#well theres at least one i know works-

[nil-the-glitch]

genuinely wtf is your dating history??????

A fucking nightmare carousel that's really only improved within the last year or so.

Reader, please note I am 25.

But for those who'd really like the nitty gritty dark details of the past, please grab a warm drink, a cozy blanket, and prepare your jaw and eyebrows with some stretches because you will most undoubtedly find yourself making expressions you have never made before.

This will not be "tea", this will be uranium grade toxic waste.

Now, with all that out of the way...

Lets see. My very first boyfriend was a guy in high-school, in the year below me. Scruffy guy who, as a freshman, somehow already had a full beard, a penchant for wearing bandanas around his neck like a roguish Texas outlaw (he was anything but), and greasy baseball caps. His first move on me was telling me he liked my shirt - some kind of band shirt, I don't remember anymore which it was - while standing in the cafeteria lunch line. I believe he was about half a foot taller than me as well, which probably made me ignore things that I should have paid attention to in favor of having a socially acceptable boyfriend of the socially acceptable height difference.

But I digress.

Shitty BoyFriend (from here on abbreviated as SBF) the first was diagnosed with, what was called at the time, "Asperger's Syndrome". He would frequently use this as a means to excuse hurtful comments, blame a lack of control of his strength on it, and a handful of other things.

He also came in me unprotected. Behind his mothers house. I had to shove a lump of toilet paper soaked in rubbing alcohol up there to avoid getting pregnant, because that was all I had, and then keep a straight face as I made small talk with his mother as the fires of hell itself scoured off the top layers of my hoo-ha with a fervor most men wish they had during oral.

So naturally, I broke this off, because at that point in time I still had some sense about me and hadn't been beaten completely over the head yet by SBF's and SPU's (shitty parental units).

His response to breaking up?

Stalking me from classroom to classroom, regardless of his own schedule, or how far across the building he needed to be, he would be there. This continued for weeks and through multiple confrontations of me telling him to knock it off and focus on his own damn self, until eventually I reported him to school authorities to get their rough equivalent of a restraining order.

Somehow, this is the second least offensive one. Please brace yourselves.

SBF #2 - also tall, also scruffy, I apparently had a type in highschool. Beautiful blue eyes though. SBF #2 was overall a good guy, really. Didn't push for sex, didn't even kiss often, instead gave material gifts (I still miss that thermos with a lid that was made to look like a soda can, I loved that thing and used it every day) and took pictures, that sort of thing.

You may be wondering why SBF#2 is even on here.

Well, dear readers who are no doubt still recovering from the last guy, let me tell you that he made a mistake that could have honestly been fatal - high-school was a rough time for me. I'm clean now, but at that point in time, self harm was a frequent and sometimes highly visible thing for me.

After seeing one such instance, SBF#2 broke up with me, claiming he "couldn't handle it".

Which in retrospect, fair, he's not obligated to fix my or anyone else's mental state for them. But at the time? Just another reason for my younger self to believe she was ugly, worthless, unlovable, etc etc, you probably know the deal having been in high-school once yourself.

Still though, easily the LEAST offensive of my past relationships. Liam, if you're still out there, please know I'm not mad and I totally get it, I was fucking mess and no teenager is properly equipped to handle that shit.

So SBF#3... The last of the high-school dating mishaps. Started off somewhat decent, a gamer guy on the heavier side, AGAIN with the full beards what was WITH me (just kidding I still like hairy people of all genders, rock on you fluffy beasts). An emo this time, unsurprisingly, with combed-over hair and lip piercings to go with it. He was fine, at first, if a little distant - more interest and excitement for eating Taco Bell while playing Forza than for spending time with me, but I was ok with that, because I was now soundly in my "I Can Feel Better About Myself By Fixing Others" phase.

The foibles of this particular relationship often looked like helping him clean his room, reminding him to take his meds when he eventually got some, being a second mother to his younger siblings and also to him himself, attending therapy sessions with him so that he'd actually go to them, gradually becoming an at-home unpaid therapist for him, and even more.

But again, that was fine, because I was living with him after leaving the SPU's house for the very first time! I had to pull some weight, didn't I? Or else I might get sent back!

... Reader, I got sent back. For some reason, SBF#3 was "tired" of me, and "couldn't see things working out anymore".

So I went back to the SBU's, only to find out my old room had been converted into a chicken hatchery. For a few more years, I would sleep on the old hatchery frame, 2-by-4's roughly nailed together and topped with plywood, cushioned only by old couch cushion foam inserts that were crumbling from being in the basement, and a leaky air mattress that popped a flattening seam within the first year and left it lop-sided. Enter: the Online Dating Phase.

This is where things get both Better yet also So Much Worse.

Being back with the SPU's, I was of course bombarded with constant ridicule telling me I'm worthless, lazy, fat (Reader, I was MALNOURISHED and living on SPOONFULLS OF PEANUT BUTTER MIXED WITH SUNFLOWER SEEDS---), that of course I got dumped because no man would ever want me, I would never make a good wife, and to go clean the whole kitchen from top to bottom every day.

So of course, when SBF#4 comes in, I'm enamored. A trans man who's older* than me for once, maybe I won't have to be his parent for him and he'll understand my blossoming struggles with gender!

(* - I was still in my teens, while he was roughly 23 iirc.)

I'd loved this guy so dearly, he was a cosplayer in a fandom I'd really been getting into and even kinned my favorite character! Who wouldn't want to date their blorbo irl?? He gave me cute nicknames and texted me every night and shared his interests with me and-

And I was being groomed. I was routinely exposed to NSFW content when I shouldn't have been, encouraged to dress up as characters from NSFW games to the point he was willing to mail me wigs for free, and CONSTANTLY being bombarded with vents about his """shitty ex friends""" who were """trying to ruin his image""", which eventually escalated to being accused to talking to these ex friends and being a spy for them (I hadn't at the time of the accusation, but the accusation did inspire me to reach out to them. Thank you Max and Louis for being good friends of mine to this day and helping me to recover from All Of That™)

The only good thing that came out of SBF#4, at this point, is knowing the various types of packers that exist, how t-growth works, and a handful of friends who followed me out of that server when I eventually called him out on his shit and took my exit bow.

Now we get to the "blood magic" offender who no doubt prompted this ask in the first place - SBF/GF/NBF#5 (they went through several gender identities and were also a system).

SBF#5 was, as I mentioned in those tags, from the bible belt, and so being another young adult queer, had LOTS of trauma to work through. This was my introduction to them - hearing them venting on a Discord vc, and me being still quite firmly in my "I Can Feel Better About Myself By Fixing Others" phase, I was sending messages in the according text channel, trying to reassure them and give some small comfort. This progressed to them contacting me in my DM's, and beginning a pattern that would be VERY long-standing, of routinely cycling through stages of intense lovey-dovey "I don't know what I'd do without you" brand of affection, to suddenly having bouts of "My Whole World Is On Fire And You're The Only One Who Can Save Me".

I met this system when I was roughly 18 to 19. They were around 22-23, if memory serves correctly. So once more, we have an age gap, though technically not an illegal one this time...

Barely.

Genuinely, I don't know how I began dating this system. I know their host was the first, or at least I think their host was the first - there was so much that happened that little details like that just get lost.

But, throughout dating this system, they very much monopolized my time. It was almost like if I didn't give them enough attention, if I didn't keep dating more and more of their system members, then bad things would start to happen - their host would go missing for a day and show back up in headspace bloody and bleeding, or supposedly "dead*" persecutors would claw their way out of their graves to wreak havoc, or someone I was close to in their system would get severely hurt or even get "killed*".

(* - Please know that in DID proper, alters cannot die. They can go dormant, or fuse with other alters, but alter death is not an actual thing. You of course are allowed to grieve dormancies and fusions, as it does technically cause the partial or even total loss of the person you previously knew, however equating it to death is simply just not correct. However, this being my first introduction to another system at the time, SERIOUSLY messed me up, and to this day I still react to dormancies and fusions as if it were an actual death.)

So, of course, being that this was the pattern, I became VERY focused, though unconsciously at the time, on making this system my priority and subsequently wound up bending to their every whim, at the cost of other GOOD relationships I had.

You see, between SBF#4 and #5, I'd actually become poly with a few other systems. One being my current fiancé who I wouldn't trade for anything, and the other being GPS#1 (Good Partner System).

SBF#5 would often pressure me to accept dating system members of theirs, privately and away from the other systems of course, to the point that GPS#1 said I'd broken poly and was cheating.

ALL of us now wish it had been that simple. The truth was far more fucked up than any of us had known at that time. We're STILL unraveling bits and pieces of the Absolute Fuckery that transpired. It has been YEARS now since we all banished them from our circles.

SBF#5's sins are so numerous that I cannot POSSIBLY go into detail on them, because this post is insanely long, and it would gain likely 5 times that length if I gave you all the details. I would also probably give you all trauma by proxy, if I haven't already.

So, to put it as an impersonal and rather detached list, SBF#5's sins are:

-Manipulation -Lying -Cheating -Grooming of minors -Endangerment of minors -Coercion, specifically around sexual acts -Coercion, also around dating -I cannot stress the manipulation enough -So much fucking manipulation -The blood magic thing -A severe case of Main Character Syndrome -Did I mention the cheating? -And the minors? -They cheated WITH a minor. -They also broke poly for real on multiple occasions. -WITH MY PARTNER SYSTEMS. AND DIDN'T TELL ANY OF US. -Playing all of us like the Devil to a fiddle.

So hands down, SBF#5 is ABSOLUTELY the worst to date. None else compare. They're winning gold medals at the Most Shit Person Alive contest.

Slight honorable mention to SBF#6 who dumped me after one of their system members manipulated me into isolating myself from other members of their system and basically said it was my fault that it happened but like. Honestly after SBF#5 that doesn't even sound that bad in comparison they basically look like an angel against All Of That. Bronze medal if anything at the Shitty People Contest and tbh even that is iffy, since #5 just. Absolutely blows everything else out of the water.

...

BUT! With all those people firmly out of my life, me, my fiance, GPS#1 and the more recent GPS#2 (QPR boogaloo edition), have been all very happy, communicating well, slowly healing from the collective shit that SBF#5 put all of us through, and also we are all VERY ready to pitchforks-and-torches on anyone who even ATTEMPTS to be a second SBF#5. Like genuinely I feel like GPS#2 would maybe even make a pipe bomb about it if that happened, but I love them for it. Vicious short king of chaos who loves their partners very much, good bean. 10/10 would play Minecraft with again. And of course GPS#1 is honestly just?? So strong?? For going through all the work of healing from what SBF#5 did and finding it in themselves to try things again with me without even a trace of fear? I'm in awe, don't know how they do it, I am CONSTANTLY terrified that our shared history will repeat. I'm still doing it scared though. They're worth it. They're all worth it.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

everyone's favorite menace to society

[bacchuschucklefuck]

Riz has counted four casseroles this week alone. Five, if one goes by the method of cooking, but Yelen's scary when she's crossed, and calling her burek by its proper name is important to her, so Riz does her the courtesy and doesn't include it in his mental tally.

He holds the tupperware over his head to keep it out if the way as he takes careful steps over the piles of notes in his path. The dockman case just closed, relevant documentations handed over to relevant personnels, evidences dealt with as needed; all he has lying around now is just record of the process and traces of himself thinking through it. Unsurprisingly they still haven't invented a surface more convenient for people under five feet who like to pace to put pieces of paper on than the ground.

Actual records go into the case folder with the other documents. Anything else with at least one side still blank is going to the school kids in the block - they chew through an astounding amount of paper just learning arithmetic. The rest is for the recycling basket.

Later. It's his mandated lunch break right now.

Riz sits down in front of the corner file cabinet. In an office often overrun with papers and strings and sometimes even thumbtacks, he's never really managed to clutter up this exact square of surface like every other ones. Ever since the bottom drawer rattled for no discernible reason a day long past, his eyes have always just kinda decided to slide across the space without acknowledging it.

It's years out, now. Riz doesn't know why he thought it such a big deal anymore, back then. He wasn't scared, he doesn't think. Not anymore. Maybe just uncomfortable with the idea that certain things persist despite all efforts to change.

He opens the tupperware. Dame Carabelle's experiment greets him with enough spice in the aroma alone to knock out a small mammal. When he chopped the vegetables for this casserole he couldn't really imagine the eventual heft of it, evident even through just these few ladles' worth, maybe weighing heavier for being still warm. His folk eat more through the smell and the textures and the aftertastes than the taste itself. His folk's meal is really the cooking rather than the eating. The eating is the meal's end.

"Hey," he tells the file cabinet's bottom drawer. "Um."

It's the anniversary. Riz doesn't know the exact date of his dad's death; nobody currently alive does. He and Mom both use the date of the funeral, though as he moved out to Bastion and then got more directly involved with Interplanar he hasn't really been going to Dad's grave as much. Doesn't seem like very efficient use of his time, catching a train or borrowing a car or spending a whole spell slot on going somewhere he knows Dad isn't at. They're sorta coworkers now. They talk on and off every other week between missions. When he goes now, it's just to clean up the place, keeping the landmark tidy and respectable.

Without that work to mark the date he doesn't really know what it serves anymore. But he still remembers it. Still takes note, absently or not, when it comes around.

There's not really a good way to tell the drawer that. Riz looks for another way to start the... conversation, hopefully. The question at play, he'd guess, is why he's doing this. He's been pretty content ignoring all the rattlings and the knocks from inside and the times it sits slightly ajar without him ever opening it himself; hell, he still uses the three drawers on top of it. Space is fucking precious in Bastion.

Precious enough to finally fix this damn drawer so he gets his turn to use it? Riz asks himself. Is that what we're getting to? Then he dismisses the thought - he didn't manage to fix it the times he actually tried, let alone-- now. When he doesn't really care that much to.

That's probably a good place to start. "'s fine if you keep being in there, turns out," Riz says.

The lunch hours are quiet in the block, sleepy and bright with the brief window of sunlight that manages to break through roof overhangs and extended balconies and laundry lines and climbing vines. Riz's work isn't loud here (the loud parts happen away from his office, if everything goes right), but the fragment of early summer heat reflected in the steady warmth his meal still carries compels him to lower his voice even more. It makes the words feel intimate, in a way he's never been familiar with - if he says something he just says it. He doesn't whisper. If he gives his friends something, he gives it open-palm. He's found out, along the way, that people usually don't think of rituals and courtesies the way he does.

Small voice for a diminished monster. "You know why I think so?" Riz asks. "Because almost two decades ago you kidnapped me and almost killed me, and now you rattle a drawer in my office."

It doesn't sound as much like a taunt as Riz wanted it to; the drawer has made a lot of noises again this morning when he checked the calendar, and he was definitely annoyed at it. Now, though, facing it like this after cooking the whole morning with more grandparents and peers from the block than he can count on both hands to cater for a tenant union meeting, he thinks the annoyance has morphed. Changed shape.

It has the shades of something like pity. Riz is not prone to pity, and especially not at these kinda matters. It's slightly maddening that he coheres perfectly outside of this one spot. That he commands his spaces, except for a drawer.

He puts the tupperware onto the floor between himself and the cabinet. "I know we're aware it's the anniversary," he says at the drawer. "You do this every year. You make a ruckus every time I decide to go do my job instead of mooching off my friends' aircon, and every time I get an invitation to some stupid social thing I want to turn down, and every time one of the old people tries to introduce me to a child or a nibling, because being a bachelor over thirty is weird," he pinches the bridge of his nose. "I have three fucking jobs. I love doing my fucking jobs. I'm forcing funds into infrastructures. You're never leaving, are you."

The drawer vibrates lightly. It's a very, very mild acknowledgement, considering the history of reactions Riz has gotten from this thing. Riz thinks it's emanating joyous agreement, or satisfaction.

It only sharpens the pity. Riz doesn't like that, but it's how it is. That's, ultimately, the lesson he's been taught over and over and over again, just by existing as himself, turned every which way by space after space that don't see him eye-to-eye: it's not like he'd quit living over any of it. It's not like any of it can sand off these fundamental pieces of him.

He's outgrown a lot of things, he's found out. Again, and again, and again. A childhood home, a yearly trip, a monster.

"'s probably scary for you, huh?" He asks. "Because I left."

He thinks he hears joints creak that sound like you did. Probably the way a scorned lover would say it, in a movie or a yellowback. He has no more connection to the idea than he did as a kid. Less, because it doesn't even scare him.

"That's what it is, right? That it's the anniversary, and I'll never be like Dad." He raises a knee from the floor, pulls it back closer to him. Slings an arm over it. "You love to remind me. The thing is, Dad also left. He loved Mom and he loved me, and none of us wanted it to happen, but it still did. Because love does fuckall to make anyone stay on its own."

He's long past being bitter about it. It's just the facts. Once upon a time he looked into the future and the specter of his friends' happily-ever-after casted lightless, fathomless shadow over him. Love, marriage, that kind of devotion, to a fifteen-year-old with more solved cases than friends seemed so eternal. Final.

But you can only watch your friends build up apps' worth of jilted lovers for so long before getting over it.

"You know what I learned?" Riz tells the drawer. "Love doesn't make anyone stay. Project management does."

He stands up, and picks up the tupperware of Dame Carabelle's casserole, that he helped make, that he helped share with a block's worth of neighbors and members of a community he's at home with, and goes sit at his desk to eat. "Last chance to get any," he drops an offer over his shoulder as he walks away.

He doesn't eat all of his share in one go. What he's spared he leaves on the desk when going outside for a smoke break. Baron looks the exact same as when he saw them last, when he catches a glimpse; they haven't grown at all. They aren't there when he comes back inside, but the leftover has gone days-old cold, like someone's sucked the future out of it.

[puppyeared]

learning abt friendship decay and "not reaching out to your friends for months at a time unprompted is not neurotypical behaviour" has me feeling a certain way

[skitskatdacat63]

Fernando Alonso & His Relationship With Cards

I'm sure we're all familar with the cards on the back of Fernando's Vegas GP helmet by now, but did you know his relationship with cards goes a lot deeper?

I. Magic Tricks

You've probably seen or heard someone at least mention Fernando's propensity for card tricks. As far as I can tell he was doing them(publically) as far back as 2003 all the way to as recently as 2018. Even once performing a card trick, with a condom and a teddy bear(!??!?!??!!), in front of Valentino Rossi who said "How was that possible?"(x)

But how did this start? According to James Allen, "Fernando admits to having been heavily influenced by his grandfather, a mercurial figure, who taught him magic and card tricks, still one of his passions away from the race track."(x) And I'm not sure the validity of this one, because I couldn't find an actual source, but apparently he once said: "My parents are responsible for the two things I like doing most - driving and magic tricks. They bought me my first go-kart and a magician's kit."

In several interviews he described it as his hobby off track, and that he loved learning new tricks and surprising others in the garage with them! So clearly cards are pretty important to him both as a hobby but also to who he is as a person since they've been with him just as long as racing has.

II. Card Symbolism in His Helmets

This is the reason I originally made this post, but I thought I should also explain the origins of his card fascination first. As I said, we probably all remember the cards on the back of his helmet in Vegas, but did you know that wasn't the first time he had cards on the back of his helmet?

From 2008-2013, he used to have a pair of cards on the back of his helmets. The symbolisms of the cards themselves as well as the evolution of their design is really fascinating to me! Even more so with the recent development of the card choice in 2023.

Fernando said he wanted to reference his two titles in some way on the back of his helmet and after his friend sent him several ideas, he decided on having two cards(an ace of clubs and an ace of hearts, sometimes pictured with 05 and 06 on them as well), saying: "I picked the cloverleaf [the ace of clubs - Ed] to give me luck, but the only pity is that it doesn't have four leaves!"(X)

2008.

Here's the very first appearance of the cards! They're displayed flat, with the 05 and 06 clearly visible

2009.

Very similar to 2008, but with a slightly different design, and they're maybe a bit more straight with less shadow?

2010.

This is the first major change! I was sad they didn't have the years on them anymore, but then I realized they're sparkly to match with his signature lightning bolts on the top of the helmet!!

2011.

Honestly I'm still somewhat unsure if this is the actual 2011 helmet? It's pretty difficult to find clear photos of the back of helmets from older seasons. It's easiest to find them on replica sites or auction sites so I'm not 100%? But anyways, I like that this has the championship years on the underside of the cards

2012.

This is when I started getting weirdly emotional about the helmets. Do you see how they've progressed from being a centerpoint to being curled up and sad at the bottom of the helmet? Not listing the year anymore??

2013.

Same thoughts as 2012. And after this season, they cease to exist (just like his ferrari chair in the garage, WOAH CALLBACK), until cards make a reeappearance in his Vegas helmet, albeit in a different form

2013 Monaco(Honorable Mention):

For some reason 2013 helmets were easier to find proper pictures of, so I happened to witness this absolute beauty. The creativity of this helmet genuinely blows me away??? Wanting to keep the card motif, but making sure to incorporate it into the rest of the puzzle piece design?? Mwah! There was another special 2013 helmet but they didn't change the cards at all so I really applaud this one

2023 Las Vegas(The Return of The King):

The magnificent return! But look! The cards are different cards! Instead of being two aces, it's now an ace of hearts, a four of hearts(his driver number of course!) and, the, now iconic, representation of himself as a Joker. I literally could not believe my eyes when this helmet was released and I saw the Joker card, what a fucking silly old man....I really wonder if he felt nostalgic having cards on his helmet again or if he didn't think about it all and was just like, "ah cards because Vegas!!!"

III. Why Does This Matter?

*The rest of the post was factual, this is moreso my personal thoughts on the symbolism of the cards/designs

This post spawned from me recently watching the 2010 Bahrain gp and noticing "hey wait a minute...are those CARDS ON THE BACK OF HIS HELMET!?" It's a really tiny detail that's unfortunately covered up by the HANS device pretty much whenever he's wearing the helmet, so it's really difficult to spot! But I became fascinated with the fact that he had cards on his helmet before that recent helmet, and now here we are!

There's something to me about how the design of the cards evolves over the course of six seasons from the cards being front and center to being smaller, more folded up and closer to the bottom of the helmet. As I said, the 2012-2013 ones genuinely made me depressed because it feels, symbolically, like his hopes for getting another Ace are becoming more and more unlikely and falling away until they eventually fall falt and fade away entirely after 2013 and disappear for basically a decade.

But when they return? They're not the same cards! Instead of representing Fernando's championships, they now represent him as a person, displaying his driver number and his persona of being a Joker!! Though I do think it's interesting he happened to keep the Ace of Hearts, even though he talked more about the Ace of Clubs before. I'm not sure it's actually this deep in reality, but I like to think that it's him not letting his championships(and the lack thereof) define him, but rather letting who he is as a person shine and be the centerpoint instead! But on a sadder note, as @suzuki-ecstar said to me, maybe the Aces aren't there anymore because he's lost all hope for a chance at a third Ace entirely :(

[marcmorrigan]

@fenglianweek day 6: memories/growing up

the best thing thats ever been mine

[wildstar25]

What physical part(s) of Arsay does her partners find the most attractive! Is it the same for all partners or does it differ between them?

(also optional bonus ask of what part(s) of/about Arsay generally do they love the most, physical or not!)

Meanwhile, if you were to ask the same of Arsay:

[st4rstudent]

I forgot to share this earlier whoops but here's the posters and papers on the wall!

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

i like coming across a blog where someone is like hardcore blogging abt Something and theyre like a couple of layers of meta and headcanons and discussion into this and then my task is to figure out what the Thing is

[francy-sketches]

I'm gonna have to work on my final project non stop for like a month straight bc I procrastinated on it too much fuck my stupid baka life

[thedrotter]

Re:Kinder Fun fact time!! Did you know? 😊

Yuuichi's theme song (the one that often accompanies his entrances with "Vamos Cantar!"), 新しい夏のナナ, is not in any latin language such as Spanish or Portuguese, despite its lyrics sounding as such. It's actually in Hanamogera, which to put it simply is nonsense speech based on japanese syllables. So the song's lyrics are essentially gibberish meant to imitate the sound of latin music! 😊

It is listed as such in the source site for the song, oo39.com, where the song can be found as "YS068" in the hanamogera category.

Additional fun fact! The song can also be found in Spotify as Vien Nana by Oo39.com themselves alongside a few other select songs from the site. So you can properly enjoy the song on the platform without having to import it from your local files.

Those are the fun Re:Kinder related fun facts for today... Use them to entertain your friends at parties ! ☺️

[sonknuxadow]

they werent lying that knuckles series barely has knuckles in it

[puppyeared]

Jitterbug

[orcelito]

As for my post this morning. If anyone was worried. Me personally I'm okay (I guess) but my dad's in the hospital and things r still very up in the air. So.

[bmpmp3]

i was watching a music video for a japanese song and it had built in youtube english captions so i went to turn those on but then i saw that there was like an option for "English" and then a second option for "English (Canada)" and i realized in a few seconds it was just a workaround to having two sets of english captions, one with colour changes in the lettering and one without for accessibility (the canada one was the non-fancy lettering) but for a moment i was living in a world where they were making dedicated canadian english translations for things..... measuring temperature in celsius and height in feet...... paying with loonies and toonies... going to the WASHROOM