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If someone tells you their name is [name], then that's their fucking name. Stop trying to find out what "their actual name" is
So-
I'm having a birthday party this Saturday, (it's also a friend's nameday and we decided to celebrate it together) So we made a group chat with everyone to invite them.
We mostly have common friends so like, approximately 10 of the kids are our common friends, 5 are mine and 5 are hers
But it's cool cause we all go to the same school so yknow, not everyone is that close but we'll manage
Except one person, I invited someone that my classmates don't know, actually 2 of them know this person and have been friends for years (I met this person through them) and my best friend has also met this person one or twice
So we're gonna name this person Bob, so, Bob is not a greek name.
Today one of my friends was like who is this "usernameman guy?"
And she was talking with my friend who's met the guy and my friend was like his name is Bob
But she was like "There's no way his name is bob" so that's why they called me and asked me what usernameman's name actually was and I'm like "it's bob"
"But how can it be bob? His parents named him that?"
"That's what he introduced himself to me as. I guess it may be a nickname but that's how people call him so"
"Well I'm gonna call him Mpampi then"(or something very greek starting with the letter of the guy's actual name)
"His name is Bob"
...
Like. Ok. I know- I can tell, Bob is not the name he was given by his parents, I know his very greek last name. I've overheard people calling him by a different Greek name.
Still. He introduced himself as Bob. Their Instagram bio has "Call me Bob, they/she/he" and fanart with the non binary flag as a photo profile
In greek you can't really refer to someone with they/them so they're always referred with he/him pronouns (tho I've noticed sometimes they use feminine words for themselves like καλή) honestly I've been meaning to ask if they would also like to be called η Bob instead of ο Bob etc
My friend dropped the subject assuming I just don't know "his actual name"
But later as we were waiting for the bus one of their friends (I mentioned above I met this person through 2 other people) was there so my friend was like "oh he must know! [Dude] do you know what is usernameman's name?"
And all 3 of us(me, dude and my best friend) replied together that it's Bob
"That can't be his name! Dude whats his name?"
Dude: "it's... Bob"
"Are you kidding me how can it be Bob?!"
At that point my best friend snapped like "What's gotten into you my[girl]? Can you just drop it? The human is named bob" (Μπομπ τον λένε τον άνθρωπο, sounds more friendly in greek)
At that time Dude's parents arrived so he left but I saw his face. He didn't want to have that conversation
I'm sure he knows "his actual name" since they've been friends for years
But if the person introduces themselves as fucking Bob then call them Bob, why you gotta ask everyone
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I'm sorry but this just pisses me off (Not Hunt obviously, but Bryce)
Bryce rant incoming which you can just ignore and I'll probably delete later
But Bryce just puts all the blame on the Asteri. And yes ultimately they are to blame in the larger sense of things. But Bryce plays a direct role in leading them down the path that results in Hunt, Ruhn and Baxian being caught. It was her need to find out Danika's secrets with no thought to the consequences, her idea to go to the Eternal City. And she takes NO personal responsibility for it at all!
Hunt is blaming himself for everything that's happened. Even when it's not his fault at all. When we're in his pov he's constantly drowning in guilt, thinking about how he should of done more, he should of tried harder, he should of been better, how it's all his fault this happened and that his friends suffered.
And then Bryce does none of that. When we're in her pov she doesn't really show any major guilt. I can't think of any times when she blames herself like Hunt does. And I'm not saying she should be wracked with guilt. But a normal person, a good person, will usually feel bad and will feel guilty and blame themselves to some degree when something bad happens and people they care about are hurt, regardless of how big or small they're involvement is, or even if they're not at fault at all, case in point Hunt being wracked with guilt even when it's not his fault.
And to make it worse she acknowledges that Hunt warned them, warned her. But that she disregarded it and would of done it no matter what.
And then she has the audicity to say she doesn't regret it. And she thought they were on the same page. ON THE SAME PAGE!!?? Hunt made it clear in hosab that he didn't want to go down this road again, that he didn't want to get involved. YOU just didn't listen Bryce. And yeah Hunt's an adult, he can make his own decisions and he could of said no and not gone. But of course, OF COURSE!! he wasn't going to let Bryce go down that road alone, because he loves her, and doesn't want anything to happen to her, and wants to protect, so of course he would never desert her. But that doesn't mean he wanted to do it!
For Bryce to be that unaware of Hunt's feelings, when he explicitly stated them. For her to be that disconnected from her mate's feelings that she's surprised that he wasn't really on board is kinda unfathomable to me. Just that complete lack of awareness really does make her look quite selfish/self centered.
Anyway sorry, this post is a mess but I just had to vent
And then when Hunt mentions the consequences he and his friends faced, Bryce makes it about her pain. She's hurt that Hunt mentioned that they suffered. And the worst part is, Hunt then regret's it, he regrets saying something that hurts Bryce, because he cares about her and feelings. And she does not consider his feelings to the same degree
It just pisses me off
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Suddenly remembering a family Christmas Eve dinner that I endured had some years ago at a Mexican restaurant, and though I started off the evening hating it and wishing I had the freedom to leave (I was forced to ride with someone else instead of taking my own car), by the time dinner was over I was quite eager to stay for dessert.
I should preface this by saying that I do not have a healthy relationship with my parents (biological or otherwise). They have never treated me well and the holidays were always, always a bad time for me because they would say words of love and then turn around and do things like gaslight or worse.
Anyways, a story of me being petty and taking advantage of a bad situation!
Now, I couldn't tell you the name of the restaurant to save my life. What I can tell you is that it was a fancy Mexican restaurant, the kind with the servers in white button up shirts, black slacks, and black aprons, they brought their fajitas out on a cart still cooking, and they only served certain meats (like cabrito) on an actual, literal spit that they brought to the table and let you carve up there. All the dishes were frightfully expensive, too.
I was not allowed to get anything expensive, no, but everyone else got to order fajitas and margaritas and that delicious goat meat and -
*deep breaths*
Anyways, I was not having a good time. I wasn't able to get anything good, nobody was ordering any fucking queso, and the place was crowded so I couldn't even hear most of my family talking. My step-dad was poking fun at me for being a grump, my mother was trying to tell me to cheer up because I was ruining the night, my grandmother was telling me to think godly thoughts, my aunts were looking at me in concern, my brothers were not getting involved (and honestly looking back I don't blame them), and my Gung Gung was just looking forward to cabrito.
About five minutes after we ordered our main dishes, though, the Mariachi band arrived.
They came in and immediately started playing music. Loud, obnoxious, in-your-face music. The restaurant was already loud, but oh, suddenly it was much, much louder.
My mother groaned and made a disgusted face. "Ugh, Mariachi bands."
"What's wrong with Mariachi bands?" I asked.
"Nothing, I guess," she said, shrugging, but her disgust did not fade. "I just don't like them. I just really, really don't like them."
So I looked at the band with intrigue.
For a while I just watched them go around the room, playing at tables one by one. I assumed, because people were waving them over, that they were playing music in exchange for some money. That assumption was pretty much confirmed when the band got closer to our table and I leaned over and watched as someone handed one of the band members a 20 dollar bill.
Then our server came by to refill our drinks. She noticed that I was watching the band, and as she poured water into my glass she smiled at me.
"Do you want them to play for your table?" she asked me.
I gave her an awkward smile and a shrug in return. "Oh, I don't have a whole lot of money."
"They've already been paid for by the restaurant," the server told me. "All you have to do is get their attention."
"...Wait, really?"
"Really."
I glanced at my mother. She hadn't noticed my conversation with the server at all.
"...Yeah, I would like them to play for our table."
Less than a minute later the band was right next to our table, and right next to me. All of the members of the band were eagerly looking at me, smiling widely. "What would you like us to play?" one of them asked. "Any requests?"
Still, no one else at the table noticed.
"No, play whatever you feel like," I said, smiling back. "And if you can, when you don't have anybody else flagging you down, please come back to this table? I don't have much, but I can afford at least a few dollars in tips."
That got confused expressions on their faces, but they shrugged, said sure, brought their instruments up into positions, and started to play.
The entire table jumped.
My mother turned around in horror, looking at the Mariachi band members as they started loudly playing and singing Feliz Navidad. She had no idea what the hell was going on, but she didn't like it. "Excuse me!" she called to them. "Can you move, please? You're right next to our table!"
"Of course they are," I piped up, surprising my mother. "I called them over here and asked them to play."
"You what?"
"I thought you noticed," I said, playing innocent. "After all, I'm sitting right next to you."
We stayed at the restaurant for another two hours. The Mariachi band came back to our table many, many times as they said they would - by the fifth visit they cottoned on to what my game was, and they stopped accepting my money. Instead, they happily danced around the table and played even louder. The tables next to ours also became aware of what I was doing, and they laughed each time the band came by.
I gleefully sang along to all the songs they played, even if I didn't know the words. My mother wanted me to stop, to be quiet, but I was "finally having fun, mom, didn't you want me to cheer up?" I even got my aunts to join in, and my step-dad and grandmother were too caught up in their drinks and talking to my Gung Gung to notice anything.
My brothers only sit there and laughed, too.
As we finally left, I was grinning and skipping. "I think I love Mariachi bands," I told my mother.
She could only groan.
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