alas-dear-kathy

[alas-dear-kathy]

[alas-dear-kathy]

[alas-dear-kathy]

Tomorrow will be better.

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nature documentary but the narration is just weird enough to make you question it

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[alas-dear-kathy]

child handling for the childless nurse

My current job has me working with children, which is kind of a weird shock after years in environments where a “young” patient is 40 years old.  Here’s my impressions so far:

Birth - 1 year: Essentially a small cute animal.  Handle accordingly; gently and affectionately, but relying heavily on the caregivers and with no real expectation of cooperation.

Age 1 - 2: Hates you.  Hates you so much.  You can smile, you can coo, you can attempt to soothe; they hate you anyway, because you’re a stranger and you’re scary and you’re touching them.  There’s no winning this so just get it over with as quickly and non-traumatically as possible.

Age 3 - 5: Nervous around medical things, but possible to soothe.  Easily upset, but also easily distracted from the thing that upset them.  Smartphone cartoons and “who wants a sticker?!!?!?” are key management techniques.

Age 6 - 10: Really cool, actually.  I did not realize kids were this cool.  Around this age they tend to be fairly outgoing, and super curious and eager to learn.  Absolutely do not babytalk; instead, flatter them with how grown-up they are, teach them some Fun Gross Medical Facts, and introduce potentially frightening experiences with “hey, you want to see something really cool?”

Age 11 - 14: Extremely variable.  Can be very childish or very mature, or rapidly switch from one mode to the other.  At this point you can almost treat them as an adult, just… a really sensitive and unpredictable adult.  Do not, under any circumstances, offer stickers.  (But they might grab one out of the bin anyway.)

Age 15 - 18: Basically an adult with severely limited life experience.  Treat as an adult who needs a little extra education with their care.  Keep parents out of the room as much as possible, unless the kid wants them there.  At this point you can go ahead and offer stickers again, because they’ll probably think it’s funny.  And they’ll want one.  Deep down, everyone wants a sticker.

[alas-dear-kathy]

For more posts like this, go to @mypsychology

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there’s this guy on twitter who floods the timelines of women who are getting rape threats from the alt-right with pictures of his very cute dog tucker

he calls it the ‘daily tucker service’ & ppl who are looking to drown out hate in their timelines can subscribe to it.

I just thought that you should know, in case you were losing faith in humanity.

[alas-dear-kathy]

so i just learned something fun, evidently Japanese Undertale fans argued for ages over whether Sans would refer to himself as “ore” or “boku” in an official translation. 

for those that don’t know, the japanese language has several words for referring to yourself. watashi, watakushi, ore, boku, et cetera. “ore” and “boku” are primarily used by men, with “ore” being considered “manly, but slightly arrogant” and “boku” being “childish, but more polite” 

anyway japanese fans argued about what sans would refer to himself as. then the official translation comes out. what word does sans refer to himself as?

“oira”

“oira” is a word that is almost exclusively used by “country bumpkins.” kinda like how a person from the american south is definitely going to say “y’all” at least three times in any given conversation. “oira” is like if there were a personal pronoun version of the word “y’all” in English 

and japanese fans were PISSED because it made Sans seem like a hick, and didn’t calm down until they learned that Toby picked the word himself 

and that’s really funny

source

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Source

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the fact that Donald Trump will die in my lifetime is a very comforting thought

[alas-dear-kathy]

Have a seat on the story rug, kids, it’s time for one of the oldest classic D&D tales I know! I referenced it a while ago and I occasionally get reblogs asking about it, so, here we are. This isn’t my story, but I wanted to share it with a new generation of players, like it was with me back when I was a baby nerd. This goes back to the long-ago time of the 1970s and a very early edition of D&D.

So a party of adventurers stumbles onto the lands of some lord or other and the DM narrates that they’d run across a gazebo. One of the players, Eric, a methodical sort of guy, playing a paladin, asks, “What color is it?”

“It’s white,” the DM answers.

“How far away?”

“Oh, about 50 yards or so.”

“How big is it?”

“About 30 feet across, 15 feet tall, with a pointed top.”

“I use detect good on it.”

“It’s…not good, Eric, it’s a gazebo.”

“I call out to it. Does it respond?”

“Eric, it’s not going to answer, it’s a gazebo.”

“In that case, I pull out my bow–does it react in any way?”

“Of course not, it’s a gazebo.”

“Then I shoot it with my bow.” Eric, bless his earnest little heart, rolls and hits it. “What happens?”

“You…now have a gazebo with an arrow sticking out of it?”

“What, isn’t it wounded?” Eric is vaguely affronted. “That was a +3 arrow!”

Losing his temper a little, the DM retorts, “It’s a gazebo, Eric! If you really wanted to destroy it, and I don’t know why you would, you could try burning it or chopping it to bits with an axe.”

Not having any fire spells or axes, Eric decides retreat is the best option. However, the very frustrated DM sighs, “It’s too late, Eric. You have awakened the gazebo. It catches you and eats you.”

At this point, the rest of the party takes pity on the poor guy and explains what exactly a gazebo is. But they were too late to stop him from going down in history.

For those curious, what poor hapless Eric thought he was fighting was probably a glabrezu, a far less fearsome foe than the Dread Gazebo.

[alas-dear-kathy]

Animal Crossing:

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The Killers: I’m coming out of my cage and…

Me:

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have a good day :)

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[alas-dear-kathy]

OK SO I WAS AT THE FABRIC STORE AND I WALKED BY SOME MEMORIAL DAY THEMED FABRIC AND 

WHAT THE HELL IS THIS

WHY ARE THE ABS SO DETAILED AND NOT THE FACE WHAT

OMFG LINCOLN LOOKS LIKE EDWARD CULLEN WITH A BEARD I CAN’T DEAL WITH THIS SHIT