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This seems to be phrased badly.
Pipe smokers using four or fewer bowls of tobacco per day had a lower mortality ratio than non-smokers - meaning the death rate was less for occasional pipe smokers than for the general population. (source)
*gasp* You mean that if I take up pipesmoking, I MAY NEVER DIE??
A note on spelling & typesetting.
It's CLICHÉ, NOT CLICHE'. Similarly, it's café, not cafe'. It's better you leave the acute accent off than insert an apostrophe where one is not needed.
In which I suddenly start crying.
I hate that we have gay pride. I hate that we have to have gay pride, because we are, as a group, almost universally reviled and hated. I wish that gay pride was unnecessary, the way I don't have "brown-hair pride".
I hate that every time I kiss my girlfriend on public transport, I look around surreptitiously to see people's reactions. And that I'm nervous of doing it on our evening train in case someone follows us.
The part with the car.
I was supposed to get my car back today. I put it in yesterday to get a cracked gasket fixed. Thing is ...
... it's not the gasket. It's the piston or something - I forget what. and now it's going to cost me $900. I don't know where I'm supposed to get the money to pay Dad back. I just ... I'm sick of never having any money. Any time I splurge, buy something for me (I bought myself a comic book today - the second for this year), the universe kicks me in the teeth. It's as if there's a force that just wants me to get the message: You're not allowed to spend money. Any money you earn is not yours. Do not spend it on frivolities. Or books. Especially not books. I'm sick of this. I'm sick of never having any money. It's not as though I've even tried to replace my little personal stereo since that broke. I'm fucking sick of having no money.
I wish I could sell prints or something like Sandra did, but I don't draw that well, and no-one would want to buy them. I have no marketable skills. I don't crochet, or knit, or cross-stitch. Hell, I got RSI from trying to knit a scarf last year (or was it the year before?) And it's not as though I can get more work - my workplace doesn't work like that. It's my 7 1/2 hours per week, or it's nothing. I'll be working an extra eight hours per week at a publisher next semester for work experience, but I'm not being paid. I just wish I could do something to earn some money. My sister tutors high school students in maths. She seems to make a reasonable amount.
I mean, I'd like to have some decent office clothes. I'd like to buy more than the one item of clothing I've bought this year (and last year? I certainly don't remember buying any clothing last year) - and that was discounted. I'm fucking sick of being poor. Just an extra bit of money here and there would make all the difference. Fuck.
I hate having friends shout me because I can't really justify buying myself a hot chocolate, or a meal. I hate that I can't shout them in return.
I hate that every time I have a little extra saved up, and I think, "Maybe I'll finally be able to buy a new bra! I can't remember how long ago I last had a new bra! Three or four years at least!", something like this car business shows up and kicks me in the teeth. I can't even spend my tax return on new clothes: it'll be going to re-registering & insuring my car, and even then it won't cover costs.
Mostly, I really, really hate the fact that I'm crying over this.
Pipe smokers using four or fewer bowls of tobacco per day had a lower mortality ratio than non-smokers - meaning the death rate was less for occasional pipe smokers than for the general population. (source)
*gasp* You mean that if I take up pipesmoking, I MAY NEVER DIE??
A note on spelling & typesetting.
It's CLICHÉ, NOT CLICHE'. Similarly, it's café, not cafe'. It's better you leave the acute accent off than insert an apostrophe where one is not needed.
In which I suddenly start crying.
I hate that we have gay pride. I hate that we have to have gay pride, because we are, as a group, almost universally reviled and hated. I wish that gay pride was unnecessary, the way I don't have "brown-hair pride".
I hate that every time I kiss my girlfriend on public transport, I look around surreptitiously to see people's reactions. And that I'm nervous of doing it on our evening train in case someone follows us.
The part with the car.
I was supposed to get my car back today. I put it in yesterday to get a cracked gasket fixed. Thing is ...
... it's not the gasket. It's the piston or something - I forget what. and now it's going to cost me $900. I don't know where I'm supposed to get the money to pay Dad back. I just ... I'm sick of never having any money. Any time I splurge, buy something for me (I bought myself a comic book today - the second for this year), the universe kicks me in the teeth. It's as if there's a force that just wants me to get the message: You're not allowed to spend money. Any money you earn is not yours. Do not spend it on frivolities. Or books. Especially not books. I'm sick of this. I'm sick of never having any money. It's not as though I've even tried to replace my little personal stereo since that broke. I'm fucking sick of having no money.
I wish I could sell prints or something like Sandra did, but I don't draw that well, and no-one would want to buy them. I have no marketable skills. I don't crochet, or knit, or cross-stitch. Hell, I got RSI from trying to knit a scarf last year (or was it the year before?) And it's not as though I can get more work - my workplace doesn't work like that. It's my 7 1/2 hours per week, or it's nothing. I'll be working an extra eight hours per week at a publisher next semester for work experience, but I'm not being paid. I just wish I could do something to earn some money. My sister tutors high school students in maths. She seems to make a reasonable amount.
I mean, I'd like to have some decent office clothes. I'd like to buy more than the one item of clothing I've bought this year (and last year? I certainly don't remember buying any clothing last year) - and that was discounted. I'm fucking sick of being poor. Just an extra bit of money here and there would make all the difference. Fuck.
I hate having friends shout me because I can't really justify buying myself a hot chocolate, or a meal. I hate that I can't shout them in return.
I hate that every time I have a little extra saved up, and I think, "Maybe I'll finally be able to buy a new bra! I can't remember how long ago I last had a new bra! Three or four years at least!", something like this car business shows up and kicks me in the teeth. I can't even spend my tax return on new clothes: it'll be going to re-registering & insuring my car, and even then it won't cover costs.
Mostly, I really, really hate the fact that I'm crying over this.