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How I'm Meeting My Goals
a year ago
A lot of my previous journals seemed like "negative nancy" type entries so I wanna try to be more positive.
I'm making lots of great progress on my genetic genealogy research. I'm getting to the point where I can identify 2 fathers who had children who married, but can't really pin-point their kids names because the early 18th century records are simply incomplete, unavailable, or non-existent.
This is good because the more stories and facts I gather the bigger stories I can discover. Yes, MOST of our ancestors were some boring old farmers who had 15 kids, and their 15 kids lived on their own farms. And yadda yadda. History of America. But every once in while, if you have a Newspaper.com subscription, you find little gems here and there.
1. My 3rd great grandfather, Max, a Jewish milkman was forced to pour his milk into the gutter because a inspector accused him of selling spoiled milk.
2. My 2nd great grandfather, George, a first generation American of French-canadian ancestry rescued a drunk driver who was almost going to drown after having crashed a car.
3. My 2nd great grandfather, Robert, was arrested for illegally making moonshine during prohibition. Then, while his drunk co-worker was driving his car, they crashed and his co-worker died.
4. My 1st great grandfather, George was forced by his adoptive family to plant bombs in gold minds as a child (because he had small hands).
5. My 3rd great grandmother was seen as senile, during the last year of her life she was put the insane asylum later used as the filming location for "One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest"
And there is a ton of other incredible stories I've discovered. It's been a hell of a lot of fun discovering them. And preserving and passing them on via some sort of hard-covered Fed-ex kinkos printed book would be the ideal.
In the past, I would of felt excited about wanting to try out for fursuit dance competitions. The local organizer decided to get very political and said I couldn't audition. It really soured my view of the furry dancer community as a whole. When I used to be knee deep in the culture, now I think only 5-6 fursuit dancers keep in touch anymore. If someone hates you, they'll make a false rumor, then tons of others will just block you without explanation as a result of those rumors.
You end up realizing the whole thing is just a house of cards and you're just waiting to get kicked out over things you have zero control over. Really it's not a world where you are rewarded for your hard work. It's like a gang of cannibals. Once they can't find something to kill they kill their own. And there I go back into my "negative nancy" routine. I don't know, it's hard to be into something for 10 years and then never being aloud to do it again. It really sucks.
I guess you can say my transformation of interests really shifted when I realized "Oh, well this furry I knew for 10 years will just backstab me the instant he thinks it'll make him more popular. But my kids, they'll love me tomorrow as long as I love them always. Well maybe I don't need conditional friendships anymore because they're meaningless in my life"
It's so hard to think of a Telegram name. If I use my furry name, someone will try to troll me and attack me. If I use a real name someone will try to dox and swat me. If I use a fake name no one will know who I am. You can't win.
I'm making lots of great progress on my genetic genealogy research. I'm getting to the point where I can identify 2 fathers who had children who married, but can't really pin-point their kids names because the early 18th century records are simply incomplete, unavailable, or non-existent.
This is good because the more stories and facts I gather the bigger stories I can discover. Yes, MOST of our ancestors were some boring old farmers who had 15 kids, and their 15 kids lived on their own farms. And yadda yadda. History of America. But every once in while, if you have a Newspaper.com subscription, you find little gems here and there.
1. My 3rd great grandfather, Max, a Jewish milkman was forced to pour his milk into the gutter because a inspector accused him of selling spoiled milk.
2. My 2nd great grandfather, George, a first generation American of French-canadian ancestry rescued a drunk driver who was almost going to drown after having crashed a car.
3. My 2nd great grandfather, Robert, was arrested for illegally making moonshine during prohibition. Then, while his drunk co-worker was driving his car, they crashed and his co-worker died.
4. My 1st great grandfather, George was forced by his adoptive family to plant bombs in gold minds as a child (because he had small hands).
5. My 3rd great grandmother was seen as senile, during the last year of her life she was put the insane asylum later used as the filming location for "One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest"
And there is a ton of other incredible stories I've discovered. It's been a hell of a lot of fun discovering them. And preserving and passing them on via some sort of hard-covered Fed-ex kinkos printed book would be the ideal.
In the past, I would of felt excited about wanting to try out for fursuit dance competitions. The local organizer decided to get very political and said I couldn't audition. It really soured my view of the furry dancer community as a whole. When I used to be knee deep in the culture, now I think only 5-6 fursuit dancers keep in touch anymore. If someone hates you, they'll make a false rumor, then tons of others will just block you without explanation as a result of those rumors.
You end up realizing the whole thing is just a house of cards and you're just waiting to get kicked out over things you have zero control over. Really it's not a world where you are rewarded for your hard work. It's like a gang of cannibals. Once they can't find something to kill they kill their own. And there I go back into my "negative nancy" routine. I don't know, it's hard to be into something for 10 years and then never being aloud to do it again. It really sucks.
I guess you can say my transformation of interests really shifted when I realized "Oh, well this furry I knew for 10 years will just backstab me the instant he thinks it'll make him more popular. But my kids, they'll love me tomorrow as long as I love them always. Well maybe I don't need conditional friendships anymore because they're meaningless in my life"
It's so hard to think of a Telegram name. If I use my furry name, someone will try to troll me and attack me. If I use a real name someone will try to dox and swat me. If I use a fake name no one will know who I am. You can't win.
