We had a brutal drought in Texas a couple years ago and I had two cats. One of them let me know he had no intention of being the cuddly warm mop I brought him home to be. He intended to be a fierce outdoor night ruler and unreformed murderer of all things tiny and holy that screamed as he killed them in neighboring yards. Ugh. I wouldn't see him for days and then he'd come strutting home with no collar, carrying five layers of dirt, looking extremely self satisfied. Many collars were bought. So I would leave food and water out for him at night. Eating it was sometimes the only acknowledgement he'd give that he owned a human.

Well the food started disappearing. The water bowl would be empty on the other side of the yard. And there'd be funny marks on everything. It took a week or two to realize I had a raccoon. A fat shy ravenous raccoon. I kept placing out tons of water but bringing in the cat food. Because of the drought, foxes were coming into subdivisions to drink out of people's swimming pools. It would drink all the water. Occasionally I'd use the raccoon as a garbage disposal for takeout I'd left too long in the fridge or vegetables that had gone off. It was better than picking up trash it'd dump out of the cans. Much more efficient really.

After a while my raccoon wasn't so evident, and then one night, it came in with a baby. A baby raccoon. My raccoon was a momma! Then there were two more! One bold baby, one shy baby, and one middle child who would steal from the shy one and fight with the bold one. Aghhh! I fell in love. They all got names. Momma was Goldie. And for some reason I suddenly had a lot more half eaten veggies or nearly bad potato soup I needed to get rid of.

Eventually they grew up but not before scaring the bejesus out of my outdoor night ruler cat on the regular. If they were on the other side of the screen door, he'd puff up, then get really tiny, then nearly piss himself, and finally hide for an hour, looking traumatized when he came out again. It was sad but hilarious. Fewer collars were lost to the wilds.

I read up on raccoons and realized I loved my handsy wee mischievous people but I didn't want them to decide they owned me. If they chose to get in my house and tear it up for food because I was away for a few days I'd have no one to thank but myself. Or if one of the babies thought all humans were great. Ugh. Bad. So I never put food out directly in their sight. I randomized it and made it unpredictable. I made sure it was truly scraps, like what I'd really throw away. There frequently was no food for days, but there was always water. Eventually they all learned to dumpster dive like pros and didn't peer at me with their little black eyes and sing songs of chitter chitter chatter anymore. I missed them. Goldie and her cat scaring progeny. I hope they're turning over trashcans somewhere tonight.

Is this Henry VIII. Does anybody know. Didn't he behed a teenage harpist along with his second wife for supposedly shagging her. And wife's brother too. Nice. Yeah I watch too many crap BBC docus. And don't know history. But is this Henry VIII?

That's brilliant differentiation matrix on amends: Enduring relationship? Suck it up and do it. Not in your life and never likely to be again? Tread carefully, probably falls under "except when to do so would cause harm." And I love what YeahJustAlice had to say.

The two best things I learned about amends from the 12s are:

#1 - Words are apologies, actions are amends.

Amends involve the key phrase, "and what do you need me to do to make this different." Then whatever they tell you to do, do it. If it's "Leave me alone," then leave them alone. Because boundaries. If it's, "Yeah actually, I need your help moving next month," show up and move their sofa. If its, "Awww that's sweet, just keep staying sober and not barfing on my carpet," then do the actions needed to embed and maintain sobriety. Because that person actually gives a flip about you. Addicts and co-addicts are all about words and intentions, but generally terrible persons when it comes to 'putting my ass where my mouth is.' Your loved ones know this, believe me. The way you become not that person is to be a different person. Apologies are words, amends are actions. If you don't walk away with marching orders of some kind, you're doing it wrong.

So use that, amends hearers of the world! If your 12stepper doesn't ask, tell them, "yeah yeah thats great, but you know what I need from you? I need you to do This Thing." As long as what you're expressing is reasonable, honest, not manipulative, and legal, they get to do it. Yayyyy!

#2 Ask the question, "and now what have I left out or overlooked." Because we are solipsistic bastards incapable of seeing and assessing clearly our effect on others. Part of that is the subjective nature of the human condition, part if that is the twisting of addiction. Whatever it is you think you're making amends for, the recipient almost definitely has a different list. This isn't about you, it's about them, so you ask the question and you hear them out. This is their turn to vent a bit and agree yeah, you were pretty terrible sometimes and here's how and why. Face it and hear it. Accept their feelings about what happened, and ask, "what can I do to make this different."

Amends hearers, likewise if your 12stepper doesn't ask, tell them anyway. This may be the only chance you get. Use your power for good.

In general, recipients almost never reject an amends, because if it's done right, it recalibrates the power dynamic and returns some justice to them. Fearing rejection for an amends is self involved catastrophizing, typically. Man up, or put your big girl panties on, and change yourselves and your relationships with actions, not words.

I'm not as active in the 12s as I used to be, but these two points are enduring ethical lessons for me I'll take away and use for the rest of my life.

My mom is a great lover of estate jewelry. When I was in high school, she came home with a delicate oblong glass and gold brooch, smaller than a thumb. The pin on the back is fragile and old school. The flat glass front is bordered in black and gold enamel. Inside, pressed under the glass, is the most amazing braid of hair, looped in something like a inventive endless celtic knot. It's two different kinds of hair, a brunette lock and a slightly blonder lock, woven together. It is amazing.

She explained to me what it was and I was horrified, like a proper high schooler. WTF MOM? We don't really know the story. She thinks its a mother's hair with the hair of a child that died. Because childhood mortality. Jesus. But now I love it. Although it's not really wearable. If people ask what it is, the explanation unsettles them.

"Oh this, just some dead people's hair from the 1800's. I know rite? No we're not related to them but somebody was. Hahaha. Isn't it great? Don't touch it."

It's kind of like those poignant b&w daguerrotypes in antique shops. You may take one home, but it feels funny if you hang it on your wall, since they're not actually, you know, *your* ancestors. Just like those photos, it's lost it's story.

Oh my god, that is just
Fuck yassss
That's some tasty immortal revenge tho.
Fierce truth telling ladies in history making my face leak.

Cash means cash means cash. Except when it means writing checks. Which the dealers take to the bank and cash.

But yeah, some folks have the liquidity to walk in and pay $20 grand without losing sleep, and walk away with a free and clear title, no banks, no payments. WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE.

This reminds me so much of Ann Helen Peterson's critique of the "Cool Girl" female in pop culture.

“Be chill and don’t be a downer, act like a dude but look like a supermodel.”

So good: http://www.buzzfeed.com/annehelenpetersen/jennife...

My wonderful, neurotic, crazy, controlling, loving, insufferable, cheerleading mom finally watched Grey Gardens a couple years ago (there are two of these movies you guys).

She *finally* stopped moping and begging for me to move home. I'm 38. And she finally stopped demanding my unqualified approval and 100% rapt interest in harebrained schemes I had trouble following. Briefly. And she generally backed the fuck off. For awhile.

She even went so far as to tell me she got it, she finally understood why I left, why I had to leave, why I couldn't come home, because we would have turned into those ladies. I don't know I've ever known her to be that self aware, ever.

She eventually went back to her antics. But still. That movie had a profound effect on an incredibly self involved, oblivious, egocentric lady with painfully low self esteem. For awhile. God bless her. I have to love her. She's my mom. She loves me fiercely. And she's always in my court.

I can't watch the movie. Either of them. I saw their effects and that was enough. Jesus. Nope. I'm all good.

The solution is to pay employees for unused sick days. Indeed many companies (not enough) do just that.

If the mere existence of paid sick days is an incentive to take them, and it is, then counterbalance with a counter incentive.

You know those 5 sick days you didn't use in the last fiscal year? Well here's a sweet little 1-weeks-extra-pay.

The company would have to pay it anyway if you used it. And lose productivity that day.

Paying out unused sick days is a win win.

This is awesome. I will be using this.

The trick I employed for my used cars was this: a car rental company. I bought an 18 month old Toyota hatchback for $2.5k less than Blue Book. It was spotless, low mileage, and I had a 3 day test drive period.

I previously used the test drive days on another car to deliver it to the dealer for a hard once over. No issues. I just didn't like that car. Did the same thing with this one, also no issues. Liked the fun little car. Bought it. Never even had to take it back to the office.

The whole transaction is done online. They deliver the fresh, beautiful car to a rental location near you. Go inside and the rental guys hand you the keys. Drive away. Call them 3 days later and say "yes." Have preapproved money from your own credit union pay for it (do not take their financing). They do the paperwork and mail you a new license plate. Done!

Most awesome no-haggle used car experience ever. Great price. Good car. No pressure. Easy peasy. Would do it again in a heartbeat.

Maybe there is a way to use this *and* play rental sales offices against each other.