You know, like when The Bradys went to Hawaii and Peter found the tiki at the building site, that made the incidental music guy go crazy with the 'mystical tiki'-sounding piccolo trills?
I'm leaving on a jetplane tomorrow night. Me, Steve and Jubjub∞. We are going to plonk down on a little beach with a little comfy bure (hut) and just..... well I dunno what Steve plans to do, but I wouldn't mind sleeping. For all eternity. And we might chuck in some snorkelling and some island hopping in between. I got my Women's Weekly last week (said in true strine Aussie fashion) and haven't opened it yet, so she's a-comin' with me. I love how at night, Steve is reading the latest on the theory of .... something, and there I am flicking through a Woman's Day. I have to dumb myself down, you see (If only you knew how 'kidding' I was).
The truth is, I am actually going to be doing whatever it takes to keep my mind off the 7 week ultrasound I'll be having the day after we get back. No amount of promising betas can really prove whether this kid is healthy or not. In fact, of course, not even an early ultrasound can determine it definitively. I do believe it's extremely timely that we will be forced to do nothing but spend time with each other on an island that is roughly 1.5km long (and about as wide), given that I really need to concentrate on grounding this little thing.
A very interesting and strange experience occurred to me yesterday whilst in the middle of the Light Ray/Colour workshop I was attending. I came over all cold, was getting chills, and couldn't warm my feet. I ended up with them on a hot water bottle and they were still icy cold. It was only after I got up on the massage table to lay prostrate (with my button undone, oh my, what was I thinking wearing my jeans? I've already popped out like no one's business) that it started settling down, and I started to warm up. I don't like being shivery cold when pregnant, it just feels bad/unhealthy. What was actually happening was a bit of grounding work - I didn't know this until later, after I got up and it was explained to me. While I was lying there, though, I saw her. Our daughter. Not the pushy one (love ya, Ellabubble)! Well... let's just say, I'll be surprised if this is not a girl. A pleasant surprise, of course. No, I just got a glimpse of Steve holding a little girl of 8 months or so and she had unruly hair (heh, must be my kid) and was wearing thick white tights on fat stumpy legs and a dark red tunic with a white skivvy. Oh, how very 70's of me. But how CUTE!!! And he was holding her like she was sitting in a chair. It was all very marvellous. And a huge wave of happiness came over me, over and over. I haven't had that feeling for SO long. I think it's called 'joy'.... true happiness, even.
So I'll be continuing to try and connect with this little one and see where it's 'at'. Strange, I think I was spoiled with Ella. I had such close (and hilarious) contact with her, I could just tune in and there she always was. The rest have always been so hesitate to step forward. And that's what worries me a little if I don't "hear from anyone". So I just have to make myself open, instead of distracting myself with things like work and tv and EB and the rest. I'm not giving anyone a chance to inch their way into my awareness really - it's not that I don't want to, gawd no, I'm just in a habit of filling up my days with crap. And this rest will force me to stop and listen. I'm really looking forward to doing nothing.
Anyway. Enough about me. What do you think about me? ....ahhhh gotta love Beaches. Good old Bette Midler.
Be good while I'm gone. I'll be back in a week. Can you water the plants for me? And feed the fish? Don't worry if the snails get to the basil. I've given up and have acceded it is now a sacrificial offering to the snail daevas. Greedy bastards.
Oh. And just so as you can picture us? Doing all this reading and walking and thinking and eating.... here's where we'll be if anybody wants us:
The Island of Leisure and no tikis
Of course, don't let the sunny weather in the photos on that website fool you. We have checked the forecast and, starting today, we are in for a treat of heavy rain and, oh! my favourite!, thunderstorms by the weekend.... I HATE FUCKING THUNDERSTORMS! So, I'll be a nervous wreck on this idyllic island, ducking under the bed and lighting mosquito coils and cranking up the air conditioner because don't think the rain is fooling anyone - I know it's going to be so steamy, I'll come back 5kg lighter (hey, that'd be handy!) because of the sauna-like effect of the atmosphere. There may be storms moving through but the temp isn't forecast to drop below 30ยบ..... I'm getting claustrophobic just thinking about it...... better pack the Chess and the Scrabble (we can't take Canasta, it is the most threat-of-divorce-inducing game I have ever played with Steve. It's my fault, not his, DAMN now he'll read this and know I admit fault at becoming Mt Vesuvius when he breaks the meld first!!!)
∞ Anyone who watches The Simpsons as diligently as us will know why it was hysterically funny to me that, when I told Steve I was going to name this bubba Jubjub for however long its journey with us lasts, he asked me if I was going to be sticking my head in the vegie crisper..... (Patty - or is it Selma? - has an iguana called Jubjub and she coos to it in that gravelly voice, "Ohhh, Jubjub... mommeee's heeerre")
Monday, November 28, 2005
Thursday, November 24, 2005
Doctor's orders
Doctor Steve, that is.
This morning on our walk, we were discussing why my boozies might have decided to start uncontrollably increasing already. And how alarmed I am that I've just hit 5 weeks so where the hell will I put them in 30 weeks time??! Crikey moses.
We came to the conclusion that, because I have been losing the pregnancies at around 6 weeks, and Dr Eversodreamy (the Ob) told me last week that 'spontaneous' miscarriages actually begin several days or even weeks before you start to bleed, I must be only just pregnant when we find out. That something in the embryo's genetic information is either just SO stuffed up that it hasn't got all the information it needs to grown any further and doesn't implant properly, or that my blood clotting factor has possibly prevented a few of these from implanting properly (or a combination of both these things). Which is why, most of the time, my body doesn't change in those first 6-ish weeks. Last year, with the bub in November that lasted for 9 weeks, I bloated up like a blow fish very early on. Like I am now. Attractive! But it stayed in, is my point.
So. What did Dr Steve order? He ordered me to sing to this baby every day to make its heart start soon. And keep going. His prescription was, specifically, "I want you to sing Motley Crue"
*cue a worried look from me*
"Yes, I want you to sing Kickstart My Heart. Every day. And make particular mention of the part that goes 'hope it never stops'."
Ok, yeah, Dr Steve. Will do! *donning bandanna*
*quietly* OH! *cringeing* YEAH! *smashing air guitar* Kickstart my heart hope it never stops.......
This morning on our walk, we were discussing why my boozies might have decided to start uncontrollably increasing already. And how alarmed I am that I've just hit 5 weeks so where the hell will I put them in 30 weeks time??! Crikey moses.
We came to the conclusion that, because I have been losing the pregnancies at around 6 weeks, and Dr Eversodreamy (the Ob) told me last week that 'spontaneous' miscarriages actually begin several days or even weeks before you start to bleed, I must be only just pregnant when we find out. That something in the embryo's genetic information is either just SO stuffed up that it hasn't got all the information it needs to grown any further and doesn't implant properly, or that my blood clotting factor has possibly prevented a few of these from implanting properly (or a combination of both these things). Which is why, most of the time, my body doesn't change in those first 6-ish weeks. Last year, with the bub in November that lasted for 9 weeks, I bloated up like a blow fish very early on. Like I am now. Attractive! But it stayed in, is my point.
So. What did Dr Steve order? He ordered me to sing to this baby every day to make its heart start soon. And keep going. His prescription was, specifically, "I want you to sing Motley Crue"
*cue a worried look from me*
"Yes, I want you to sing Kickstart My Heart. Every day. And make particular mention of the part that goes 'hope it never stops'."
Ok, yeah, Dr Steve. Will do! *donning bandanna*
*quietly* OH! *cringeing* YEAH! *smashing air guitar* Kickstart my heart hope it never stops.......
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
Saturday, November 19, 2005
The Lowdown on Twisties: Balanced Translocations 101
I almost don't want to do this. It entertains an awareness of what we may be faced with that I don't want to confront again (we went through this 3 years ago when we first found out about Steve's balanced translocation and it was horrifying to research, to say the least - we waited just two more pregnancies before we got Ella, though, so it kind of softened the information we found).
Steve has a non-Robertsonian balanced translocation of chromosomes 11 & 22, with the breaks on the q arm at point 23 on chromosome 11 and point 11 on chromosome 22. You'll see it like this - t(11:22)(q23; q11) - in medical terms. Not only are the two chromosomes pertinent, but where they actually break (and have swapped with each other) are also important. This translocation is the most common in humans. The breaks at those two points (q23;q11) are also the most common. Oh, so what the geneticist was trying to say to us was (say it with me Python fans), "'e's not an individual, 'e's a very norty boy!" The carrier (that'd be me husband) is normal, often not aware of their uniqueness until they try to have offspring or give birth to an unbalanced baby.
Have I lost about half my readers here? I'm so sorry, but some of you were asking...
Anyway, what happens is this (and it's sooo hard without diagrams):
Your chromosomes, when lengthened out, are shaped like an X - there is a long arm (p) and a short arm (q). Each arm contains vital genetic information. Each of these genes, spaced along each arm (and there are thousands upon thousands of genes), determines certain patterns or outcomes. For instance, there's genes for eye colour, there are about 100 that relate to the makeup of the heart and how it's going to form, there are genes for every single thing that make up YOU. That's why we're all so unique. Awww. Back on the chromosomes themselves, the lower the chromosome number, the larger the physical chromosome is. So, chromosome 1 is one of the largest in size, while chromosome 23 is a little itty bitty thing. The larger the chromosome with a 'problem', the greater you could expect the defect. In other words, a chrom 2:7 translocation or similar would have far more life threatening defects. Er.... not that our list isn't impressive.
Now, in two of these chromosomes, in someone with a translocation, a break has occurred. Imagine two sets of Twisties side by side (oh I'm so brilliant, they look exactly like Twisties in the pictures I've seen!), each set containing one big Twistie and one slightly less so. One set (chromosome 11) is a cheese Twistie and the other (22) is a chicken Twistie. Still with me?
Now.... snap off the bottom 5mm from the long arm of the chicken and the long arm of the cheese Twistie. Then tack the resulting piece of the chicken Twistie onto the bottom of the cheese Twistie (where its piece has broken off). Do the same in reverse: put the broken off piece of the cheese one onto the chicken Twistie's long arm.
And what you get is a balanced translocation. Ta-da! Now you have a little piece of cheese (11) on the chicken Twistie (chromosome 22) and vice versa. This Twistie arrangement is all good for Steve; he still gets his two full Twisties and doesn't miss out on a thing. Medically speaking, he has no missing genetic information and is (obviously) "compatible with life".... even though sometimes I think he might be happier if we would all just piss off so he could freely play Playstation and conduct endless scientific experiments like the geeks on Myth Busters. Is there a difference between a nerd and a geek, by the way? I've always wondered.
Let's not forget, as well, that we all carry a pair of every chromosome. So Steve has one perfect cheese Twistie (chromosome 11) and one with a piece of chicken Twistie (22) tacked on. That one also is missing a little part of the cheese end. The same for his chicken one (chromosome 22) - one is perfect, all chicken, and the other contains a piece of cheese Twistie (11), and is missing a bit of chicken. Now he only needs to pass on ONE of each of his 23 chromosomes, and so do I, to make up a full set of 23 and a resulting bundle of joy. If he passes on his perfect chicken and perfect cheese Twistie, the result is Ella! If he passes on both the cheese and the chicken with the swapped pieces, the result is still fine - because it's balanced, like him! The pieces are all there, they're just swapped around (although that child, boy or girl, would have reproductive issewes like we're having when it comes time).
SO. Back to the translocation. The break points on Steve's two chromosomes at q23 and q11 are broken through particular genetic information. Still not lost, mind, otherwise Steve would not be *cough* normal.
But.... here's where it gets tricky *cue the dramatic minor key music*
Most of those little spermies (over 75% to be exact), each of which correctly contain just one of each of chromosomes 1-23, are carrying (for example) the chicken Twistie with the cheese piece tacked on and a perfect cheese Twistie (normal 11). This means, the missing chicken piece (22) is nowhere to be found. As well as that, there's too much cheese! That small section of genetic information is repeated, because not only is it on the normal cheese Twistie, it's repeated on the tacked-on bit on the chicken Twistie. There are various combinations that I won't baffle you with (there are about 18 variations, all told, which are specific to Steve and I.... they found that out doing our genetic mapping before we started the IVF), but basically out of those possible 18 we have about 3 or 4 which would result in a normal, you-beaut 'model'.
Anything else results in, thankfully I really do have to say, miscarriage. The chances of us actually carrying a chromosomally imbalanced (with too much chicken, not enough cheese, or missing chicken, you catch my drift) to term, whereby it hasn't stopped itself because there is just not the correct information for it to live and continue, is less than 3%. So there is an evolutionary trapdoor, if you will. I'm just the silly beggar who's having to do the incubating before it can be determined if this one's a goer. That's the only bad part really. I'd rather have many miscarriages and a perfect kid than wish for anyone, no matter how severely disabled, to make it here. Now before any pro-lifers or sensitives to disability snub their noses at me, let me give you the short list of defects our children are faced with if they don't spontaneously combust before we meet them (and they contain an imbalance):
Information from - Chromosome 22 Central:
"There are a large variety of abnormalities in t(11;22) cases. Cleft palate, heart defects, mental and physical delays, ear abnormalities, hearing loss, small chins, undescended testes (known as criptorchidism), microcephaly, dislocated hips, long philtrums, broad nose, kidney abnormalities, and Imperforate anus are among the most common findings. Atrial septum defects, extreme muscle weakness, labial abnormalities, craniofacial dysmorphism..... unmanagable mental retardation."
Now, I don't know what the hell criptorchidism is, but I ain't too keen to find out. That's some scary, scary shit. And this list isn't even exhaustive. This is just what they've studied from known cases, people who have allowed the examinations.
I think I'm lost. I hope it's prego brain... prego brain caused by a N-O-R-M-A-L embryo deep in the folds of my cushy womb room. And if it's got too much of one Twistie and not enough of the other, well, I love it, will always love it and count it as one of our lost little soldiers..... but it needs to leave. A (short, because they don't live to ripe old ages most of these kids) lifetime of disability and pain is not worth it just to satiate some need we have in us. Nup. I can wait for the right one. Last year, we thought we had the 'right one' again - it didn't fall out in the first 9 weeks, all appeared well. I had the usual morning sickness, etc.... and at my first scan, discovered we had a severely behind, slow heartbeating, little bubba. After a d & c, the pathology reports came back that she had too much chromosome 22 information (in fact, there were 3 full #22's! Steve had given her not one, but two... another one snuck in, so a true trisomy, like with Downs Syndrome on chromosome 23), and not nearly enough #11. And we made it to 9.5 weeks without even knowing. There are no precursors, no telling in advance, unless it aborts itself, if any embryo that implants is normal or imbalanced.
Now can you see why I can't get excited for weeks yet? And why I can wait through countless miscarriages, despite the blinding unfairness of it all (I'd rather a spontaneous abortion (ugh, ugly term) than have to extract a live bub)? And why we, Steve and I, have good grace about our losses? It's called treading water, biding our time. There's nothing more we can do.
Thank you and please read up to page 581 in your text before the next lecture. If I haven't lost anyone and you understand all this, you've passed the lesson.
Steve has a non-Robertsonian balanced translocation of chromosomes 11 & 22, with the breaks on the q arm at point 23 on chromosome 11 and point 11 on chromosome 22. You'll see it like this - t(11:22)(q23; q11) - in medical terms. Not only are the two chromosomes pertinent, but where they actually break (and have swapped with each other) are also important. This translocation is the most common in humans. The breaks at those two points (q23;q11) are also the most common. Oh, so what the geneticist was trying to say to us was (say it with me Python fans), "'e's not an individual, 'e's a very norty boy!" The carrier (that'd be me husband) is normal, often not aware of their uniqueness until they try to have offspring or give birth to an unbalanced baby.
Have I lost about half my readers here? I'm so sorry, but some of you were asking...
Anyway, what happens is this (and it's sooo hard without diagrams):
Your chromosomes, when lengthened out, are shaped like an X - there is a long arm (p) and a short arm (q). Each arm contains vital genetic information. Each of these genes, spaced along each arm (and there are thousands upon thousands of genes), determines certain patterns or outcomes. For instance, there's genes for eye colour, there are about 100 that relate to the makeup of the heart and how it's going to form, there are genes for every single thing that make up YOU. That's why we're all so unique. Awww. Back on the chromosomes themselves, the lower the chromosome number, the larger the physical chromosome is. So, chromosome 1 is one of the largest in size, while chromosome 23 is a little itty bitty thing. The larger the chromosome with a 'problem', the greater you could expect the defect. In other words, a chrom 2:7 translocation or similar would have far more life threatening defects. Er.... not that our list isn't impressive.
Now, in two of these chromosomes, in someone with a translocation, a break has occurred. Imagine two sets of Twisties side by side (oh I'm so brilliant, they look exactly like Twisties in the pictures I've seen!), each set containing one big Twistie and one slightly less so. One set (chromosome 11) is a cheese Twistie and the other (22) is a chicken Twistie. Still with me?
Now.... snap off the bottom 5mm from the long arm of the chicken and the long arm of the cheese Twistie. Then tack the resulting piece of the chicken Twistie onto the bottom of the cheese Twistie (where its piece has broken off). Do the same in reverse: put the broken off piece of the cheese one onto the chicken Twistie's long arm.
And what you get is a balanced translocation. Ta-da! Now you have a little piece of cheese (11) on the chicken Twistie (chromosome 22) and vice versa. This Twistie arrangement is all good for Steve; he still gets his two full Twisties and doesn't miss out on a thing. Medically speaking, he has no missing genetic information and is (obviously) "compatible with life".... even though sometimes I think he might be happier if we would all just piss off so he could freely play Playstation and conduct endless scientific experiments like the geeks on Myth Busters. Is there a difference between a nerd and a geek, by the way? I've always wondered.
Let's not forget, as well, that we all carry a pair of every chromosome. So Steve has one perfect cheese Twistie (chromosome 11) and one with a piece of chicken Twistie (22) tacked on. That one also is missing a little part of the cheese end. The same for his chicken one (chromosome 22) - one is perfect, all chicken, and the other contains a piece of cheese Twistie (11), and is missing a bit of chicken. Now he only needs to pass on ONE of each of his 23 chromosomes, and so do I, to make up a full set of 23 and a resulting bundle of joy. If he passes on his perfect chicken and perfect cheese Twistie, the result is Ella! If he passes on both the cheese and the chicken with the swapped pieces, the result is still fine - because it's balanced, like him! The pieces are all there, they're just swapped around (although that child, boy or girl, would have reproductive issewes like we're having when it comes time).
SO. Back to the translocation. The break points on Steve's two chromosomes at q23 and q11 are broken through particular genetic information. Still not lost, mind, otherwise Steve would not be *cough* normal.
But.... here's where it gets tricky *cue the dramatic minor key music*
Most of those little spermies (over 75% to be exact), each of which correctly contain just one of each of chromosomes 1-23, are carrying (for example) the chicken Twistie with the cheese piece tacked on and a perfect cheese Twistie (normal 11). This means, the missing chicken piece (22) is nowhere to be found. As well as that, there's too much cheese! That small section of genetic information is repeated, because not only is it on the normal cheese Twistie, it's repeated on the tacked-on bit on the chicken Twistie. There are various combinations that I won't baffle you with (there are about 18 variations, all told, which are specific to Steve and I.... they found that out doing our genetic mapping before we started the IVF), but basically out of those possible 18 we have about 3 or 4 which would result in a normal, you-beaut 'model'.
Anything else results in, thankfully I really do have to say, miscarriage. The chances of us actually carrying a chromosomally imbalanced (with too much chicken, not enough cheese, or missing chicken, you catch my drift) to term, whereby it hasn't stopped itself because there is just not the correct information for it to live and continue, is less than 3%. So there is an evolutionary trapdoor, if you will. I'm just the silly beggar who's having to do the incubating before it can be determined if this one's a goer. That's the only bad part really. I'd rather have many miscarriages and a perfect kid than wish for anyone, no matter how severely disabled, to make it here. Now before any pro-lifers or sensitives to disability snub their noses at me, let me give you the short list of defects our children are faced with if they don't spontaneously combust before we meet them (and they contain an imbalance):
Information from - Chromosome 22 Central:
"There are a large variety of abnormalities in t(11;22) cases. Cleft palate, heart defects, mental and physical delays, ear abnormalities, hearing loss, small chins, undescended testes (known as criptorchidism), microcephaly, dislocated hips, long philtrums, broad nose, kidney abnormalities, and Imperforate anus are among the most common findings. Atrial septum defects, extreme muscle weakness, labial abnormalities, craniofacial dysmorphism..... unmanagable mental retardation."
Now, I don't know what the hell criptorchidism is, but I ain't too keen to find out. That's some scary, scary shit. And this list isn't even exhaustive. This is just what they've studied from known cases, people who have allowed the examinations.
I think I'm lost. I hope it's prego brain... prego brain caused by a N-O-R-M-A-L embryo deep in the folds of my cushy womb room. And if it's got too much of one Twistie and not enough of the other, well, I love it, will always love it and count it as one of our lost little soldiers..... but it needs to leave. A (short, because they don't live to ripe old ages most of these kids) lifetime of disability and pain is not worth it just to satiate some need we have in us. Nup. I can wait for the right one. Last year, we thought we had the 'right one' again - it didn't fall out in the first 9 weeks, all appeared well. I had the usual morning sickness, etc.... and at my first scan, discovered we had a severely behind, slow heartbeating, little bubba. After a d & c, the pathology reports came back that she had too much chromosome 22 information (in fact, there were 3 full #22's! Steve had given her not one, but two... another one snuck in, so a true trisomy, like with Downs Syndrome on chromosome 23), and not nearly enough #11. And we made it to 9.5 weeks without even knowing. There are no precursors, no telling in advance, unless it aborts itself, if any embryo that implants is normal or imbalanced.
Now can you see why I can't get excited for weeks yet? And why I can wait through countless miscarriages, despite the blinding unfairness of it all (I'd rather a spontaneous abortion (ugh, ugly term) than have to extract a live bub)? And why we, Steve and I, have good grace about our losses? It's called treading water, biding our time. There's nothing more we can do.
Thank you and please read up to page 581 in your text before the next lecture. If I haven't lost anyone and you understand all this, you've passed the lesson.
Friday, November 18, 2005
Crouching driver, hidden huntsman
EEEEEEEE! Yes I did have one. And yes I was driving. It was on the roof on the passenger side. I think it went out the window, onto the top of the car. Where it no doubt did those slow up and down arm waves like teenage boys do out their Torana windows.
I don't care that it was a baby. That, to me, is WORSE! It means I haven't met mutter or papa yet. Holy frig, did I do the spider dance. Hard to do while keeping an even speed and the car straight, doing the paper flick across a carpeted ceiling no less.
I can't kill them, you see. I never could. I ask Steve to "get rid" of spiders from inside the house. He says "so you want me to kill it?" and I say "NO!" and he says "So you want me to leave it here?" "NO! Get rid of it!" "Well I'm not the mafia, but if you want me to get rid of it I have to kill it."
That's how it always, always goes.
I don't care that it was a baby. That, to me, is WORSE! It means I haven't met mutter or papa yet. Holy frig, did I do the spider dance. Hard to do while keeping an even speed and the car straight, doing the paper flick across a carpeted ceiling no less.
I can't kill them, you see. I never could. I ask Steve to "get rid" of spiders from inside the house. He says "so you want me to kill it?" and I say "NO!" and he says "So you want me to leave it here?" "NO! Get rid of it!" "Well I'm not the mafia, but if you want me to get rid of it I have to kill it."
That's how it always, always goes.
I'm Kirril and I'm a serial POASer
It's darker today, isn't it? Tell me it is. Soothe the beast.
It actually took every ounce of strength to not catch my FMU in a cup yesterday so I could use my last test today..... Just stare at it with me will you? I'm going on the theory here that if more people know that I am harbouring a cling-on..... then surely it will keep clinging AND be normal. Big ask, I know. But that's me theory.
So please... humour me. Stare at it like you would a Magic Eye picture and breathe an awe-filled "Wooooo!" at its very darkness today. Still not bad considering I'm not due for a visit from the aunty til tomorrow and I got this from drinking half a litre of water after FMU (that's "first morning urine" to you and me, Russ). It almost makes me want to start getting excited and let a little optimism creep in. Hope I can do. Hope I have by the bucket load. The others take time.
Thank God I have no more tests in the house.
This is going to become a supremely boring blog if all I do is hop from foot to foot dipping sticks into laundry powder scoops of pee. It's just so novel to see that line though! I think I'm a double line hog. I've had 10 of 'em now. Maybe I should take up knitting.
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
This is where I do my best...
Relaxing.
Reading.
Sitting.
Crying.
Thinking.
Laughing and enjoying being alive.
Grieving.
Talking on the phone (even though many people have asked if I'm running a bath or in the toilet.....).
This is the pond we made last year for Ella, in place of having a grave site in a cemetary as was our choice, and where all our pregnant fish are (ok, so it's only two of them but that counts as ALL of them to someone ttc). For every brick we painstakingly laid (there is a double brick surround under the pavers and rendering), for every paver we laid, every brush stroke of paint.... we thought of her. We knew we couldn't stop because it symbolised all the missed birthdays, Christmases, school concerts, friends over to play. Just all of it. And it was tough, really tough. I had my fifth m/c during that time (my first pregnancy since losing her) so there are a lot of blood, sweat and tears - all quite literally - in this monument to her. We started in May 2004 and it was complete when the shade sail went up in September the same year.
God knows how we'll ever leave this place now. It would be pretty hard to leave this behind. It brings us so much joy and has become the centrepiece of the house - we can view it from the kitchen/living area so it's ever-present.
We love it.
And here are the first flowers from the lilies, in September last year. We chose two flowers especially for her (and for us!). And they've done the right thing and done a repeat flower this year too, so thank God we're obviously treating them correctly.
Reading.
Sitting.
Crying.
Thinking.
Laughing and enjoying being alive.
Grieving.
Talking on the phone (even though many people have asked if I'm running a bath or in the toilet.....).
This is the pond we made last year for Ella, in place of having a grave site in a cemetary as was our choice, and where all our pregnant fish are (ok, so it's only two of them but that counts as ALL of them to someone ttc). For every brick we painstakingly laid (there is a double brick surround under the pavers and rendering), for every paver we laid, every brush stroke of paint.... we thought of her. We knew we couldn't stop because it symbolised all the missed birthdays, Christmases, school concerts, friends over to play. Just all of it. And it was tough, really tough. I had my fifth m/c during that time (my first pregnancy since losing her) so there are a lot of blood, sweat and tears - all quite literally - in this monument to her. We started in May 2004 and it was complete when the shade sail went up in September the same year.
God knows how we'll ever leave this place now. It would be pretty hard to leave this behind. It brings us so much joy and has become the centrepiece of the house - we can view it from the kitchen/living area so it's ever-present.
We love it.
And here are the first flowers from the lilies, in September last year. We chose two flowers especially for her (and for us!). And they've done the right thing and done a repeat flower this year too, so thank God we're obviously treating them correctly.
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
One more time for the people at home
The conversation went something like this:
K: "Hey Lenny, I did a wee this morning."
S: "........Y.....e...ssss?"
K: "And, ummm, well I put a stick in there."
S: "And a chair as well?"
K: "YUH! And anyway, a second line came up."
S: "Oh! I see."
K: "So..... I guess I'm pregnant. Again. For now."
S: "Ok. That's good."
K: "Yeah. We shtill goddit." (Gladiaydor!)
S: ".......Mmmm...."
K: "Ok, well then, seeya, bye."
S: "Ok! Yay, bye!"
See? We know the drill. Don't get excited until you see something
moving on an ultrasound. And even then, hope like hell it resembles a perfectly formed baby.
Now, even Mr Steve says he can see this one. I emailed it to him after my buddy group sisters tried to reassure me (adequately of course!) that it's there. So I'm NOT going crazy here, trying to make Jazzmena and Peppy see the second line. It really is there. Holy shit. So it is!
Hokay..... so now the fun reeeally begins. What a bloody long wait. Next step is to see out the week without getting my period. Then I'll look forward to breathing a bit easier if the next whole week doesn't turn up the worst colour in the world on my undies. And then? Well, then we can start planning for the first proper scan to see if measurements look like this little one is the full pail of skittles.....
We're not telling family - we'd rather not worry them unnecessarily, at least until there's something more tangible to tell them than "Kirril wee'd on a stick" - so anyone from my "real life" who finds out by reading here would be reminded to keep this information to themselves.
K: "Hey Lenny, I did a wee this morning."
S: "........Y.....e...ssss?"
K: "And, ummm, well I put a stick in there."
S: "And a chair as well?"
K: "YUH! And anyway, a second line came up."
S: "Oh! I see."
K: "So..... I guess I'm pregnant. Again. For now."
S: "Ok. That's good."
K: "Yeah. We shtill goddit." (Gladiaydor!)
S: ".......Mmmm...."
K: "Ok, well then, seeya, bye."
S: "Ok! Yay, bye!"
See? We know the drill. Don't get excited until you see something
moving on an ultrasound. And even then, hope like hell it resembles a perfectly formed baby.
Now, even Mr Steve says he can see this one. I emailed it to him after my buddy group sisters tried to reassure me (adequately of course!) that it's there. So I'm NOT going crazy here, trying to make Jazzmena and Peppy see the second line. It really is there. Holy shit. So it is!
Hokay..... so now the fun reeeally begins. What a bloody long wait. Next step is to see out the week without getting my period. Then I'll look forward to breathing a bit easier if the next whole week doesn't turn up the worst colour in the world on my undies. And then? Well, then we can start planning for the first proper scan to see if measurements look like this little one is the full pail of skittles.....
We're not telling family - we'd rather not worry them unnecessarily, at least until there's something more tangible to tell them than "Kirril wee'd on a stick" - so anyone from my "real life" who finds out by reading here would be reminded to keep this information to themselves.
Monday, November 14, 2005
Sunday, November 13, 2005
I kid you not
Mz Tato, your wish is my command.....
No sooner did I finish reading your comment than Mr Steve and I were heading out for a coffee and a read of the paper, and to pick up a pump (er, that's not a euphemism, we seriously need a new pump for our toxic fishies). When we hopped in the car, what should be playing? Why, no other than 'Hip To Be Square'! It was a sign! Ha ha ha.
And I have furiously googled Henry Lawson every which way including cryptically (Henry Lawson history biography lily, Henry Lawson water lily poem, blah blah blah..) and it turned up nout but a dozen or so pages on the 1977 musical version of the poem by US folk singer Priscilla Herdman - ratings of which, while lyrically sound, indicate it apparently polarises listeners.
So I'm none the wiser as to what sparked the beautiful poem. But yes, isn't it exquisite?
No sooner did I finish reading your comment than Mr Steve and I were heading out for a coffee and a read of the paper, and to pick up a pump (er, that's not a euphemism, we seriously need a new pump for our toxic fishies). When we hopped in the car, what should be playing? Why, no other than 'Hip To Be Square'! It was a sign! Ha ha ha.
And I have furiously googled Henry Lawson every which way including cryptically (Henry Lawson history biography lily, Henry Lawson water lily poem, blah blah blah..) and it turned up nout but a dozen or so pages on the 1977 musical version of the poem by US folk singer Priscilla Herdman - ratings of which, while lyrically sound, indicate it apparently polarises listeners.
So I'm none the wiser as to what sparked the beautiful poem. But yes, isn't it exquisite?
I don't get it
Why are they still reading this? Can you believe it?! It's laughable, really. I moved to be completely sure they really wanted to behave this way, and I know they've not been checking in as obsessively as they were two weeks ago when they first searched for me and found me again.... but come on, dude! It's really sad, don't you think?
Don't get me wrong, I don't mind that they're doing this - if I did and it bothered me that much, I'd disappear and take my blog and beloved readers with me and that is still a very attractive option I'll be sure to take up sometime in the future when I can't be bothered with this energy repeating over and over in my life (and when I haven't got more important things to do than setting up a blog that can't be traced! Who can really be bothered when you've really got nothing to hide?). No, it's just.... when someone gets me SO wrong, as they have obviously done going by their last vile, hugely out-of-proportion contact with me in which I was ceremoniously written out of their lives, I get a little antsy. A tad curious about this person's motive for wanting to stick around me when they've told me to piss off, y'know?
(Honestly, now, read as much as you want, I officially invite you. But as you do, please be aware of what this is doing to you. What are you gaining? And how much have you lost at your own hand?)
On a related matter, what do you do when you have had your words contorted and vomited back at you, out of context and demanding of explanation? What do you do when, after years of turning the other cheek and talking with family members about the best way to support a family member through episode after episode, this person throws up a couple of wildly incorrect scenarios back at you and tells you that everything you stand for is wrong, lies and (what was the quote?) "self-promoting, fictional crap"? Methinks the pot calleth the kettle black. Reeeeeally black.
And how do you reason with someone like this? Someone who claims that they would and have put everything aside for you in times of need (times, I am assuming, like those surrounding the death of my daughter because I can think of bare little others) but apparently they've been keeping tabs on those times because they think they have to point out to you, prove to you, how "nice" they are, how good they've been to you........ pffft! It's called give and take, it's called a 're-la-tion-ship' and it's also called don't cut off your nose to spite your face. Crikey, I'd have a lot more chips stacked in my corner if the comparison game wants to be pulled out. A dangerous, ridiculous game that I never play. How many of you only do things for others in order to get things in return from people? (I know I don't) Hands up, how many? ****cricket chirping****
It's just so bizarre that after all these years of biting my tongue and being passive and standing by in support and care for a family, it's as if I have to do all this and ALSO not have an opinion that differs from this person on how they see themselves. If I do, my opinions are "lies". Wow. I can do the suppporting, I can do the carrying, I can do all those things because it's effortless compared to some who try to support and fail. But damn me to hell if I disagree with what this person sees and what they do to me. I'm starting to see perhaps I've been done a favour....
One thing I will not do anymore is change or guard my opinions for the sake of pacifying. I don't go fronting up to people and mouthing off about them indignantly, that's not my way and not necessary. But I have a right to vent. I have a right to debrief and air grievances in any way I choose, as long as it doesn't deliberately cause hurt. Writing here, I am hurting no one..... they seek me out, and in doing so are actually choosing to hurt themselves (if in fact that is what happens for them when reading what I write). After all, if I don't write here the thoughts are still in my head anyway, doesn't stop me thinking these things even if they're not written down, so people would be none the wiser, really! Normal people don't front up to someone if they have a problem with something, they work it through on their own or talk with friends to get things off their chest, which is what I do here, what I'm in fact doing right now. I didn't suggest anyone seek me out here so I could deliberately cause some pain, it's not a pastime of mine. But I will protect myself and my opinions, you'd better be damned straight.
No, this person did all this to their own self. What they're feeling now, whatever extra internal torment they're now in.... they've done it to themselves. I was not out to hurt anyone (I never ever am and people who know me, know that for a fact). All those things this person said I felt and did towards them - they are WAY off. So wrong, in fact, I am at even more of a loss than before as to how they see things. Still... note I am only saying they are wrong about my feelings (everyone has that right because you can't possibly assume to tell me how I feel - that's what we call in our family a "mum trick".... *wink*). They are, of course, free to think and feel anything they want, as am I. The difference is, I get that - I respect that. They apparently don't yet. And this is why I haven't responded directly to this person and set about justifying my words. I don't need to.
Instead, and I'm talking to you now, I reckon you should think back to all those projections onto me that were made about my alleged feelings towards you - some of which, for memory, were my competitiveness, anger, jealousy, oh and not to mention the amusingly favourite limelight-stealing issewes.
Then try holding the mirror up to them. What you see might help you.
Once again, dear readers, I do apologise for this nasty break in transmission... Points to settle, trolls to clear out, you all know how it goes. This is the last time I'll willingly bring up this nastiness - I know you'd all much prefer me to subliminally stick another Huey Lewis & The News song in your heads. There's so much more fun to be had, so many more bits of banal tv to write about, than wallowing in all this guff! So let the drivel continue!
Don't get me wrong, I don't mind that they're doing this - if I did and it bothered me that much, I'd disappear and take my blog and beloved readers with me and that is still a very attractive option I'll be sure to take up sometime in the future when I can't be bothered with this energy repeating over and over in my life (and when I haven't got more important things to do than setting up a blog that can't be traced! Who can really be bothered when you've really got nothing to hide?). No, it's just.... when someone gets me SO wrong, as they have obviously done going by their last vile, hugely out-of-proportion contact with me in which I was ceremoniously written out of their lives, I get a little antsy. A tad curious about this person's motive for wanting to stick around me when they've told me to piss off, y'know?
(Honestly, now, read as much as you want, I officially invite you. But as you do, please be aware of what this is doing to you. What are you gaining? And how much have you lost at your own hand?)
On a related matter, what do you do when you have had your words contorted and vomited back at you, out of context and demanding of explanation? What do you do when, after years of turning the other cheek and talking with family members about the best way to support a family member through episode after episode, this person throws up a couple of wildly incorrect scenarios back at you and tells you that everything you stand for is wrong, lies and (what was the quote?) "self-promoting, fictional crap"? Methinks the pot calleth the kettle black. Reeeeeally black.
And how do you reason with someone like this? Someone who claims that they would and have put everything aside for you in times of need (times, I am assuming, like those surrounding the death of my daughter because I can think of bare little others) but apparently they've been keeping tabs on those times because they think they have to point out to you, prove to you, how "nice" they are, how good they've been to you........ pffft! It's called give and take, it's called a 're-la-tion-ship' and it's also called don't cut off your nose to spite your face. Crikey, I'd have a lot more chips stacked in my corner if the comparison game wants to be pulled out. A dangerous, ridiculous game that I never play. How many of you only do things for others in order to get things in return from people? (I know I don't) Hands up, how many? ****cricket chirping****
It's just so bizarre that after all these years of biting my tongue and being passive and standing by in support and care for a family, it's as if I have to do all this and ALSO not have an opinion that differs from this person on how they see themselves. If I do, my opinions are "lies". Wow. I can do the suppporting, I can do the carrying, I can do all those things because it's effortless compared to some who try to support and fail. But damn me to hell if I disagree with what this person sees and what they do to me. I'm starting to see perhaps I've been done a favour....
One thing I will not do anymore is change or guard my opinions for the sake of pacifying. I don't go fronting up to people and mouthing off about them indignantly, that's not my way and not necessary. But I have a right to vent. I have a right to debrief and air grievances in any way I choose, as long as it doesn't deliberately cause hurt. Writing here, I am hurting no one..... they seek me out, and in doing so are actually choosing to hurt themselves (if in fact that is what happens for them when reading what I write). After all, if I don't write here the thoughts are still in my head anyway, doesn't stop me thinking these things even if they're not written down, so people would be none the wiser, really! Normal people don't front up to someone if they have a problem with something, they work it through on their own or talk with friends to get things off their chest, which is what I do here, what I'm in fact doing right now. I didn't suggest anyone seek me out here so I could deliberately cause some pain, it's not a pastime of mine. But I will protect myself and my opinions, you'd better be damned straight.
No, this person did all this to their own self. What they're feeling now, whatever extra internal torment they're now in.... they've done it to themselves. I was not out to hurt anyone (I never ever am and people who know me, know that for a fact). All those things this person said I felt and did towards them - they are WAY off. So wrong, in fact, I am at even more of a loss than before as to how they see things. Still... note I am only saying they are wrong about my feelings (everyone has that right because you can't possibly assume to tell me how I feel - that's what we call in our family a "mum trick".... *wink*). They are, of course, free to think and feel anything they want, as am I. The difference is, I get that - I respect that. They apparently don't yet. And this is why I haven't responded directly to this person and set about justifying my words. I don't need to.
Instead, and I'm talking to you now, I reckon you should think back to all those projections onto me that were made about my alleged feelings towards you - some of which, for memory, were my competitiveness, anger, jealousy, oh and not to mention the amusingly favourite limelight-stealing issewes.
Then try holding the mirror up to them. What you see might help you.
Once again, dear readers, I do apologise for this nasty break in transmission... Points to settle, trolls to clear out, you all know how it goes. This is the last time I'll willingly bring up this nastiness - I know you'd all much prefer me to subliminally stick another Huey Lewis & The News song in your heads. There's so much more fun to be had, so many more bits of banal tv to write about, than wallowing in all this guff! So let the drivel continue!
Friday, November 11, 2005
D'oh!
Forgot one.... probably because it is so much a part of our vocabulary that we forget it comes from a movie.
Now, I'm no fan of Jim Carrey, but I do crack up every time I see that scene in The Cable Guy where he's pretending to walk away from Matthew Broderick's door, making his footsteps fainter and going "Seeya.... Bye...." in gradually quieter tones to make it sound like he's gone. Sad as it is, that's what we do. Going to work. Leaving the room. Leaving the couch to go over to the kitchen. "Ok, seeya....bye" And it's never funnier than when we do the same dwindling volume thing.
That and, every time our birthdays come round (once a year each! fancy that), we do the old Manuel from Fawlty Towers thing - when he's trying to read out his carefully written speech to Basil, who keeps ignoring him and slamming doors in his face. There's Manuel throughout the entire episode, starting his heartfelt thank you... "'eez my birzday. Seence coming here from Spain, leaving my mother, my 5 aunties, my 4 brothers..." Every birthday without fail, it's the first thing one of us says to the other. "'eez your birzday"
My mind must be reeeeally small, cos they do say small things amuse the smallest minds.
Now, I'm no fan of Jim Carrey, but I do crack up every time I see that scene in The Cable Guy where he's pretending to walk away from Matthew Broderick's door, making his footsteps fainter and going "Seeya.... Bye...." in gradually quieter tones to make it sound like he's gone. Sad as it is, that's what we do. Going to work. Leaving the room. Leaving the couch to go over to the kitchen. "Ok, seeya....bye" And it's never funnier than when we do the same dwindling volume thing.
That and, every time our birthdays come round (once a year each! fancy that), we do the old Manuel from Fawlty Towers thing - when he's trying to read out his carefully written speech to Basil, who keeps ignoring him and slamming doors in his face. There's Manuel throughout the entire episode, starting his heartfelt thank you... "'eez my birzday. Seence coming here from Spain, leaving my mother, my 5 aunties, my 4 brothers..." Every birthday without fail, it's the first thing one of us says to the other. "'eez your birzday"
My mind must be reeeeally small, cos they do say small things amuse the smallest minds.
Thursday, November 10, 2005
It was the BLURST of times??!
It's occurred to us over the past several years that we use scads of lines from telly and movies to accentuate our relationship with each other. Obscure ways of speaking from snippets of funny parts of (sometimes not funny) movies have crept into our daily lives. And never fail to make me and Mr Steve chuckle (ever since Steve went to collect a take away order of Indian, after giving his name over the phone as Steve and arriving to be asked if he was "Mr Steve? That will be $43 thank you, Mr Steve", I can't drop the Mr when referring to him). They really are "you had to be there" moments, or at least "you had to see the movie/show" occasions.
Take, for example, the following:
• When something is exciting and we're talking about it, occasionally we'll adopt the staccato manner of kiddie-play-speak that Eddie Murphy used in Raw (or was it Delirious) when acting out playing GI Joe in the bath with his brother - "and G-I Joe was comi' out-of-the-wataaah".
• When we're pleased that the answer is no to something and we get to say it with thinly disguised delight - the way George Costanza does when he's playing Trivial Pursuit with the Bubble Boy: "ohnooo! The answer is .... the Moops"
• When we are faking yelling/being angry about something. We do the Monty Burns getting angry at his team of typist monkeys working on writing him a novel, the bit where he reads what one monkey has typed - "It was the best of times, it was...the...BLURST of times???!!"
Ahhhh the years we've spent watching.....stuff.
Take, for example, the following:
• When something is exciting and we're talking about it, occasionally we'll adopt the staccato manner of kiddie-play-speak that Eddie Murphy used in Raw (or was it Delirious) when acting out playing GI Joe in the bath with his brother - "and G-I Joe was comi' out-of-the-wataaah".
• When we're pleased that the answer is no to something and we get to say it with thinly disguised delight - the way George Costanza does when he's playing Trivial Pursuit with the Bubble Boy: "ohnooo! The answer is .... the Moops"
• When we are faking yelling/being angry about something. We do the Monty Burns getting angry at his team of typist monkeys working on writing him a novel, the bit where he reads what one monkey has typed - "It was the best of times, it was...the...BLURST of times???!!"
Ahhhh the years we've spent watching.....stuff.
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
The Water Lily
A LONELY young wife
In her dreaming discerns
A lily-decked pool
With a border of ferns,
And a beautiful child,
With butterfly wings,
Trips down to the edge of the water and sings:
`Come, mamma! come!
`Quick! follow me-
`Step out on the leaves of the water-lily!'
And the lonely young wife,
Her heart beating wild,
Cries, `Wait till I come,
`Till I reach you, my child!'
But the beautiful child
With butterfly wings
Steps out on the leaves of the lily and sings:
`Come, mamma! come!
`Quick! follow me!
`And step on the leaves of the water-lily!'
And the wife in her dreaming
Steps out on the stream,
But the lily leaves sink
And she wakes from her dream.
Ah, the waking is sad,
For the tears that it brings,
And she knows 'tis her dead baby's spirit that sings:
`Come, mamma! come!
`Quick! follow me!
`Step out on the leaves of the water-lily!'
Henry Lawson
In her dreaming discerns
A lily-decked pool
With a border of ferns,
And a beautiful child,
With butterfly wings,
Trips down to the edge of the water and sings:
`Come, mamma! come!
`Quick! follow me-
`Step out on the leaves of the water-lily!'
And the lonely young wife,
Her heart beating wild,
Cries, `Wait till I come,
`Till I reach you, my child!'
But the beautiful child
With butterfly wings
Steps out on the leaves of the lily and sings:
`Come, mamma! come!
`Quick! follow me!
`And step on the leaves of the water-lily!'
And the wife in her dreaming
Steps out on the stream,
But the lily leaves sink
And she wakes from her dream.
Ah, the waking is sad,
For the tears that it brings,
And she knows 'tis her dead baby's spirit that sings:
`Come, mamma! come!
`Quick! follow me!
`Step out on the leaves of the water-lily!'
Henry Lawson
School for the gifted
I love that Far Side card - with the kiddy pushing on the door to the School For The Gifted, a door that has a sign that says "Pull".
Which brings me to my luffley husband. He is so smart. SO intelligent.
He's also been touched with the arrogance rod - which, if it weren't for him being so sure (and such a nice person), would be infuriating and a turn-off. Well... it's a turn-off a lot of the time anyway, but he gets away with it. I am usually just astounded by his brazen assuredness that he is right. In all things. And when I ask him if he thinks he is right about EV-ER-Y-THING, he oscillates between sometimes saying very calmly, with a slow blink, "Yes", and a very even and equally calm "No". So... I dunno. It must change for him as to whether he thinks he's soooooo-oooooo right and when he lets a little humility creep in and acceded he just might not be the world's expert on any topic you chuck at him.
Scarily though, he does seem to know everything about everything. Ask him any question on any given day.... he'll know the answer. Even cricket scores. I never see him watch cricket (well, hardly), but I ask dumb sports questions about the footy or about cricket deliberately when I know he hasn't watched it. And he STILL knows the right answer! And I know it's right because I'll look it up or hear it later and go "Doooh! Right again!", much like Jerry Seinfeld saying through clenched teeth "Newman!"
I was thinking about all this "I know I'm right"ness yesterday as I was driving. I had a woman on my arse (well, rather, on the car's arse) and I was doing just over the 70km/h speed limit. When people are pushy enough to come up behind me like that and sway left to right to make a point, I hit the cruise control so I know I'm keeping an even speed and just mosy along. And I was wondering whether she thought that bearing down on me would scare me into speeding up for her. Then I remembered that is actually what Steve does: he'll push behind someone and tailgate (or cm's off being technically tailgating anyway) and I've asked him before whether he reckons that will actually help the situation. Always, he is "right", of course, and says (again very fucking calmly) "Yes".
Now when the scenario is reversed and we're going along and someone is right on his tail and he's doing the speed limit, he mumbles "Pushy bastard" and goes slower to .... "teach them a lesson".
My husband, in all his intelligence and knowledge and passiveness (er, except behind the wheel), cannot grasp that him pushing behind someone and expecting them to speed up for him will yield much the same response as he has when it's reversed. A MENSA level IQ is only good for some problem solving.
Which brings me to my luffley husband. He is so smart. SO intelligent.
He's also been touched with the arrogance rod - which, if it weren't for him being so sure (and such a nice person), would be infuriating and a turn-off. Well... it's a turn-off a lot of the time anyway, but he gets away with it. I am usually just astounded by his brazen assuredness that he is right. In all things. And when I ask him if he thinks he is right about EV-ER-Y-THING, he oscillates between sometimes saying very calmly, with a slow blink, "Yes", and a very even and equally calm "No". So... I dunno. It must change for him as to whether he thinks he's soooooo-oooooo right and when he lets a little humility creep in and acceded he just might not be the world's expert on any topic you chuck at him.
Scarily though, he does seem to know everything about everything. Ask him any question on any given day.... he'll know the answer. Even cricket scores. I never see him watch cricket (well, hardly), but I ask dumb sports questions about the footy or about cricket deliberately when I know he hasn't watched it. And he STILL knows the right answer! And I know it's right because I'll look it up or hear it later and go "Doooh! Right again!", much like Jerry Seinfeld saying through clenched teeth "Newman!"
I was thinking about all this "I know I'm right"ness yesterday as I was driving. I had a woman on my arse (well, rather, on the car's arse) and I was doing just over the 70km/h speed limit. When people are pushy enough to come up behind me like that and sway left to right to make a point, I hit the cruise control so I know I'm keeping an even speed and just mosy along. And I was wondering whether she thought that bearing down on me would scare me into speeding up for her. Then I remembered that is actually what Steve does: he'll push behind someone and tailgate (or cm's off being technically tailgating anyway) and I've asked him before whether he reckons that will actually help the situation. Always, he is "right", of course, and says (again very fucking calmly) "Yes".
Now when the scenario is reversed and we're going along and someone is right on his tail and he's doing the speed limit, he mumbles "Pushy bastard" and goes slower to .... "teach them a lesson".
My husband, in all his intelligence and knowledge and passiveness (er, except behind the wheel), cannot grasp that him pushing behind someone and expecting them to speed up for him will yield much the same response as he has when it's reversed. A MENSA level IQ is only good for some problem solving.
Wednesday, November 02, 2005
Happy To Be Stuck With You
I think it's time we met, reader. Face to screen.
I apologise in advance if you were expecting Paris and Paris look-alikes.
Steve and I both knew it was fate the first time we laid eyes on each other 13 years ago last month... we both have front teeth that turn in at the same angle.
I apologise in advance if you were expecting Paris and Paris look-alikes.
Steve and I both knew it was fate the first time we laid eyes on each other 13 years ago last month... we both have front teeth that turn in at the same angle.
And the worm turned
Well, dear diary, what an unpleasant few days. But how enriching and growing it's turning out to be. Hmmm mmm.
Here's what I do know:
• I love this Dr Seuss quote: "Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who matter don't mind and those who mind don't matter."
• I am who I am, I know what I know.
• I will continue to speak my truth on a global scale.
• Unless I am fooling the vast majority of people around me, from all walks of life and dispositions, I am NOT all those things others with lower self-esteem project onto me. I'd like to think my friends, readers, acquaintances are all intelligent, well-informed people capable of making accurate observations - therefore, judgements on my character that directly oppose these points of view are incorrect. Majority rules, baby!
• Seek and you WILL find.
• Be prepared, if you are going to do the seeking and the finding, that something in you is ready to learn those things that are uncovered in your search.
• The specifics of any heated situation are actually just semantics. Dig deeper and wade in it and you will find your path anew. There is no real way forward if situations are simply hashed out and rights/wrongs are argued back and forth.
• Stand in your OWN truth and be grounded. If you are unwavering, the respect and support you need to do your work will envelope you, whoever you are.
• Idle or unchannelled intuitive minds are scary, scary toxic pools of energy. Which is so unfortunate because of the great waste of natural talent which could be shared out to the world.
• I am now more than ever so sure of the job I have been chosen to do. And I respect and trust it like I never have in the past.
• My daughter is very pushy.
Here's what I don't know:
• Why you can be sitting on 100 with your cruise control set and a car comes up behind you, goes to round you up and then sits in your blind spot, inching past you forward and back as if your speed is making them have to go faster to get past you when you've been sitting on the same speed since before they came up in your mirror?
• Conversely, with cruise control set, why you go to round up a car that you came up on quite quickly because they are obviously going under the speed limit, but they are speed-reference challenged because they can't hold their speed and instead go faster to try and keep up with you. You have to hoon past what should have been an easy overtaking - but makes you end up doing 10km over the limit.
• Why an eyelash always gets in my eye when I am on a freeway.
• Why I never remember to wear sun screen on my arms when I am driving.
Guess who went to visit a client in the country today...
I just finished this entry when an email landed in my Inbox.
"Good friends are like stars. You don't always see them, but you know they're always there." Awwwww! How very fitting and coincidental and all that. Can you feel the love??! Peace out, peeps.
Here's what I do know:
• I love this Dr Seuss quote: "Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who matter don't mind and those who mind don't matter."
• I am who I am, I know what I know.
• I will continue to speak my truth on a global scale.
• Unless I am fooling the vast majority of people around me, from all walks of life and dispositions, I am NOT all those things others with lower self-esteem project onto me. I'd like to think my friends, readers, acquaintances are all intelligent, well-informed people capable of making accurate observations - therefore, judgements on my character that directly oppose these points of view are incorrect. Majority rules, baby!
• Seek and you WILL find.
• Be prepared, if you are going to do the seeking and the finding, that something in you is ready to learn those things that are uncovered in your search.
• The specifics of any heated situation are actually just semantics. Dig deeper and wade in it and you will find your path anew. There is no real way forward if situations are simply hashed out and rights/wrongs are argued back and forth.
• Stand in your OWN truth and be grounded. If you are unwavering, the respect and support you need to do your work will envelope you, whoever you are.
• Idle or unchannelled intuitive minds are scary, scary toxic pools of energy. Which is so unfortunate because of the great waste of natural talent which could be shared out to the world.
• I am now more than ever so sure of the job I have been chosen to do. And I respect and trust it like I never have in the past.
• My daughter is very pushy.
Here's what I don't know:
• Why you can be sitting on 100 with your cruise control set and a car comes up behind you, goes to round you up and then sits in your blind spot, inching past you forward and back as if your speed is making them have to go faster to get past you when you've been sitting on the same speed since before they came up in your mirror?
• Conversely, with cruise control set, why you go to round up a car that you came up on quite quickly because they are obviously going under the speed limit, but they are speed-reference challenged because they can't hold their speed and instead go faster to try and keep up with you. You have to hoon past what should have been an easy overtaking - but makes you end up doing 10km over the limit.
• Why an eyelash always gets in my eye when I am on a freeway.
• Why I never remember to wear sun screen on my arms when I am driving.
Guess who went to visit a client in the country today...
I just finished this entry when an email landed in my Inbox.
"Good friends are like stars. You don't always see them, but you know they're always there." Awwwww! How very fitting and coincidental and all that. Can you feel the love??! Peace out, peeps.
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
For my geeky friends
This is funny, but I've copied it here anyway. Which... defeats the purpose of providing the link. ******* lone cricket chirping *******
Top 10 replies by developers when their programs don't work:
10. 'That's weird...'
9. 'It's never done that before.'
8. 'It worked yesterday.'
7. 'You must have the wrong version.'
6. 'It works, but it hasn't been tested.'
5. 'Somebody must have changed my code.'
4. 'Did you check for a virus?'
3. 'Where were you when the program blew up?'
2. 'Why do you want to do it that way?'
and finally ...
1. 'I thought I fixed that.'
Top 10 replies by developers when their programs don't work:
10. 'That's weird...'
9. 'It's never done that before.'
8. 'It worked yesterday.'
7. 'You must have the wrong version.'
6. 'It works, but it hasn't been tested.'
5. 'Somebody must have changed my code.'
4. 'Did you check for a virus?'
3. 'Where were you when the program blew up?'
2. 'Why do you want to do it that way?'
and finally ...
1. 'I thought I fixed that.'
The true meaning of Christmas
Another year of wondering what it's all about.
K: So what is it, anyway? Is it about the kids?
S: Nah
K: No, I mean, really it started with the birth of Christ and all...
S: That's the story
K: But the tradition now is for the children. Yes, it's totally over-commercialised and it's possibly taken for granted, but for kids, it's still exciting to see their families all together at once isn't it?
S: Yeah
K: And forgiveness. It's such a crock that warring people have to 'put it all aside' to spend Christmas together. Look at WWI, WWII. The story is famous, how they put down their weapons and had a spot of turkey togther. What's with THAT? (thinking: but maybe that's it, maybe without Christmas and that one day's grace from grievances, there isn't any other time to take a breather from all the sadness that goes with fighting and disharmony)
S: *driving*
K: So then... what is the meaning of Christmas? What's it all about?
S: The food
K: Huh?
S: It's about the food.
K: What!@?
S: When else do you get to have yummy ham and yummy turkey? And that stuffing?
K: It's..... about..... the food....
S: *quite pleased with himself* Yuh
K: So what is it, anyway? Is it about the kids?
S: Nah
K: No, I mean, really it started with the birth of Christ and all...
S: That's the story
K: But the tradition now is for the children. Yes, it's totally over-commercialised and it's possibly taken for granted, but for kids, it's still exciting to see their families all together at once isn't it?
S: Yeah
K: And forgiveness. It's such a crock that warring people have to 'put it all aside' to spend Christmas together. Look at WWI, WWII. The story is famous, how they put down their weapons and had a spot of turkey togther. What's with THAT? (thinking: but maybe that's it, maybe without Christmas and that one day's grace from grievances, there isn't any other time to take a breather from all the sadness that goes with fighting and disharmony)
S: *driving*
K: So then... what is the meaning of Christmas? What's it all about?
S: The food
K: Huh?
S: It's about the food.
K: What!@?
S: When else do you get to have yummy ham and yummy turkey? And that stuffing?
K: It's..... about..... the food....
S: *quite pleased with himself* Yuh
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