Whether I find something funny and well-composed has nothing to do with the subject matter, nor whether I personally agree with every or even any statement as written. These are two entirely separate issues.

But, fascinatingly, for this last comment of yours I did get a notification.

But why do you (always) stop receiving notifications about comments to all posts? I think, this would be a quite practical feature

I posted the Blue Plate because (a) I find it funny and well-composed, and (b) it happens to be the only restaurant writeup I ever got, so there’s nothing else I
could have posted in this particular context.
Funny … in a slightly bizarre way, yes … This reviewer had a funny way to describe you as a blatant server error 500.

And – “well-composed” :p yes, and the blue contrasts extremely pleasantly with all the pink slips.

(“Blue Plate” is the name of this eatery?)

Yes, maybe you’re a squirrel in flesh and blood. Who knows.

I posted the Blue Plate because (a) I find it funny and well-composed, and (b) it happens to be the only restaurant writeup I ever got, so there’s nothing else I could have posted in this particular context. It’s not like I had dozens of different reviews to choose from and picked that one to post.

So it seems you posted this Blue Plate for presenting just a quite extreme oversubscription (Überzeichnung? / caricature) of your (server’s) personality / role.

And if I were so averse to communicating with people, then who, for instance, might I desire to communicate with via this blog? The squirrels in Central Park?
Virtual communication via a blog in safe distance is quite different from the communication with a human in flesh and blood. Who knows, mayhaps I *am* a squirrel?

(Pretending has never been my strong suit.)
(This is a very strong characteristic of yours that muchly distinguishes you, in a good way.)

And since there’s only one thing—call me stubborn—that I can imagine dedicating my life to, the prospect of having to do anything else long-term to pay the bills doesn’t exactly make me want to jump through hoops with excitement (i.e., it causes me to rehearse Hamlet’s “To Be or Not To Be” soliloquy over and over in my head), even though there are many other things that I like very much; books, plants, animals, and physics most certainly among them.

“To sleep, perchance to dream –
ay, there’s the rub.”

(was mulling over and over for a good reply – did not find it right now, though.)

//

(Btw, first time I got an email notification about a new comment.)

And if I were so averse to communicating with people, then who, for instance, might I desire to communicate with via this blog? The squirrels in Central Park?

True, I don’t exactly exude cheerful exuberance when I’m feeling forced—on account of what I refer to as my own lack of ingenuity—to do stuff (especially for financial reasons) that I don’t feel passionate about in a sense that I wouldn’t want to dedicate my life to that particular activity.

Since there’s only one thing I can imagine dedicating my life to, having to do anything else to pay the bills sucks, even though there are many other things that I like very much; books, plants, animals, and physics most certainly among them.

For starters, I feel sorry about what I did write above. I’ve been realizing that I looked at this topic here just from my personal perspective (what unfortunately does happen so easily) and thought without questioning, “advices” one once gave me in a “similiar” situation must be of any use for you as well (You know, that I was looking for ages till I found an acceptable job. This really excruciating experiences (but not the same you are going through) I mixed with my own “medical conditions” to a quite unpalatable soup for you to swallow.)

I know now I was terribly mistaken. The “similiarity” of this situation does not exist at all, or not in the sense, I considered it way back. I did not know it better.

My today’s perspective is different, though, otherwise combined :

One of the first impressive things I read on your blog was the Blue Plate. Its garishly highlighted characterization of the “inhospitable”, “anti-social” and unhappy waiter I never forgot.

I remember that you described yourself one or two times as not being a teamplayer. And, as far I’ve been experiencing you so far, I fancy that this self-perception may be quite accurate.

You deeply dislike or even detest to work and communicate with people (in a team or with clients)? => “I couldn’t smile, I couldn’t speak and I couldn’t relax – much like our waiter” => Is this the actual strait-jacket (nowadays most unacademic jobs require – at least due to the job-ads, the reality is often different – abilities to work in a team) – or just based on the server-function?

Just assuming I scratch a point, could you maybe imagine then a job which has to do with animals or plants?
I still have quite strong memories how unusually tenderly you’ve written about the baby elk and its mother.

F.i., in a zoo?
Or in a park, a botanic garden?
Or in an (used) bookstore?

Or you study for a physics PhD.

And yes, I do accept whatever comes or not comes from you.

i think, i have mistaken (weren’t it 19 per post and not per reply?) – this evening, when i will have more time, i’m gonna recheck and post some intelligent wisdoms – so we know for sure how many number of comments per post disqus will accept.

agreed?

19 comments per reply are possible,
the last one with a width of 3 resp. 4 letters.

bye

let’s try:

Far far away, behind the word mountains, far from the countries Vokalia and Consonantia, there live the blind texts. Separated they live in Bookmarksgrove right at the coast of the Semantics, a large language ocean. A small river named Duden flows by their place and supplies it with the necessary regelialia. It is a paradisematic country, in which roasted parts of sentences fly into your mouth. Even the all-powerful Pointing has no control about the blind texts it is an almost unorthographic life One day however a small line of blind text by the name of Lorem Ipsum decided to leave for the far World of Grammar. The Big Oxmox advised her not to do so, because there were thousands of bad