the thermometer wrong. I demonstrated that I was indeed following the instructions precicely, and doing nothing different from the other students, and he agreed that I was holding it properly... but it still refused to climb above 31C. He ruled that I must be doing *something* wrong. I was paddled only once in the first half of the year. After the semester was over, I moved back to the north part of the states when my parents marriage broke apart and we sold the farm. I enrolled in my last school for the second half of my nineth grade year, and I formed a few friendships in short order and was occasionally taken aside by teachers who encouraged me to "slow down" and not be too forward. I promptly quit taking ritalin on the haphazard suggestion of another student. The less said of my behavior for the rest of that year the better. I was still not eating lunch, and instead would walk laps around the administrative offices which had a central compound in the school building. Because of the speed and relentlessness at which I went about this exercise, and the fact that my path took me by the lunchroom once every two minutes, I was quickly nicknamed SpeedRacer. Before starting tenth grade, I went to the doctor to be prescribed ritalin again, to avoid the mistakes made during the last months of the previous term. For the first week of class I wanted to take only half the usual dose, to acclimate myself to the medication again. By the end of that week, I made a shocking discovery... I now knew the effective dosage. My doctor was disbelieving, and felt that 20mg should barely have any effect on a person of my bodymass, but I was insistant and thus the dosage was officially changed. I remember feeling like i'd finally rejoined the human race after a very long absence. I made a few important friendships that year, and still managed to humiliate myself by walking laps during lunch. In short order, I'd become one of the most high profile people in the school without realizing it. I also developed a crush on a girl that would occupy (and waste) the next few years of my life. I started the 11th grade year with a rough effort at a goatee, which was still quite impressive for being only 16, and at least two students tried to rip it off thinking it was a fake. I had excellent teachers, pleasant class mates, good friends, and good fun. Towards the end of the year, another student and I went to a three day concert in Atlanta without knowing more than each other's name to begin with. The previous year, he'd mocked me for my weird behavior. By the end of that concert festival, we were best friends and he's still the closest thing I have to a brother. The summer between 11th and 12 grade was marked by my first experimentations with drugs. These became my second most common recreational activity after computer games. By the begining of my senior year, my dog had to be put to sleep, and my parents finally got divorced. Experiments with LSD and Pot gave way to other things, ranging from pharmaceuticals (that once left me in an amnesiac stupor and another time resulted in my passing out in public) to Western Jimsonweed, a plant of the Datura genus. That one landed me in the psychiatric ward of the local hospital two days before my highschool graduation. At graduation rehearsal, the administrators announced that the student body was to save a place for me in the line, as I was expected to recover from my "virus" in time to walk with the procession. Most of the kids had heard the truth by that point, and there was a wave of laughter that swept the auditorium at that point. The administrators were horrified and scolded everyone for laughing at me while I was ill. Good times. I graduated, but had to go straight home having only been let out of the hospital hours before. The summer was occupied by a terribly boring job as a grocery bagger. My mother actually went to the effort of pulling strings through a business contact with the owner of the local chain... to get me a job that is often reserved for mentally retarded people. Still, I must be fair, I'd never have gone to take the job if they hadn't made me. More drugs, though of much less experimental varieties, were a common feature of my weekends and evenings. College happened, I wasn't ready for it. Dad went ballistic after I was placed on academic probation and then dismissal within my first year. I nearly killed myself in a car wreck (accidental!), but in the end only suffered scraped knees. I managed to quit smoking cigarettes. I wasn't making much progress on my independant study courses which were intended to boost my GPA enough to return to university, so my father "kidnapped" me as my mom puts it, and said he could make me get the work done. He didn't have any better results with me than I had. An old "friend" of dads was released from jail around this time, an old drug runner and addict from the 60's and 70's. Dad resumed drinking, regularly, while in this man's company. The next few years would be a steady pattern of monthly and often traumatic drinking binges on his part, and a slow lifestyle of computer games, pot, and failed relationships on mine. On October 29th, 1998, the night I called "Black Thursday" for some time after, dad's drinking was probably augmented by the medication he was on, or some other 'medication' he'd gotten from his friends. He became violent. I narrowly prevented him from killing one of my friends, and I had to hold dad down in the street while he beat me while Jay called the police. It wasn't super. After Thanksgiving, dad went away for a weekend with some of the same people he'd been drinking with. When they came back, one of them was bandaged up, dad had wrecked his car, and they'd put the other one in jail for abusing his girlfriend. The next morning dad went to bail him out. It was a pretty sick time all the way around. I'd started smoking again after a year. I resumed college at a small technical school, taking entry level english and public speaking classes to raise my GPA. Dad seemed to be under control for the most part. I quit smoking while still taking classes, and stayed a nonsmoker for another year. Computer games were still the main providence of my time. Dad's mother had a serries of devastating strokes, and eventually died while in the care of a criminal and negligant nursing home. Dad started drinking agian in secret. The night before Memorial Day, i guess it would have been 2000, dad went into a psychotic range after we had a row stemming from his behavior (which I still didn't connect with drinking), and he strangled me with a tournequet made from a neck tie and the scabbard of an officer's sword his father brought back from the Pacific Theater of the war. The police and paramedics said the markings on my neck were the worst they'd ever seen on anything that wasn't a corpse. The tie is currently hanging over the door to my wardrobe, because I've got a fairly sick sense of posterity. I slowly started repairing our relationship on Father's Day of that year, with a phone call. By January, I'd moved out (though I'd been living in our house on my own for most of 2000 after the Memorial Day Masacre) and Dad was living in Atlanta with the woman who would become his second wife. We found that we could actually get along as friends now that we were at least an hour's drive apart. Things get a bit blurry at this point, owing to the amount of alcohol I was drinking... I think that was the year that Dad married Susan, who I'd never gotten along with and who always seemed to resent me. As such, it was a few months after the marriage that I found out about it... via my mother... who learned from dad's sister. Dad finally told me himself that Thanksgiving, when we went to a newly built Ritz Carlton for quite a posh buffet. I found three pearls in the oysters that day, which I still have in a box just to the left of my computer. I was by that time, posting regularly on these forums and had made several new friendships. I was back in University for the fall of 2001, and barely squeeking by owing to my inability to do homework. Drinking, video games, and the internet were my main hobbies, and studying was a distant proirity of no account. at the begining of 2002, i caught a viscious cold and missed two weeks of class... with three english courses, each requiring a daily writing journal, I had panic attacks from the amount of work I'd need to do to catch up, and withdrew from the semester completely. Given that I was still on academic probation, if I'd only dropped one course, i would have had to get a 4.0 in my remaining two to avoid being kicked out again by the terms of probation, and if I only took one class, I'd be kicked out regardless of my grades, due to the final average being below the cut off point. I didn't trust myself to pull two A's out of my alcoholism. That summer I went out to california to meet some friends I'd made on the internet, including a couple of people from the boards. I wound up spending most of my time stuck in the hotel with the air conditioning contributing to the Californian Energy Crisis, watching Power Puff Girls on cartoon network. I'm not friends with many of those people anymore. by 2003, my inheritance had run out, and I had to get a job. I applied for three secreterial positions at the university, interviewed for two, and got the second one. I was the Senior Secretary for the Graduate School's Office of Recruitment and Retention, which was officially renamed to Recruitment and Retention Office by the dean before I'd been there a couple of weeks. My boss insisted on calling it the Office of. Politics were afoot. I quickly soured on that job, seeing as one of my main duties was preparing fraudulent reimbursement claims for my boss. Still, it was quite the interesting experience as a whole. My boss ran the office on a stated goal to recruit more minority students into graduate school, and the "reverse racism" inherent in everything was, if not eye opening, at least horizon broadening. I also got to see some frank insights into the black culture of america that I'd somehow missed up to that point. I now fully believe that America's racial and ethnic issues are merely one symptom of a national tendancy to polarize any issue. That phenomenon will be a direct contributor in the death of America as a world power. During March of 2003, I quit smoking AND drinking, owing as much to my growing relationship with Buzzfloyd as to my own desires to quit. That July, Buzzfloyd flew to Georgia to meet me, and we found the same chemistry existed in person as online. We had a good time, despite her melting in the Georgia summer (she wilted at 7am as soon as we stepped out the front door. Gotta love air conditioning.) and decided to go ahead with planning a way for me to move to England. By early 2004, I'd got my visa, quit my job, and was packing up to move. I drove from Athens, Georgia up the coast to Washington, DC, stopping over in South Carolina to visit my dad who was now a professor at a local college (and who has been premoted since then, and is now also teaching at a University... go dad!). There was a major winter storm moving through the area, so dad suggested I stay over a night before driving up to washington. That delayed me by almost a week, in the end. Towards the end of that week, I finally told dad I was going to get married, and actually invited him. In the end I didn't have it in me to let him find out six months after the fact. Buzzfloyd flew into Washington to collect me, and got to meet mom. It was a long flight over here, but I got here in early February, 2004. We argued a lot, but we got on a lot more, and on May 29, 2004, Buzzfloyd and I got married with Doors doing a terrible attempt at speaking the english language for a couple of readings. Kenny also turned into a walrus. I faffed around with video games, cooking, and once in a while doing housework until the end of the year when it was finally time I got a job. Actually, it'd been time since bloody June, but I'm a lazy sod. I've been working with the local borrough council since January, scanning maps into a database. It's even more boring than it sounds. Lately, I have to wear latex gloves and a breather mask, because the plans are mildewed and worm eaten. I haven't played any computer games for a couple of months because I'm working on a homebrew RPG campaign world, with some modifications to the basic D&D rules as well. It is a thankless and unrewarding task, but luckily there's still idiots on the boards to yell at which serves as a plesant diversion. ... You did say you wanted a verbose biography, right?
Wow. I'm not sure what else I can say about that. For the moment, I'll ask something I've always wanted to know more about. You and grace. I've always wondered how exactly you became involved in a relationship. Was it love at first post? Who made the first move? Did one of you make a declaration of love, possibly involving fireworks and a monkey? I assume you had something before Grace flew over to America, but when did you know that she was the one for life? I'm actually quite intrigued by this. I gave a reading (a really great, well spoken one) at your wedding, but I don't actually know much about the details of how you got from Graces first post to walking up the aisle.
[b:2a6754911c]Posted by Garner[/b:2a6754911c] I was there, and I distinctly remember that reading being so bad that Grace's mum (who was the minister who preformed the ceremony) felt the need to redo the reading for you. Actually, I thought that was a bit rude of her, as your version wasn't THAT rubbish. words like "Ashunder" were new though. Probably more of those made up words like "Shoogly". Anyways, Buzzfloyd says I replied to her first post, and rather dismissively so. I can't even remember what it was, so I don't think it's fair to say it was "love at first post" Actually, I think we have to owe our getting together to a person who's no longer on the boards, Samantha Vimes. Buzzfloyd had been chatting with Sam on AIM, and I'd been chatting with Sam on AIM, and so she got us talking to each other. It built slowly, the first few conversations were mostly of the "so... you like pratchett huh?" variety. Actually, don't tell anyone this, but I found out that Buzzfloyd had built a "Clay and Grace" couple on the Sims ages before we started talking, which probably means she had a crush on me way back when. Come to think of it, that's probably how we first REALLY started talking... I'd made a gardens plot in the Sims for a contest, and mentioned it on the boards offering to send it to anyone who wanted to see it. Buzzfloyd was the only taker. Anyways, chats on AIM tend to go their own ways, and sooner or later I think we both just found ourselves flirting with each other a bit. We respected each other's intelligence, we enjoyed each other's company, and so flirting just slipped in some how. A chance comment here, an unintended word there, and suddenly things were moving in a new direction. We started having phone conversations as well, and swapped pictures so I could make sure she wasn't really some fat pervy Arsenal supporter or something. As I said in the bio post, by July of 2003, we were pretty sure things were really and truely love, but wanted to make sure it was going to be the same in person. She flew out here for a vacation, and the magic was even more undenyable. I can't quite remember if i proposed in ernest then, or when she flew back to collect me in February of 2004, when mom had given us the family wedding rings, and a diamond and ruby anniversary ring to use as an engagement ring. Actually, I remember going with dad when he bought that thing... sometimes I feel a bit bad about not having been able to get a proper engagement ring, but grace likes the one she has just fine. I even got down on one knee to offer it and everything.
Awww And it was a damn fine reading! And not at all one of the most crushingly embarrassing moments of my life. Anyway, what would you say is your best and worst qualities?
[b:1aea2396d4]Posted by Garner[/b:1aea2396d4] hmm... I've got a typing speed that's hovering at 120 words per minute these days... Other people tell me I'm creative... honestly, I can never really answer those questions. owing in no small part to a life of people tearing me down, i'm often filled with doubt about my self-worth and so I find listing my skills or qualities to be very difficult. my weakspots, on the other hand... they're easier to pinpoint. Most of them are just two sides of the same coin, however. I'm "creative" or an "ideas person" in no small part BECAUSE of the attention deficit that means I can't concentrate on anything for very long. like that bio post... all sorts of stuff I left out simply because by the time I got to the point where I wanted to mention it, I'd forgotten about it. serriously, ask Buzzfloyd instead of me. She can give a more objective answer. I'll just post my CV. in fact... here it is: [b:1aea2396d4]Skills[/b:1aea2396d4] · Over 100 WPM typing ability · Fifteen years DOS and Windows computing experience · Eight years Internet and MS Office experience · Familiarity with standard office equipment [b:1aea2396d4]Education[/b:1aea2396d4] · The University of Georgia – Attended Fall 2001 · Gwinnett Technical College – Attended 2000-2001 · The University of Georgia Independent Study – 1998 · The University of Georgia – Attended 1996-1997 · Oconee County High School – Graduated 1996 [b:1aea2396d4]Employment[/b:1aea2396d4] · Hastings Borough Council, Planning & Development Control, Clerical Officer (Scanning) – Jan. 2005 – present. Job responsibilities include scanning archival maps, organizing and maintaining filing and archive system, occasional reception duties and other ad hoc tasks. · The University of Georgia, Graduate School Senior Secretary – Jan. 2003 to Jan. 2004. Job responsibilities included staff training and management; event planning and coordination; bookkeeping and budget development; developing new filing systems; general office management; general receptionist, secretarial, and personal assistant duties; brochure design; student counseling and liaison duties. Reason for leaving: Resettlement. · James Garner & Associates, Inc. – 1998 to Jan. 2004. Job responsibilities included data entry for research projects; word processing and content development for major periodical web site; framing of antique prints; managing inventory of imported rugs and e-commerce listings; bookkeeping; carpentry and house painting; secretarial and clerical duties. Reason for leaving: Resettlement. · The University of Georgia, International Students and Programs Work-Study position – 1996-1997. Job responsibilities included photocopying, filing, mailings and running errands. Reason for leaving: Work-Study assignment ended. [b:1aea2396d4]Personal Information[/b:1aea2396d4] I am well-read with a wide range of interests, from History and Psychology to Politics and Literature. I am also a great music lover, with an extensive record collection. I recently emigrated to the UK from the US to get married. I have myriad work experiences, including office management and freelance work for private investigators and law firms. I have good IT skills and enjoy home computing, as well as cooking and gardening.
Ah, music. That brings us nicely to the next question. If you were to be shipwrecked on an island or something of that nature, what... 4 albums would you take with you?
[b:091190d64d]Posted by Garner[/b:091190d64d] Assuming I've got a power supply to play them, eh? And I take it the "how to get rescused off a deserted island" audio book is out of the question? Hmm... a good quality recording of the Grateful Dead shows at the Filmore West that the selections on Live Dead were taken from. That's a fantastic concert. Pink Floyd - Animals... in some ways that album was formative of my enitre mental outlook on life. Nirvana - Nevermind... in some ways, that album was formative of my entire mental outlook on life. also, it was the first "contemporary" album i'd ever purchased since sting's Dream of the Blue Turtles. Talking Heads - Live: Stop Making Sense... Talking Heads were, along with the Police, the bands I first grew up with. I'd walk around the house at 2 years of age singing, or trying to sing, some of their songs. It wasn't until later that I moved onto Pink Floyd and Cream and basicly the acid/prog rock genre as a whole.
Ok, last question. Once garner answers, it's open to the audience. Also: this is a new speed recored for one of these! Normally takes several months Right, where do you see yourself in the next few years? Anything you want to achieve? People you hope to have killed? What are your hopes and ambitions?
[b:bf009dc206]Posted by Garner[/b:bf009dc206] Hell, ideally I'll have decided where I want to be and have made progress towards it. Maybe teaching, or something. I fully expect to have killed you by christmas of this year, so I'd hardly call that long range plans. One of the questions that's given me the most trouble in life is "what do you want to do?" as a kid my first answers were always "scientist" or "Teacher", and i was always discouraged from teaching and i never sat still in class long enough to be able to go for a hard science route. Now, if I could be a professional beta-tester for crap video game companies, that'd rock... At some point, when we can afford it, Buzzfloyd and I want to start a family. Now aint that a scary thought?
[b:7a048836ef]Posted by Captain Davo[/b:7a048836ef] How long did it take you to settle in as an American in Britain?
[b:e577339839]Posted by Garner[/b:e577339839] 15 months and counting... I had a hell of a time my first few weeks. The first trip to a grocery store almost killed me. Still, I think i'm fairly well settled in now. When I went home over the new years holidays, I was shocked at how garrish the american accent sounded to my ears... and I grew up with that all my life. Some days I can't quite tell if a person is speking "american" or "english" and that gets confusing. I think after the first month or so, I was functional in Britain, but it was about six months or so before I was really comfortable.
[b:5ce6be6751]Posted by Ceriphinz[/b:5ce6be6751] Just a couple of hopefully simple ones - Why did you choose to move to the UK, instead of both of you moving to a more temperate climate on US soil? and Hows work been lately - any more problems with the window hogging women or unhelpful co-workers?
[b:fd83541625]Posted by Garner[/b:fd83541625] I'm fed up with America. The uneducated electorate, the polar fanaticism on any issue, the religious oppression, the ethnic tension, the sexual repression, the wretched civic planning, the corrupt governments at all levels, the abusive gun nut cops, Cheney... I don't think Buzzfloyd was eager to move there, I was happy to get out. Also, it was easier, in terms of visas and whatnot, for me to relocate than her. Lastly, from her point of view, her family is all local and tightly knit. None of mine were local, and we get along better separately. Work sucks. All jobs do, really. Still, it pays, and it's a lot easier than most jobs I could be doing.
[b:8f25edf6ee]Posted by Rincewind[/b:8f25edf6ee] [quote:8f25edf6ee]Originally posted by Garner: At some point, when we can afford it, Buzzfloyd and I want to start a family. Now aint that a scary thought? [/quote:8f25edf6ee] Not as scary as her choice in baby names! Anyway, Seening as Doors' continues to steal my question i'll have to think of another Urm...How much of a pervert was the first man to drink milk? um, maybe thats not highbrow enough- What things make you happy in life? What are you views on religion- What with you being less religous than Grace, Will your kids (who for covience sake I shall name Damien one,Damien two and Damiwina-just planting the seed) have a religious upbringing?
[b:6cd7e81e48]Posted by Garner[/b:6cd7e81e48] I don't see anything perverted in drinking milk... provided it's not some sick twisted plan to starve a baby of vital nutrition and feed some hairy, sweaty dirty mac wearing greebo's lactation fetish. Good food, good company, and video games make me happy. I also welcome the donations of money, pornography, and video games, as receiving gifts of these things also makes me happy. I often do enjoy more anti-social pleasures in life. It's not uncommon for me to be on an outing and wish I was back home at the computer. Due to my ADHD, I've even gotten bored at movies and concerts that I'd been looking forward to for ages, and start to consider leaving early. That said, I do enjoy time with my friends, and just about any activity with them. As for religion... I was raised High Church Episcopal, which is pretty much the same thing as High Church Anglican. I don't attend anymore, and my own religious beliefs are fairly shakey and open to reinterpretation at a moment's notice. Luckily, this is not incompatible with Grace's religious outlooks. While she is very much a Christian and a part of the Methodist church, she is not a fanatic, or a fundamentalist, or close minded. I often used to say that I'm still a Christian if only because I agreed with a lot of the things Jesus said. It's sort of the same way I could say I'm a Democrat or a Jungian. For the record, I've reevaluated all three of those organizations/philosophies and am now basicly just me, with a whole lot of questions and no great pressing need for answers. I believe our kids will be raised with a church background, but I'll also fully support - and encourage - their right to make up their own minds and if they don't want to go then they don't have to. I get to stay home and sleep in on Sundays, after all... it wouldn't be fair if Daddy gets to be a heathan and they dont. I think it's also worth mentioning an annecdote from work. One of the women has a young daughter who recently announced she was a Jehova's Witness. Seems a class mate comes from a Witness family and was being sent to school with leaflets and a mission to convert the other children. So, this co-worker's daughter comes home one day to tell her mum that she's on a mission from god and is going to help save the world. Her mom quickly pointed out that, as a Jehova's Witness, she wouldn't get any more christmas presents ever again because they don't believe in santa clause. Score one for misguided theological resentment and bigotry, because the girl quickly abandoned her divine cause. I'd like to think Buzzfloyd and I will avoid any such nasty surprises by actually talking to our kids about these things and not finding out that someone else has already been there with unpopular propoganda. More importantly, I'd like to think that we'll accept our kids choices (assuming of course the kid's old enough to make up its mind... I doubt many 6 year olds are going to be very objective about things when it's down to a choice of christmas presents or fanatic crusades...)
[b:28af9ec86f]Posted by Rincewind[/b:28af9ec86f] Maybe you could tell your kids they're Jehovas, it will save you a bundle on presents.
[b:a8bbf6061f]Posted by Electric_Man[/b:a8bbf6061f] Why do you want to go into teaching? And who's your least favourite doorman? (No chickening out!)
[b:3847fdd03c]Posted by Garner[/b:3847fdd03c] I'm not actually sure why I wanted to be a teacher... it's been a recurring thing, on and off ever since I was about 5 or 6. I suppose to some degree it's because I had so few good teachers in my own academic career, but the good ones were absolutely amazing. I've always wanted to be able to make that kind of difference in someone's life. Plus, let's face it, school sucks. If you've got one class with a cool teacher, that can make the whole day come alive. for at least part of my senior year, my last class of the day was with my favorite teacher. The classroom was split into two groups... half the desks faced one blackboard, the other half faced the other blackboard, and the first group of desks. The class itself split perfectly along cultural and mental devides. The people who sat in the first group were left brained, right wing, and generally unable to grasp abstract philosophical concepts. "But *why* did Kurtz turn evil?" I remember one of them asking. People in my group, the Right brained, left winged "Peanut Gallery", as Mr. Bailey called us, shouted "Because absolute power corrupts absolutely!!" Mr. Bailey would lecture to the left brainers while simultaneously interacting and joking with us in the peanut gallery. I don't think I ever walked out before the last class of the day that year, simply because it was almost always an absolute treat to have him as a teacher. I'd like to be able to do that for kids myself. As for the doormen, well... Kenny's an evil giant who never spends time on MSN or AIM. Rinso's a midget who pretends to be Irish in the hope that it can get him laid on St. Patrick's day. Nester's just a yankee redneck farmboy. but the doorman I actually despise is the traitor Eu, Sou Eu? who fled boardania under cover of Christmas and never returned! Damn you Eu, you broke my heart and i'll never forgive you.
[b:d1bf19d27a]Posted by Rincewind[/b:d1bf19d27a] [quote:d1bf19d27a]Originally posted by Garner: I Rinso's a midget who pretends to be Irish in the hope that it can get him laid on St. Patrick's day. [/quote:d1bf19d27a] Wrong agian, on St Patricks lay I ply the girls with coupious amounts of alcohol in the hope it will get me laid.
And that's the end of that one Again, feel free to ask more questions Garner, if you want to give an update on whats new, then go ahead
Hi Clay, my names Kenny. I was just wondering what your thought were on a said game of water background that happened said months ago in your abode. I was wondering which said doorman you felt won the said water background game? Also Clay. What is your favourite variety of Snail? Ella is not an acceptable answer.
Following a link from doors's old thread, I just realized I never answered kenny's post. My favorite type of snail would be the english garden snail, because it's bigger than any snails i ever saw in Georgia. as for the pirate game, I think we can all agree that doors lost and leave it at that.
Doors definatly did lose. Here is a new question, what do you think of the new board? How does it compare to the old. how, if at all, do you think the community has changed?
Well, that's a question that could easily step on some people's toes... so here goes: I'm glad that the Tonyland element has gone on to greener pastures. The community has, to me, returned to its former character thanks to their jumping ship. I no longer show up on the boards and wonder if there's some unspoken consensus that I should be patted on the head and then ignored as soon as my back is turned. Instead, I'm so confident in my absolute mastery over all your pitiful lives that I barely show up on the boards at all. But seriously, I think that there were some major changes to board culture before there was ever a cultural split within the community. The fact that MSN chats are still so prolific indicates that 'boardania' definately exists regardless of message boards, but I'm quite happy to have several new friends on MSN that I didn't have this time a year ago. The message boards themselves provide a meeting ground for new friends, so they'll always be important. The community itself can exist independantly of them. The community seems strong and healthy. When someone, be it an old troll or just a bored kid, decided to bait us with a transparent sleeper recently, I know a few of us were extremely excited by the prospect - and almost disappointed with the speed and efficiency with which they were dealt with (thanks again, Mal!). Looking beyond sheer trigger happiness, this tells me that we've got a working system that will go on working for ages to come. We've always been self policing, and now we can do that WITHOUT sinking to potty talk. The ability to moderate ourselves is just one of the advantages of the new boards. In addition to a sleek look and a lot of fun new options ranging from the games to the shout box (yes, it can be fun even when it's being abused), the new boards are also a showcase for Mal's talents, and something we can all feel like we have a true stake in maintaining. even though we'll never all see eye to eye on some things, we still work through our ideas and the site only grows more entertaining as a result. I can look on a little map now and see if Ba's been online in the past 24 hours, or notice that Hsing must have been reading even if she wasn't posting. I think that's super nifty. All in all, I'm happy about the community in a way I may never have been before. *sniff* I love you guys!
