leticia

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I want to know: Am I a good RPer or not? This is only really a question, of course, for people that have really RPed with me - I don't include peripheral involvement in INL, 'cause my characters didn't get Plot there much. Examples of bad or good would be appreciated, if you don't mind.

(Please note; I am not asking for /reassurance/ here. I am suffering from a lack of /perspective/ and /proportion/ and looking for such.)

I don't even know how to say this. I'm typing blind. My puppy... six months old, ALMOST, Rags... got hit by the neighbors car and killed.

It's not like we live on a road. We're off on a little dirt track. They shouldn't have been moving fast enough to kill him. Stupid arrogant bastards who sat there afterwards and said "sorry" in a smarmy little tone that meant "At least we won't have to pay vet bills. And you better hope that fucking dog of yours didn't damage our car."

And he died. He DIED.

I'm ok when our older pets die. They're old, they get sick, they die. It's part of life, it's natural, it's supposed to happen, and I love them and I'm sad and I miss them. But Rags was just a PUPPY. Not even six months old. Puppies aren't supposed to die. They're not supposed to get killed like that.

We don't even live near the road, so that our babies won't get killed and those bastards had to kill him anyhow. I hate them. I HATE THEM I HATE THEM I HATE THEM.

Do they have a mood for this? I'm so torn up inside. I loved this puppy. He was adorable. He was cute. He was sweet and loving. He got under your feet and in your way and into trouble every way he could, but he was always so happy to see you because he loved you so much. He always came when you called because he loved you so much.

...He won't come. I'll call and call and call and he'll never come again. He'll just lie there and get cold. And Dad's digging a hole behind the house. Pet cemetary, you know. We've buried at least a dozen pets in my lifetime. I love them all and I still expect them to get old and die. If my beloved Shadow or Autumn Dawn died tomorrow, I'd cry. But Rags had so much... LIFE. So much activity. So much sheer unbounded cuteness. And he died so... wantonly.

It wasn't even like a predator got him, natural cycle. It's just so wanton, arbitrary, awful.

Ok, I should be fair. They love pets too. They didn't mean to hurt him. They were just being stupid and careless and they probably feel awful about it. They'd probably agree with my anger. I should be fair - they didn't mean to, they're not evil, just STUPID. But it hurts.

We've buried him now. It makes me so mad/sad/unhappy.

I started a very modest diet back on Wednesday or so, just cutting out lunch (cutting it down to a couple pieces of fruit, actually) and limiting myself to a single, if generous, serving at dinner, cutting back on butter and such on my food, you know, just little things. Also been doing a little modest workout, almost entirely upperbody because my legs are fine. So yesterday I was already moodswinging and today I've been so drastic I can barely breathe sometimes. Does anyone else get REALLY moodswingie when they try to diet? I mean, I haven't even COMPLETELY cut out the chocolate, just cut DOWN.