Forget the title it was just to get your attention to read this. The Australian Chamber of Commerce and Industry has put the cost of implementing the National Identity Card at $15 Billion.
That amount would build a Synchrotron in Perth, another in Brisbane and get our almost finished Monash one, on line that much sooner. Synchrotrons benefit people not government and benefitting people is a low priority for Howard. $15 Billion put into research in this country would put our scientists, already in the forefront, way ahead in scientific achievement in the world.
I hereby request that my $750 identity card cost be given to the Monash Synchrotron for research into whether Liberal party members have brains.
Cue Robert Doyle. He wants students to be legally required to sing the National Anthem and fly the flag to enhance respect in the community. 'God save the Queen' didn't leave much room for word replacing but 'Advance Australia Fair' is ripe for our budding hip hop rap teens to go to town on. Mr Doyle said under his plan, children would learn respect for authority. HaHaHaHa, not if they read newspapers reporting on Parliament, dear boy.
Enter stage left, Barmy Joyce is at again. Following up his remarks about RU486, he now criticises the HPV vaccine because it might promote promiscuity. This man should not be allowed out without a muzzle. He said that he would be "personally very circumspect about giving such a vaccine to girls who were too young to cope with the potential consequences of sexual activity". Attention Barmy, it's not an aphrodesiac, its a vaccine that could potentially save the lives of your four daughters. This is the same argument used by Muslim and Christian fundamentalists more concerned with virginity than women's lives.
Now we go straight to my other favourite thing, reality TV, not. One program I will not be watching is The Biggest Loser'. One of the contestants said his son was so embarrassed by his weight that he asked him to drop him around the corner at school so no one sees him. Personally I'd have dropped the brat on his head around the corner. A missed opportunity to teach the kid about looking past superficial appearances. The delicious prize is a lousy $200,000 and a home fitness studio.
I want follow up shows, The Biggest Re-gainer or The Biggest Removal of Empty Skin by Plastic Surgery After the Fat's Gone.
And no, the diet is not going well and no, I'm not getting back on the scales anytime soon. I looked in the mirror this morning and that was enough trauma for the week.
I think I have cockroaches in the airconditioner. I had one on the kitchen door which fell on me this morning, notice he was on the door not in the kitchen, even roaches have their limits it seems. It appears my sister is having her battles with Nature's wildlife in the form of giant slugs coming under the door and snacking on the cat food. She's tried putting down a layer of salt which didn't do a lot for the cat and didn't slow the slugs down one bit.
So I am regaling her with tales of cockroaches and spiders and she gasps, "There's a slug in the freezer!", which leaves me with visions of gravity defying slimers. Turns out she wandered into the kitchen sans clothing, to find one enjoying a four course at the cat's dish. She picked it up in a tissue and put it in the freezer. I can follow the reasoning, it's a bit hard to nip out to the garden in one's nakedness to chuck away a slug but it was a week ago and she'd just remembered. It's okay, she doesn't keep food in the freezer, just the vodka.
Monday, January 30, 2006
Saturday, January 28, 2006
PIGS IN SPACE
Good old earthlings, there’s no doubt about our ability to stuff up. Not content with making a mess of the planet, we have branched into space.
There is more than 9,000 pieces of space debris totalling nearly 5,500 tons orbiting above us. NASA scientists say the debris will grow as items in orbit collide and break into more pieces.
Much of the debris results from explosions of satellites, especially old upper stages left in orbit with left over fuel and high pressure fluids.
The worst area is between 550 miles and 625 miles above the Earth. The International Space Station operates at about 250 miles and the Space Shuttle flights range between 250 and 375 miles so the biggest risk is to commercial, research flights and other space activities.
At the moment there is no viable solution to removing any of the existing large objects before they collide and make more debris. Ideas put forward so far include tethers to slow down orbiters to cause them to fall back to Earth, engines in satellites and booster rockets to direct them down or ground based lasers to disturb satellite orbits but all are costly or impractical.
The European Space Agency launched the first test satellite for its Galileo navigation system on December 28. The Galileo system will consist of 30 satellites orbiting 24,000 kilometres above Earth.
That’s another 30 satellites and the hardware to get them there and while there is an advantage to having a system that’s not controlled by the military it adds to an environmental problem with no immediate hope of being cleared up.
Our first alien visitors may well be intergalactic inspectors on a mission to Planet Garbage.
While I’m talking about pigs ex-husbands, it seems I may have done him a slight injustice. According to New Scientist this week, sex before stressful events keeps you calm (Hi, Warnie). The Blight was in Toastmasters when he met the Blonde so it may all have been an innocent attempt to alleviate stress during those speech contests.
Stuart Brody, a psychologist at the University of Paisley, UK, compared the impact of different sexual activities on blood pressure when a person later experiences acute stress. For a fortnight, 24 women and 22 men kept diaries of how often they engaged in penile-vaginal intercourse (PVI) (got to love those initials), masturbation or partnered sexual activity excluding intercourse (boy am I going to get some google hits with this). After, the volunteers (volunteers! I know some blokes who would have paid to do this) underwent a stress test involving public speaking and mental arithmetic out loud.
Brody also made psychological measurements of neuroticism and anxiety (keeping a diary like that would stress me) in the volunteers, as well as work stress and partnership satisfaction. (24 women but only 22 men, right)
Differences in sexual behaviour provided the best explanation for the range of stress responses. He speculates that release of the “pair-bonding” hormone oxytocin between partners might account for the calming effect.
I was going to be more witty on this subject but my stress levels went soaring as a giant huntsman came over the top of my monitor. Thank goodness my chair has wheels and can they go fast. I thought he was down behind the bookcase eating silverfish, stupid prat. He has been humanely stuffed in a plastic bag and dumped outside and I can’t even use that to see if it’s right about them predicting rain since it’s been pissing all day. Now I’ve totally gone off the subject of sex. Spiders and talking about the Blight will do that.
There is more than 9,000 pieces of space debris totalling nearly 5,500 tons orbiting above us. NASA scientists say the debris will grow as items in orbit collide and break into more pieces.
Much of the debris results from explosions of satellites, especially old upper stages left in orbit with left over fuel and high pressure fluids.
The worst area is between 550 miles and 625 miles above the Earth. The International Space Station operates at about 250 miles and the Space Shuttle flights range between 250 and 375 miles so the biggest risk is to commercial, research flights and other space activities.
At the moment there is no viable solution to removing any of the existing large objects before they collide and make more debris. Ideas put forward so far include tethers to slow down orbiters to cause them to fall back to Earth, engines in satellites and booster rockets to direct them down or ground based lasers to disturb satellite orbits but all are costly or impractical.
The European Space Agency launched the first test satellite for its Galileo navigation system on December 28. The Galileo system will consist of 30 satellites orbiting 24,000 kilometres above Earth.
That’s another 30 satellites and the hardware to get them there and while there is an advantage to having a system that’s not controlled by the military it adds to an environmental problem with no immediate hope of being cleared up.
Our first alien visitors may well be intergalactic inspectors on a mission to Planet Garbage.
While I’m talking about pigs ex-husbands, it seems I may have done him a slight injustice. According to New Scientist this week, sex before stressful events keeps you calm (Hi, Warnie). The Blight was in Toastmasters when he met the Blonde so it may all have been an innocent attempt to alleviate stress during those speech contests.
Stuart Brody, a psychologist at the University of Paisley, UK, compared the impact of different sexual activities on blood pressure when a person later experiences acute stress. For a fortnight, 24 women and 22 men kept diaries of how often they engaged in penile-vaginal intercourse (PVI) (got to love those initials), masturbation or partnered sexual activity excluding intercourse (boy am I going to get some google hits with this). After, the volunteers (volunteers! I know some blokes who would have paid to do this) underwent a stress test involving public speaking and mental arithmetic out loud.
Brody also made psychological measurements of neuroticism and anxiety (keeping a diary like that would stress me) in the volunteers, as well as work stress and partnership satisfaction. (24 women but only 22 men, right)
Differences in sexual behaviour provided the best explanation for the range of stress responses. He speculates that release of the “pair-bonding” hormone oxytocin between partners might account for the calming effect.
I was going to be more witty on this subject but my stress levels went soaring as a giant huntsman came over the top of my monitor. Thank goodness my chair has wheels and can they go fast. I thought he was down behind the bookcase eating silverfish, stupid prat. He has been humanely stuffed in a plastic bag and dumped outside and I can’t even use that to see if it’s right about them predicting rain since it’s been pissing all day. Now I’ve totally gone off the subject of sex. Spiders and talking about the Blight will do that.
THE COCKTAIL HOUR
This gorgeous dress, made of pink silk gazar with matching pink feathers, was designed by Christobel Balenciaga who was a master at this type of hemline. He often used it in coats and short jackets, the inspiration coming from the bullfighters cloaks of his native Spain. It’s a cocktail dress and made for the cocktail hour. You didn’t rush in this dress it was made for gliding although it’s a bit like watching a swan on water, all the hard work is going on underneath.
You had to start off with a rigid boned strapless bra, girdle to hold up the stockings and no light weight lycra either. Then layer upon layer of petticoats, pulled tight at the waist. You had to be elegant to wear this, while juggling a cocktail glass, cigarette, sometimes with a holder and evening bag. All this while engaging in a witty conversation without falling over the furniture. If you could afford the couture, you could afford the lady’s maid or two that was needed to hook you into the undergarments and the dress.
Now we’re into the 21st Century and the cocktail hour as an elegant engagement has morphed into boozed up binge over the course of many hours or as long as it takes to get off your face.
My interest in the cocktail du jour is finally finding out what a jelly shot or Jello shot, if you’re American, is. I only heard about this a month or so back when an acquaintance told me she was getting ready to party but had forgotten the jelly crystals for her jelly shots.
When I finally get around to googling I’m amazed at how much is out there but I chose the DrinkStreet.com site. Mystery solved. The jelly crystals are dissolved in boiling water, cold water added and vodka or other and the mixture poured into shot glasses. Some prefer it in cupcake papers which can be easily torn away leaving the jelly shot to be slid down the throat in one action. Some prefer to leave out the cold water and use iced vodka instead.
I’m reading through the comments at this site and the whole reason for jelly shots is to get the maximum amount of alcohol in the shortest time. Depending on the type and amount of liquor involved, four to six shots should have you off your face very quickly. The jelly, of course, is to disguise the taste of the alcohol and being jelly they’re easy to make and store in the fridge to waste no time starting the party.
It’s not about enjoying a cocktail, it’s about getting smashed. No elegant cocktail dresses needed, a pair of low rider jeans, fluorescent thong knickers peeping over the top and a t-shirt and it’s, “goodbye, liver”. I’ve seen some weird party drinks over the years but this beats them all. Except for one. Does anyone remember the Bubblegum? That was Ouzo and raspberry lemonade and my stomach turns just thinking about it. I preferred Pernod in a long glass full of ice, one glass only. That was my rule, one glass only. Does anyone remember Cold Duck, sparkling burgundy? The Blight had some spectacular hangovers with that. Then there was Bacardi and coke, bourbon and coke and all the other “and coke”. It was all about disguising the taste of the alcohol with something sweet because it was never for the pleasure of drink, it was always to get smashed. The only thing that’s changed these days is the age of the smashee.
That was the thing about a proper cocktail, it was slow drinking and just like elegant dressing, it’s way too old fashioned. Brandy Alexander, anyone.
Sorry fashion addicts, the blog ate the dress but it was beautiful.
You had to start off with a rigid boned strapless bra, girdle to hold up the stockings and no light weight lycra either. Then layer upon layer of petticoats, pulled tight at the waist. You had to be elegant to wear this, while juggling a cocktail glass, cigarette, sometimes with a holder and evening bag. All this while engaging in a witty conversation without falling over the furniture. If you could afford the couture, you could afford the lady’s maid or two that was needed to hook you into the undergarments and the dress.
Now we’re into the 21st Century and the cocktail hour as an elegant engagement has morphed into boozed up binge over the course of many hours or as long as it takes to get off your face.
My interest in the cocktail du jour is finally finding out what a jelly shot or Jello shot, if you’re American, is. I only heard about this a month or so back when an acquaintance told me she was getting ready to party but had forgotten the jelly crystals for her jelly shots.
When I finally get around to googling I’m amazed at how much is out there but I chose the DrinkStreet.com site. Mystery solved. The jelly crystals are dissolved in boiling water, cold water added and vodka or other and the mixture poured into shot glasses. Some prefer it in cupcake papers which can be easily torn away leaving the jelly shot to be slid down the throat in one action. Some prefer to leave out the cold water and use iced vodka instead.
I’m reading through the comments at this site and the whole reason for jelly shots is to get the maximum amount of alcohol in the shortest time. Depending on the type and amount of liquor involved, four to six shots should have you off your face very quickly. The jelly, of course, is to disguise the taste of the alcohol and being jelly they’re easy to make and store in the fridge to waste no time starting the party.
It’s not about enjoying a cocktail, it’s about getting smashed. No elegant cocktail dresses needed, a pair of low rider jeans, fluorescent thong knickers peeping over the top and a t-shirt and it’s, “goodbye, liver”. I’ve seen some weird party drinks over the years but this beats them all. Except for one. Does anyone remember the Bubblegum? That was Ouzo and raspberry lemonade and my stomach turns just thinking about it. I preferred Pernod in a long glass full of ice, one glass only. That was my rule, one glass only. Does anyone remember Cold Duck, sparkling burgundy? The Blight had some spectacular hangovers with that. Then there was Bacardi and coke, bourbon and coke and all the other “and coke”. It was all about disguising the taste of the alcohol with something sweet because it was never for the pleasure of drink, it was always to get smashed. The only thing that’s changed these days is the age of the smashee.
That was the thing about a proper cocktail, it was slow drinking and just like elegant dressing, it’s way too old fashioned. Brandy Alexander, anyone.
Sorry fashion addicts, the blog ate the dress but it was beautiful.
Friday, January 27, 2006
CATS
I wanted to be like everyone else in blogland and post a photo of my one remaining cat but he's camera-phobic. Like a rock star caught with his pants down, this infuriating animal can detect the opening of a camera bag at 2 kms. Even if I get close enough, at the last minute he will put his paws over his face.
I have found a new website http://carnival.isfullofcrap.com/ that hosts a carnival of cats and they are gorgeous.
I will capture him in the end and I'm starting to sneak up on him with the zoom lens.
I have found a new website http://carnival.isfullofcrap.com/ that hosts a carnival of cats and they are gorgeous.
I will capture him in the end and I'm starting to sneak up on him with the zoom lens.
Thursday, January 26, 2006
CHARACTER BUILDING
This beautiful Padparadscha and yellow sapphire pendant is by Brigitte Perreault Jewellery.
This sapphire is a red-orange colour. It's from Sri Lanka, well faceted and about 80 per cent brilliant.
It is one of the rarest and most-prized of the coloured corundums in the world.
The orange can be mixed with pink or violet to give the colour of the lotus blossom called by Sri Lankans, Padparadscha.
Padparadscha sapphires tend to be cleaner to the eye than rubies.
According to crystal lore, this stone improves the character of the selfish and encourages its wearer to think before they act.
It's on my wish list because I'm greedy and I need to address this in my character.
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
MY NEW MEME WITH A TWIST
FOUR JOBS I’VE HAD IN MY LIFE
Lady’s maid on the Titanic
Spitfire test pilot
Designer at Tiffany’s
Opal miner
FOUR MOVIES I WOULD WATCH OVER AND OVER AGAIN
Random Harvest
Star Wars
Arsenic and Old Lace
Harry Potter
FOUR PLACES I’VE LIVED
Glastonbury
Malmaison
Shanghai
Melbourne
FOUR TV SHOWS I WATCH
Everything science fiction
Rocky and Bullwinkle
Everything historical
Count Duckula
FOUR PLACES I’VE BEEN ON VACATION
Tristan da Cunha
Vienna
Port Fairy
Camelot
FOUR WEBSITES I VISIT DAILY
The Girls
The Penguin
The Pikachu
The Mountain
(they’re just the heartstarters)
FOUR OF MY FAVOURITE FOODS
Chocolate
Potatoes anything
Rasberries buried in vanilla ice-cream
(with chocolate on top)
Fresh baked wholegrain and honey bread
(Hence the fatness, I am a carb junkie)
FOUR PLACES I’D RATHER BE
VIP Suite on the QE11, sipping Vintage Moet
At the Windsor having Champagne cocktails
Shopping at Van Cleef & Arpels with glass of Vintage Moet
Swimming nude with a bottle of Vintage Moet
You can’t yell foul, Link. I looked up the Meme rules, there aren’t any that says it has to be this life which is pauperish and boring. So now there’s a meme within a meme, how many of these are true?
Because I can’t afford to alienate anyone, I won’t tag you except OutofControl who has hit me twice. Although if you would like to indulge by meme-ing (?) around in your fantasy life, be my guest.
Lady’s maid on the Titanic
Spitfire test pilot
Designer at Tiffany’s
Opal miner
FOUR MOVIES I WOULD WATCH OVER AND OVER AGAIN
Random Harvest
Star Wars
Arsenic and Old Lace
Harry Potter
FOUR PLACES I’VE LIVED
Glastonbury
Malmaison
Shanghai
Melbourne
FOUR TV SHOWS I WATCH
Everything science fiction
Rocky and Bullwinkle
Everything historical
Count Duckula
FOUR PLACES I’VE BEEN ON VACATION
Tristan da Cunha
Vienna
Port Fairy
Camelot
FOUR WEBSITES I VISIT DAILY
The Girls
The Penguin
The Pikachu
The Mountain
(they’re just the heartstarters)
FOUR OF MY FAVOURITE FOODS
Chocolate
Potatoes anything
Rasberries buried in vanilla ice-cream
(with chocolate on top)
Fresh baked wholegrain and honey bread
(Hence the fatness, I am a carb junkie)
FOUR PLACES I’D RATHER BE
VIP Suite on the QE11, sipping Vintage Moet
At the Windsor having Champagne cocktails
Shopping at Van Cleef & Arpels with glass of Vintage Moet
Swimming nude with a bottle of Vintage Moet
You can’t yell foul, Link. I looked up the Meme rules, there aren’t any that says it has to be this life which is pauperish and boring. So now there’s a meme within a meme, how many of these are true?
Because I can’t afford to alienate anyone, I won’t tag you except OutofControl who has hit me twice. Although if you would like to indulge by meme-ing (?) around in your fantasy life, be my guest.
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
AN ANSWER OF SORTS
I finally received a letter from Senator Fielding, thanking me for my letter, (not emails) and for taking the time to write and share my views. No answer to the questions I’ve been asking for six months or perhaps he just doesn’t do emails. He also sent his very glossy newsletter which I suppose our taxes are paying for.
From this newsletter I quote…..
“Spending half my time in Canberra – and most of that in Parliament House – makes it hard to keep track of real life and the issue concerning real people”. The back page of the newsletter is all about helping pregnant women.
His proposals are:
l. Women considering abortions should have independent counselling from a GP before making their decisions.
2. As part of the counselling, women should receive details of agencies that offer practical support – such as financial assistance, legal advice and parenting classes – to those who wish to continue with their pregnancy.
3. The Federal Government should fund this independent counselling by GPs by allowing women to recover the cost from a new Medicare item.
He says that research shows that at least 64 percent of Australians think that the abortion rate is too high and 87 percent believe it should be reduced.
But people did not want restricted access to abortion.
He believes as a society we have an obligation to support women faced with the difficult decision of whether or not to have an abortion.
His proposals look good but they’re meant for women who would go through with pregnancy if they had support. GPs who push this counselling are most likely going to be pro-life (anti-abortion – tell the truth) and if counselling by Agencies involves putting pressure on young girls to have their babies for adoption then I find that more evil than termination.
Given the state of medicare finances at the moment, he’s got no chance of the Federal government funding this suggestion.
At no time does he address the Medical benefits gap that penalises Rainbow families. He makes no mention of women who want to get pregnant by accessing IVF or ART.
He doesn’t make any suggestions about a decent sex education program for our schools to cut the pregnancy rate for teens. He’d never consider the installation of condom vending machines at High Schools which would not only cut the pregnancy rate but STIs as well.
He’s not concerned about cutting the rate of abortions by reducing the rate of pregnancy.
We all know Family First opposes abortion and so does Senator Fielding and now this man is sitting on a Senate committee to decide about Mifepristone. I don’t believe this man can be objective about this which he sees as an abortion issue and not about whether the TGA should decide on releasing the drug or the Health Minister having the final say.
Barnaby Joyce has already said that he’s worried that women walking around today could be dead if Mifepristone is released without more consideration.
These men are suffering from PMS - patronising mouth syndrome.
If they’re both so concerned about life, why aren’t they shouting from the Senate floor about the babies’ lives that war is taking.
If they asked for letters and petitions banning war, would all those pro-lifers who sent form letters to this inquiry, send any?
I might have more respect if they did but they can’t or won’t see past their own narrow minded agenda of denying women the decision of what to do with their own bodies.
Monday, January 23, 2006
AT IT ALREADY
This is letter from the SundayHeraldSun today.
SHAME ON YOU HEATH
Brokeback Mountain is not a film about love - it is a film about homosexual seduction and rape, deceit and heartbreak. It is not what I call entertainment - there is too much of those things in real life. The use of the Marlborough-man image to sell cigarettes caused damage to millions. To now use the same image to sell homosexuality will cause irreparable damage to many young men deceived by the false "love". Heath Ledger and everyone involved in the film should be ashamed of themselves.
Since the film hasn't been released in Melbourne yet, I presume this man hasn't seen it. Nor by his description has he read the story. The young men seeing it don't have to be sold anything, they already know. As for the Marlborough man, he not only came out as a smoker but gay as well.
Now for some really scary stuff. Don't go down to Federation Square on Thursday unless you love bagpipes. 250 of them are going to play in the Australia Day Voyages Concert. There'll be hundreds of other artists there for the concert but 250 bagpipers! Oh, please please make the nasty nightmares go away. I hope the Blight goes and gets a firecracker right up his.....
SHAME ON YOU HEATH
Brokeback Mountain is not a film about love - it is a film about homosexual seduction and rape, deceit and heartbreak. It is not what I call entertainment - there is too much of those things in real life. The use of the Marlborough-man image to sell cigarettes caused damage to millions. To now use the same image to sell homosexuality will cause irreparable damage to many young men deceived by the false "love". Heath Ledger and everyone involved in the film should be ashamed of themselves.
Since the film hasn't been released in Melbourne yet, I presume this man hasn't seen it. Nor by his description has he read the story. The young men seeing it don't have to be sold anything, they already know. As for the Marlborough man, he not only came out as a smoker but gay as well.
Now for some really scary stuff. Don't go down to Federation Square on Thursday unless you love bagpipes. 250 of them are going to play in the Australia Day Voyages Concert. There'll be hundreds of other artists there for the concert but 250 bagpipers! Oh, please please make the nasty nightmares go away. I hope the Blight goes and gets a firecracker right up his.....
Sunday, January 22, 2006
DOUGHNUTS, HMMMMMMMMMM
It's Saturday night, the shops are shut and I don't have a car anyway but I'm still on the edge of a doughnut binge. Thank you Sam at Culturestrain. After weeks of pointedly ignoring Kirstie Alley's nasally, whining, grating voice spruiking Jenny Craig, I now automatically look up to watch that damn doughnut.
I used to hear the words 'chicken fettucine' and mutter, 'go vego, stupid fat tart' but like one of Pavlov's dogs I am drawn to that doughnut. I love doughnuts, iced, sugar, hot, cold it doesn't matter and now I have that yummy badness disappearing into that giant mouth and she's getting paid for it. She doesn't have to pay them the outrageous amounts for their crumby (joke) advice.
Doesn't Scientology teach manners, like it's not polite to speak with your mouth full, especially when it's full of a doughnut that I instantly start to crave. Come to think of it Sam, how much were you paid to get every fat person in the country to focus on that doughnut? Don't do it again or I'll hunt you down, put a doughnut in your hand and gnaw your arm off.
Seeing as I'm low on blood sugar (not even a biscuit stashed) I might as well have a go at TV showing every sport (that's free TV) under the sun without so much as a hint of anything leading up to the Winter Olympics. Winter - ice - skating - World Championships, U.S., Canada and last Thursday European Championships. Not a word about Irina Slutskaya winning her seventh European figure skating title, passing Sonja Henie and Katarina Witt. Is this just a jealousy thing because Melbourne has the Commonwealth games which I'm not going to watch unless they ice over the MCG?
I want an ice skating fix. I need it and so do the other three or five people who'll watch it. The games start on February 10 and I need to ease into the triple loops otherwise I'll spin out. Do something before Desperate Housewives take over again.
I used to hear the words 'chicken fettucine' and mutter, 'go vego, stupid fat tart' but like one of Pavlov's dogs I am drawn to that doughnut. I love doughnuts, iced, sugar, hot, cold it doesn't matter and now I have that yummy badness disappearing into that giant mouth and she's getting paid for it. She doesn't have to pay them the outrageous amounts for their crumby (joke) advice.
Doesn't Scientology teach manners, like it's not polite to speak with your mouth full, especially when it's full of a doughnut that I instantly start to crave. Come to think of it Sam, how much were you paid to get every fat person in the country to focus on that doughnut? Don't do it again or I'll hunt you down, put a doughnut in your hand and gnaw your arm off.
Seeing as I'm low on blood sugar (not even a biscuit stashed) I might as well have a go at TV showing every sport (that's free TV) under the sun without so much as a hint of anything leading up to the Winter Olympics. Winter - ice - skating - World Championships, U.S., Canada and last Thursday European Championships. Not a word about Irina Slutskaya winning her seventh European figure skating title, passing Sonja Henie and Katarina Witt. Is this just a jealousy thing because Melbourne has the Commonwealth games which I'm not going to watch unless they ice over the MCG?
I want an ice skating fix. I need it and so do the other three or five people who'll watch it. The games start on February 10 and I need to ease into the triple loops otherwise I'll spin out. Do something before Desperate Housewives take over again.
Saturday, January 21, 2006
FIFTEEN
The curls have gone and he's heading towards six feet tall and spending every Saturday at the races with his Grandfather. He had several outfits, all colour co-ordinated, all expensive as was the Givenchy aftershave. He had a habit of 'borrowing' the old boy's silk socks and usually the last word as they left was Dad saying "let me see your feet". He learned the art of talking to all ages, manners, race course etiquette and how to scam his way into the Members. They forged a bond not often seen these days between the generations.
We'll forget the sixteenth year. The year of the graffiti artist. The year of his first formal and his first and last hangover. He threw up all over his father's tux even managing to fill the pockets (don't ask) but missed the shoes, the only thing we had to hire. This was the year we bought him his first professional camera and the wild life photographer was born.
Friday, January 20, 2006
IN THE MEME TIME
Hit with two memes this week, both designed to let the world at large know what a nut job I am.
Here are my 5 wierdest habits.
I never step on ants. I'll stomp on anything else except bees, I always say hello to bees. I also talk to dogs and cats when I'm out walking. Unsociable creeps never answer.
My house is generally a pigsty except for my cupboards and wardrobes. My 'in case I ever get asked out' dresses have one wardrobe and their own dress bags. 'Going shopping' dresses and the house rags have another. I always change the minute I get home and hang my dresses up. That's the extent of my housework.
I never pee at parties unless it's in danger of running out of my ears. I try to make it home and leave the toilet door open when I go out. It's okay, I don't have a dog to drink out of the bowl.
I can't leave home without polish on my toenails. It draws attention away from the funny fat legs.
I can't sleep unless I have a shower at night and wear perfume. (which hasn't worked because it's 2.30 a.m. and it's hot)
Here are my 5 wierdest habits.
I never step on ants. I'll stomp on anything else except bees, I always say hello to bees. I also talk to dogs and cats when I'm out walking. Unsociable creeps never answer.
My house is generally a pigsty except for my cupboards and wardrobes. My 'in case I ever get asked out' dresses have one wardrobe and their own dress bags. 'Going shopping' dresses and the house rags have another. I always change the minute I get home and hang my dresses up. That's the extent of my housework.
I never pee at parties unless it's in danger of running out of my ears. I try to make it home and leave the toilet door open when I go out. It's okay, I don't have a dog to drink out of the bowl.
I can't leave home without polish on my toenails. It draws attention away from the funny fat legs.
I can't sleep unless I have a shower at night and wear perfume. (which hasn't worked because it's 2.30 a.m. and it's hot)
I HAVE HEELS AGAIN
I am getting skin back on my heels at last but I won't be wearing shoes for another couple of weeks. I was concerned about it taking so long in case my circulation wasn't up to scratch and I never want to take another circulation test in my life.
I have two, well, four sensitive spots on my body, my feet and my fingertips. The latter is why I'm never going to develop Diabetes. The thought of jamming a needle into my fingers every day for a spot of blood isn't my idea of fun. With the feet, it's the memory of that test.
As my surgeon so quaintly put it, "We have to see what's going on inside your funny fat legs before we go putting expensive bits in there". I had to battle to get those expensive bits as it was because they said I was too young and they would wear out before I did. For this test I had to go to the Department of Nuclear Medicine where they would put God knows what into my legs and see if it went anywhere.
I got plonked on the most uncomfortable bed ever and shown a screen where I could watch the 'going up the legs' show. Even listening to them explaining everything I never considered where they were going to put the dye in. It's a good thing I was in the prone position when they did tell me or nothing short of a tank would have stopped me going through the door to freedom. The dodgy knees might have slowed me down but I'd have made it.
They uncovered a tray with SIX syringes with NEEDLES and said one between big toes, one on either side of the ankles. Ankles I could handle but between toes was a whole other world of nasty. I mean I have two feet, two needles between four toes and here they are telling me it would sting a bit. I have a high threshold of pain but not great for sting and on a scale of one to ten, it was way up in the low hundreds and they don't do one foot at a time. Toes first, gritted teeth, inside of ankles then bash the outside ankles to raise a nice vein by which time the teeth are being ground into dust and fingers are gouging holes into the steel sides of the bed of nails I was on.
It was fascinating watching the screen, Nile Delta on the left, Mississippi Delta on the right (no wonder they put that in spelling bees). Right had it over left for speed but at least I did have working veins in there. After it went right up, they make you go walking for an hour to see what happens. If it's good, the veins start disappearing from the feet up. More fascination but not enough to make me go through it again. Never asked where the dye ended up either, probably still circulating but I did look to see if I glowed in the dark that night.
I have two, well, four sensitive spots on my body, my feet and my fingertips. The latter is why I'm never going to develop Diabetes. The thought of jamming a needle into my fingers every day for a spot of blood isn't my idea of fun. With the feet, it's the memory of that test.
As my surgeon so quaintly put it, "We have to see what's going on inside your funny fat legs before we go putting expensive bits in there". I had to battle to get those expensive bits as it was because they said I was too young and they would wear out before I did. For this test I had to go to the Department of Nuclear Medicine where they would put God knows what into my legs and see if it went anywhere.
I got plonked on the most uncomfortable bed ever and shown a screen where I could watch the 'going up the legs' show. Even listening to them explaining everything I never considered where they were going to put the dye in. It's a good thing I was in the prone position when they did tell me or nothing short of a tank would have stopped me going through the door to freedom. The dodgy knees might have slowed me down but I'd have made it.
They uncovered a tray with SIX syringes with NEEDLES and said one between big toes, one on either side of the ankles. Ankles I could handle but between toes was a whole other world of nasty. I mean I have two feet, two needles between four toes and here they are telling me it would sting a bit. I have a high threshold of pain but not great for sting and on a scale of one to ten, it was way up in the low hundreds and they don't do one foot at a time. Toes first, gritted teeth, inside of ankles then bash the outside ankles to raise a nice vein by which time the teeth are being ground into dust and fingers are gouging holes into the steel sides of the bed of nails I was on.
It was fascinating watching the screen, Nile Delta on the left, Mississippi Delta on the right (no wonder they put that in spelling bees). Right had it over left for speed but at least I did have working veins in there. After it went right up, they make you go walking for an hour to see what happens. If it's good, the veins start disappearing from the feet up. More fascination but not enough to make me go through it again. Never asked where the dye ended up either, probably still circulating but I did look to see if I glowed in the dark that night.
HEY LEFTY
Anonymous Lefty says he won't post photographs if and when he and Mrs Lefty have children
because they're not as cute as his kitten. We had better be prepared if they're as gorgeous as mine was. He never forgave me for the sailor suit or letting him look like Shirley Temple but that's what mothers do.
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
NO NEWS AGAIN
After looking at the headlines, I decided I couldn't comment on the news without a bottle of Serepax so I'm being frivolous again. Can anyone tell me where these falls are, I believe it's the Blue Mountains but haven't a clue where? "Mr. Bereavement" is still playing around with Miss Ginger Fluff. She has to be female because he beats up any male that comes into his territory. She wandered in yesterday afternoon, politely enquired of his whereabouts, wandered off when told the very old boy was sprawled on the couch and unlikely move until food appeared.
She came back around seven, inviting herself in and talked to me while waving her tail seductively in his direction. I have to say, on further acquaintance, she is not ginger but a soft apricot and cream. I suspect Dad was ginger and Mum was of the fluffy variety but she doesn't have the squashy face of a Persian. She does have a long fluffy tail of apricot and cream stripes which she waves like an ostrich feather. Her face is refined with large eyes, very pointed ears and she speaks in cat but every meaning is quite clear.
They cavorted in the garden until past midnight and I noticed his dish was licked very clean this morning, a romantic supper, perhaps. He's back on the couch sound asleep, getting ready for tonight. It is a strictly platonic relationship and I certainly hope he's told her that.
Great news on the diet front, I have lost 1kg. Okay so it's small news but I'm grabbing at straws here. Anything that keeps me having a breakfast of two slices of wholemeal wholegrain toast, one boiled egg (organic, from happy little chooks on Kangaroo Island), a litre of water and fresh grapefruit juice is good.
That is not my idea of breakfast. This is breakfast. Croissants with organic rasberry spread, not jam but spread, cups of freshly brewed coffee, peach and orange juice with fresh passionfruit floating on top. Consumed sitting on a balconey overlooking the ocean, alone, because the gorgeous bloke from the night before is still sleeping, exhausted.
If it ever happens pictures will be posted for the drooling over.
Now wasn't that better than reading the news.
MORE BITS
Memo to QueerPenguin! If you're going to renovate the blog, at least give your poor fans some kind of warning. Nothing like logging on and getting the eyeballs scorched with a heavy dose of radioactive pink. I thought I'd moved into the twilight zone. I love the Carmen Miranda Penguin, jealous of it actually, I want it.
I slept in again this morning. I didn't think I'd miss those golden eyes boring into my skull at 7 o'clock precisely and that includes adjusting for daylight saving. I'm not speaking to his Lordship's brother who, showing no respect, brought home a friend to play with. Miss Ginger Fluffy is new to the area but is not a stray, I hope. We always imagined we had an invisible cat sign on our gate that automatically flashed "vacancy" when one departed as we never seemed to go below three cats. For interested parties, I can recommend the Crystal Kitty Litter, practically have to mortgage the house to buy it but it's worthwhile.
While I'm on about expensive goodies. Passionfoods at 219 Ferars St., South Melbourne have Green & Black's organic vanilla chocolate but at $6.95 for a 100 gram block I'd have to think twice about breaking a diet for it.
I have a question for the Kraft Company. If you're going to make your food in China, where are the raw ingredients coming from? I spend half my time in the supermarket trying to buy only Australian or at a pinch, New Zealand so Kraft is out. Dick Smith has a new customer.
I have been trying to keep this post light to keep my mind off the obscene amount of money that the U.S. will probably spend on this immoral war but it's not working. The good that nearly two trillion dollars would do in this world for poverty and disease, to stop the suffering of children and make Americans respected is incalcuable. But instead a few will get disgustingly rich, millions will die and they wonder why people will spit at their flag. Can someone shove a photo of dying children in the snow of Pakistan under Bush's imbecile nose.
I slept in again this morning. I didn't think I'd miss those golden eyes boring into my skull at 7 o'clock precisely and that includes adjusting for daylight saving. I'm not speaking to his Lordship's brother who, showing no respect, brought home a friend to play with. Miss Ginger Fluffy is new to the area but is not a stray, I hope. We always imagined we had an invisible cat sign on our gate that automatically flashed "vacancy" when one departed as we never seemed to go below three cats. For interested parties, I can recommend the Crystal Kitty Litter, practically have to mortgage the house to buy it but it's worthwhile.
While I'm on about expensive goodies. Passionfoods at 219 Ferars St., South Melbourne have Green & Black's organic vanilla chocolate but at $6.95 for a 100 gram block I'd have to think twice about breaking a diet for it.
I have a question for the Kraft Company. If you're going to make your food in China, where are the raw ingredients coming from? I spend half my time in the supermarket trying to buy only Australian or at a pinch, New Zealand so Kraft is out. Dick Smith has a new customer.
I have been trying to keep this post light to keep my mind off the obscene amount of money that the U.S. will probably spend on this immoral war but it's not working. The good that nearly two trillion dollars would do in this world for poverty and disease, to stop the suffering of children and make Americans respected is incalcuable. But instead a few will get disgustingly rich, millions will die and they wonder why people will spit at their flag. Can someone shove a photo of dying children in the snow of Pakistan under Bush's imbecile nose.
Sunday, January 15, 2006
BITS AND OTHER BITS
I came across this quote today and it reminded me of several of our politicians of both sides.
"He did not care in which direction the car was travelling, so long as he remained in the driving seat".
Lord Beaverbrook on Lloyd George.
Monash University researcher Mr. Luke Howie has found, as part of his PhD research that there is a growing level of discreet and covert discrimination amongst workers in Melbourne. He interviewed workers about their daily routines since llth September, 2001 and found that people were fearful and cautious of sitting with, or near, others on public transport who they deemed to be of foreign or middle-eastern appearance.
We haven't had a large-scale terrorism attack here but many Australians are almost obsessive about a perceived terrorist threat. Mr. Howie said, "This fear and dread has attached itself to our psyche and many people living and working in Melbourne have changed their personal and professional behaviour to reflect this."
According to Mr. Howie, many Australians identified September ll as a turning point in their lives. Since then, acts of terrorism have continued to occur around the globe and public anxiety about these events has heightened. This has not been overtly displayed but has occurred subtly. For example, people classed as foreigners are being treated differently by areas such as the retail sector, who fail to engage in customer service with them.
Even though a large scale terrorist atttack on Australian soil is highly unlikely, Mr. Howie said the perceived threat of terrorism was changing Australia to a society where people were fearful of one another.
One thing Mr. Howie hasn't said is whether the people he interviewed put their fears down to just the September ll and consequent terrorist acts or if it's been reinforced by this government's attitude and newspaper and television reporting. When I was travelling into the city a week ago, I was amazed by the numerous nationalities boarding the train. Call me naive but I thought this was marvellous, that people from all over the world could sit in a carriage, in peace. I catch a lot of taxis so I have had drivers of all nationalities and, there's no pc way to say this, of all colours. Because of my knees I usually sit in the front seat and I have never felt the slightest fear or discomfort with any of these men. It's a sad thing that Mr. Howie has uncovered but it's reinforced every day by this government just as they are reinforcing their views of gays and lesbians as second class Australians.
Mr. Howard remains in the driving seat.
Mr. Howie's research wasn't the only interesting thing I found wandering through Monash University. I have a name, I am a cyber-slacker. I have washing to put on the line, ironing up the ceiling, enough dust on the furniture to grow weed, er, weeds but because I am here on the internet, I am cyber-slacking. Cyber-slacking was a term first used in 2001 and refers to staff who use their work internet access for personal reasons while maintaining the appearance of working.
Dr. James Phillips and Miss Kerryann Wyatt from Monash's School of Psychology, Psychiatry and Psychological Medicine, assessed the internet use of 83 participants. They looked at five personality traits - neuroticism, extraversion, openess to experience, agreeableness and conscientiousness - and their potential for predicting internet use.
The study showed that cyber-slacking could seriously affect workplace productivity, with participants reporting they spent more than a quarter of their time on the internet on non-work related tasks.
I thought I was being lazy, procrastinating and googling for fun but I'm a cyber-slacker in a big way.
"He did not care in which direction the car was travelling, so long as he remained in the driving seat".
Lord Beaverbrook on Lloyd George.
Monash University researcher Mr. Luke Howie has found, as part of his PhD research that there is a growing level of discreet and covert discrimination amongst workers in Melbourne. He interviewed workers about their daily routines since llth September, 2001 and found that people were fearful and cautious of sitting with, or near, others on public transport who they deemed to be of foreign or middle-eastern appearance.
We haven't had a large-scale terrorism attack here but many Australians are almost obsessive about a perceived terrorist threat. Mr. Howie said, "This fear and dread has attached itself to our psyche and many people living and working in Melbourne have changed their personal and professional behaviour to reflect this."
According to Mr. Howie, many Australians identified September ll as a turning point in their lives. Since then, acts of terrorism have continued to occur around the globe and public anxiety about these events has heightened. This has not been overtly displayed but has occurred subtly. For example, people classed as foreigners are being treated differently by areas such as the retail sector, who fail to engage in customer service with them.
Even though a large scale terrorist atttack on Australian soil is highly unlikely, Mr. Howie said the perceived threat of terrorism was changing Australia to a society where people were fearful of one another.
One thing Mr. Howie hasn't said is whether the people he interviewed put their fears down to just the September ll and consequent terrorist acts or if it's been reinforced by this government's attitude and newspaper and television reporting. When I was travelling into the city a week ago, I was amazed by the numerous nationalities boarding the train. Call me naive but I thought this was marvellous, that people from all over the world could sit in a carriage, in peace. I catch a lot of taxis so I have had drivers of all nationalities and, there's no pc way to say this, of all colours. Because of my knees I usually sit in the front seat and I have never felt the slightest fear or discomfort with any of these men. It's a sad thing that Mr. Howie has uncovered but it's reinforced every day by this government just as they are reinforcing their views of gays and lesbians as second class Australians.
Mr. Howard remains in the driving seat.
Mr. Howie's research wasn't the only interesting thing I found wandering through Monash University. I have a name, I am a cyber-slacker. I have washing to put on the line, ironing up the ceiling, enough dust on the furniture to grow weed, er, weeds but because I am here on the internet, I am cyber-slacking. Cyber-slacking was a term first used in 2001 and refers to staff who use their work internet access for personal reasons while maintaining the appearance of working.
Dr. James Phillips and Miss Kerryann Wyatt from Monash's School of Psychology, Psychiatry and Psychological Medicine, assessed the internet use of 83 participants. They looked at five personality traits - neuroticism, extraversion, openess to experience, agreeableness and conscientiousness - and their potential for predicting internet use.
The study showed that cyber-slacking could seriously affect workplace productivity, with participants reporting they spent more than a quarter of their time on the internet on non-work related tasks.
I thought I was being lazy, procrastinating and googling for fun but I'm a cyber-slacker in a big way.
THE OTHER BOOT
This is Lord Greystoke who left me this morning at 8.30. He's spent the last 3 months sitting on his feather cushion by my computer desk, only wandering out to eat or use the kitty litter.He'd only go outside if I carried him and walked around the garden with him. He was a grand old Victorian gentleman of a cat who used to sneak in our back door when it was cold and sleep in a corner, making off when he heard us get up. I finally caught and caged him in 1991 and after being de-sexed and vaccinated, he lost that thick- necked tomcat look, becoming refined and luxury loving. The vet estimated his age then at about 3 years so he's had a long and happy life. I thought his teeth, never the best, were the problem but my vet found a huge tumour in his mouth that was closing over his throat so the kindest decision was made. I've done this many times before and I always hold them til they go, that way they're never frightened.
Because I trust my vet completely I gave her permission to do a dissection of the tumour. This adds to her knowledge and may save another animal. She took him away wrapped in his pink blanket. It will take a week or two to stop putting down two bowls and I'll still automatically step over him when I turn off the computer.
Saturday, January 14, 2006
FRIDAY THE THIRTEENTH
Going back to one of my earlier posts about our government's rules about a celebrant having to say that in Australian Law, a union is between a man and a woman. Britain has gone in the opposite direction. There registry offices are dumping "marriage" and "wedding" and won't refer to marriage except where legally necessary. This is in the name of equality since civil partnerships became legal for gays. Good for them and I didn't hear that Britain has been struck by thunderbolts or disappeared under the waves.
The U.S. says it has no objection to Australia exporting uranium to China. The U.S. Energy Secretary expects the world to make nuclear power part of it's energy mix. Alex Downer says the world needed to debate the wider use of nuclear energy. They both say this will allow reductions in greenhouse emissions. Nobody said where they plan to store the waste. This waste is already piling up around the globe without future increases in nuclear power. And how can the U.S. say yes to nuclear energy for the world when it denounces Nth Korea and Iran for using their nuclear expertise to build bombs (I've no doubt they are). Today's friend can easily be tomorrow's enemy, a lesson the U.S. doesn't seem to be learning very well.
I tried to find words to describe the cruise ship that was docked in Melbourne, big, very big, bloody enourmously huge. The Diamond Princess even has a miniature golf course along with several swimming pools. I kept thinking it was going to tip over, it looked so top heavy but I suppose all those passengers will keep it steady. I don't fancy being locked into something with four thousand people none of whom I might like. Four thousand passengers heading for the life boats in an emergency is something else I don't want to think about. Protesters had a point about the Diamond Princess. If a ship that big could sail up the bay, why are we dredging a deeper channel?
It seems that everyone is talking about Brokeback Mountain and have been for the last 6 months so I can't understand why theatres in the U.S. booked it in and then banned it because of the story line. I liked the way Heath Ledger put it, "it's that a soul within a vessel falls in love with a soul within another vessel, in this case in the form of a man". I don't know if they're his own words or some publicist's but it's a great explanation of love not just gay love.
Still on America, makes a change from Australian stupidity. The Society of Adolescent Medicine has reviewed the goverment funded abstinence-only programs and have rejected them. "Based on our review of the evaluations of specific abstinence-only curricula and research on virginity pledges, user failure with abstinence appears to be very high. (gee, surprise) Thus, although theoretically completely effective in preventing pregnancy, in actual practice the efficacy of abstinence-only interventions may approach zero".
The authors of the report found that LGBT teens were ignored because abstinence-only programs focus on no sex until marriage.
"U.S. AIDS relief programs abroad spend at least 33 percent of prevention dollars on abstinence-only programs".
In other reports I've read, some overseas organizations decided to go it alone without these funds in order to provide condoms, contraceptive advice and terminations, all of which went against the U.S.'s dictates.
"The U.S. government has spent over $l.l billion of taxpayers money on programs that don't work". (How much did we send in aid after Katrina?)
Church groups have said if teens practice abstinence then they don't need sex education or health information on sexually transmited infections including HIV. They think that if teens look at their "What would Jesus do" bracelets every time they have a decision to make, they'll be just fine.
Well now someone has finally said what the abstinence programs really are, a great steaming pile of manure.
The U.S. says it has no objection to Australia exporting uranium to China. The U.S. Energy Secretary expects the world to make nuclear power part of it's energy mix. Alex Downer says the world needed to debate the wider use of nuclear energy. They both say this will allow reductions in greenhouse emissions. Nobody said where they plan to store the waste. This waste is already piling up around the globe without future increases in nuclear power. And how can the U.S. say yes to nuclear energy for the world when it denounces Nth Korea and Iran for using their nuclear expertise to build bombs (I've no doubt they are). Today's friend can easily be tomorrow's enemy, a lesson the U.S. doesn't seem to be learning very well.
I tried to find words to describe the cruise ship that was docked in Melbourne, big, very big, bloody enourmously huge. The Diamond Princess even has a miniature golf course along with several swimming pools. I kept thinking it was going to tip over, it looked so top heavy but I suppose all those passengers will keep it steady. I don't fancy being locked into something with four thousand people none of whom I might like. Four thousand passengers heading for the life boats in an emergency is something else I don't want to think about. Protesters had a point about the Diamond Princess. If a ship that big could sail up the bay, why are we dredging a deeper channel?
It seems that everyone is talking about Brokeback Mountain and have been for the last 6 months so I can't understand why theatres in the U.S. booked it in and then banned it because of the story line. I liked the way Heath Ledger put it, "it's that a soul within a vessel falls in love with a soul within another vessel, in this case in the form of a man". I don't know if they're his own words or some publicist's but it's a great explanation of love not just gay love.
Still on America, makes a change from Australian stupidity. The Society of Adolescent Medicine has reviewed the goverment funded abstinence-only programs and have rejected them. "Based on our review of the evaluations of specific abstinence-only curricula and research on virginity pledges, user failure with abstinence appears to be very high. (gee, surprise) Thus, although theoretically completely effective in preventing pregnancy, in actual practice the efficacy of abstinence-only interventions may approach zero".
The authors of the report found that LGBT teens were ignored because abstinence-only programs focus on no sex until marriage.
"U.S. AIDS relief programs abroad spend at least 33 percent of prevention dollars on abstinence-only programs".
In other reports I've read, some overseas organizations decided to go it alone without these funds in order to provide condoms, contraceptive advice and terminations, all of which went against the U.S.'s dictates.
"The U.S. government has spent over $l.l billion of taxpayers money on programs that don't work". (How much did we send in aid after Katrina?)
Church groups have said if teens practice abstinence then they don't need sex education or health information on sexually transmited infections including HIV. They think that if teens look at their "What would Jesus do" bracelets every time they have a decision to make, they'll be just fine.
Well now someone has finally said what the abstinence programs really are, a great steaming pile of manure.
Thursday, January 12, 2006
SOMETHING'S CHANGED
I usually don't have a good time over Christmas and New Year or for the whole of January. I uncurl from the foetal position when February approaches. This year has been different. No floods of tears, a trickle here and there. No increase in chemical assistance to get through the jingle jangle of jolly ho ho ho's.
The Blight didn't annoy me by sending a Christmas card and I repaid the favour by not sending him a birthday card reminding him that he is officially OLD and I'm not.
I did not overload what's left of my credit card with goodies, not even for myself.
I did not buy a lot of chocolates for Christmas. I did that after when they were half price and I could get twice as many.
I restrained myself from buying Christmas ornaments in the sales. I haven't put the tree up for years but I can't resist ornaments.
Even New Year's Eve didn't bring on the usual depression. It's always been horrible. Even as a child I always thought, I've just survived one lousy year and now I've got to do it again. I would have been right at home with the Addams family.
I even managed to keep a secret. Not once did I lose control of my mouth and tell the family that the Brick Outhouse had a new car hidden at my place. I had no problem with this since he has actually bought a family friendly car instead of a VroomVroom. Even this is complicated. He has to sell his ute to pay for a new engine for this one and as soon as it's going, he can sell the VroomVroom which is single tankedly keeping the oil countries afloat. Only one problem, the new one is the same make and colour of the Blight's. After a week I stopped wanting to let the tyres down in a reflex action. It worried the neighbours until our resident toffee nose just had to ask if he was back.
Back on track about my happy happiness including my grogblogging adventure. Who'd have thought, me going out in the first week in January. Power to the Goddess in my soul. I knew it wouldn't last and it didn't. One step on the scales this morning and the balloon didn't burst, it went into orbit around Mars. Only 4kgs over which doesn't sound much if I say it fast but it's 4 added to the 5 I was aiming to get off by the first quarter of 2006.
I immediately took affirmative action and ate the piece of chocolate mudcake in the freezer (for emergency depression). I checked the pantry for illegal substances, clear, fridge, clear, chocolate stashes, clear. Salads, tofu and ice water all ready. Even saying it makes me feel righteous.
Exercise is next. Moving the chair away from the computer does not count. Thinking about vacuuming the floor does not count. Walking to the shop and having capuccino doesn't count even without the sugar crystals. Anyway walking is not an option at the moment until the feet heal. I might be able to spin another week of pathetic inactivity out of the possiblity of dangerous infection given the state of dog littered footpaths. I've seen you and your dogs, you might carry those little bags but you never pick up anything.
Looks like I might have to add a weight report to my monthy earthquake report and shame myself into losing the seasonal blubber before Greenpeace takes out a protection order on me.
I weigh 135kgs.
Still a good start to 2006. No major depression. Same level of crushing debt as 2005. Getting back to my natural food diet (chocolate is not food, it's medication). I'm thinking exercise. I've stopped being polite and hung up on four telemarketers in two days, although one doesn't count since it was a machine offering me a holiday in Florida but I swore at it anyway for practise. My mother's not annoying me, yet. I have another day out in February booked.
I'm happy. I wonder when the other boot will fall.
The Blight didn't annoy me by sending a Christmas card and I repaid the favour by not sending him a birthday card reminding him that he is officially OLD and I'm not.
I did not overload what's left of my credit card with goodies, not even for myself.
I did not buy a lot of chocolates for Christmas. I did that after when they were half price and I could get twice as many.
I restrained myself from buying Christmas ornaments in the sales. I haven't put the tree up for years but I can't resist ornaments.
Even New Year's Eve didn't bring on the usual depression. It's always been horrible. Even as a child I always thought, I've just survived one lousy year and now I've got to do it again. I would have been right at home with the Addams family.
I even managed to keep a secret. Not once did I lose control of my mouth and tell the family that the Brick Outhouse had a new car hidden at my place. I had no problem with this since he has actually bought a family friendly car instead of a VroomVroom. Even this is complicated. He has to sell his ute to pay for a new engine for this one and as soon as it's going, he can sell the VroomVroom which is single tankedly keeping the oil countries afloat. Only one problem, the new one is the same make and colour of the Blight's. After a week I stopped wanting to let the tyres down in a reflex action. It worried the neighbours until our resident toffee nose just had to ask if he was back.
Back on track about my happy happiness including my grogblogging adventure. Who'd have thought, me going out in the first week in January. Power to the Goddess in my soul. I knew it wouldn't last and it didn't. One step on the scales this morning and the balloon didn't burst, it went into orbit around Mars. Only 4kgs over which doesn't sound much if I say it fast but it's 4 added to the 5 I was aiming to get off by the first quarter of 2006.
I immediately took affirmative action and ate the piece of chocolate mudcake in the freezer (for emergency depression). I checked the pantry for illegal substances, clear, fridge, clear, chocolate stashes, clear. Salads, tofu and ice water all ready. Even saying it makes me feel righteous.
Exercise is next. Moving the chair away from the computer does not count. Thinking about vacuuming the floor does not count. Walking to the shop and having capuccino doesn't count even without the sugar crystals. Anyway walking is not an option at the moment until the feet heal. I might be able to spin another week of pathetic inactivity out of the possiblity of dangerous infection given the state of dog littered footpaths. I've seen you and your dogs, you might carry those little bags but you never pick up anything.
Looks like I might have to add a weight report to my monthy earthquake report and shame myself into losing the seasonal blubber before Greenpeace takes out a protection order on me.
I weigh 135kgs.
Still a good start to 2006. No major depression. Same level of crushing debt as 2005. Getting back to my natural food diet (chocolate is not food, it's medication). I'm thinking exercise. I've stopped being polite and hung up on four telemarketers in two days, although one doesn't count since it was a machine offering me a holiday in Florida but I swore at it anyway for practise. My mother's not annoying me, yet. I have another day out in February booked.
I'm happy. I wonder when the other boot will fall.
1984 IS LATE
I read this article at Rodney Croome's blog, saw it again at the Australian Coalition for Equality website, went to the original news article and finally printed it out to make sure I had it right. Most, if not all, couples who choose a celebrant to marry them do so because they aren't religious, don't want it in a church and want to write their own very personal vows. They want words that relate to them and how they want to live their life together. Now this stickybeak government is making sure that heterosexual marriages conform to their traditional idea of husband and wife.
I quote, "In a series of edicts to civil celebrants that overturn at least 30 years of accepted practice, the Attorney-General's Department insists couples must exchance vows only as "husband" and "wife". Celebrants must also remind everyone that "marriage, according to law in Australia, is the union of a man and a woman". Attorney-General Philip Rubbish, er, sorry, Ruddock just wants to make sure civil celebrants understand their legal obligations.
Kim Power, a celebrant and lecturer in civil ceremonies at Monash University says it's about shaping the cultural imagination. It means that every time you go to a marriage ceremony, from the time you're a flower girl to the time you're a grandmother, it will be re-inforcing the message that marriage can only occur between a man and a woman.
Under the Marriage Act, each party must take the other "to be my lawful wedded wife (or husband) or words to that effect. "Partner" could be subsituted once but not anymore. "Spouse is acceptable but partner does not necessarily signify marriage. This is according to guidelines issued in November, 2005.
Celebrants are toeing the government line in case the marriages they perform are declared invalid. They must also remind the bride and groom that "marriage, according to law in Australia, is the union of a man and a woman". The words " people" or "persons" in place of "man" and "woman" cannot be used " as this could signify two people of the same sex".
The vow "I take you as my partner in marriage" is no longer acceptable. If I was daft enough to marry again, I would be saying "I take you as my partner in life" and damn the illegality.
This goes with the government's thinking about compulsory courses before getting a marriage licence. Their thoughts of legislating compulsory counselling sessions before the 'no fault' (how long before they touch that) divorce which can only add to the trauma.
This is not just re-inforcing the idea of marriage between a man and a woman. It's the government and it's religious backers thumbing their noses at the gay community. Rubbing it in that they're 2nd class citizens again. Putting across their message that gays and lesbians can't have long lasting relationships so why bother letting them have a legal ceremony.
Once again the government is making laws, guidelines and decrees in my name without asking me. It looks like another round of letters going out and this time I hope someone has the manners to reply to this now swinging voter.
I quote, "In a series of edicts to civil celebrants that overturn at least 30 years of accepted practice, the Attorney-General's Department insists couples must exchance vows only as "husband" and "wife". Celebrants must also remind everyone that "marriage, according to law in Australia, is the union of a man and a woman". Attorney-General Philip Rubbish, er, sorry, Ruddock just wants to make sure civil celebrants understand their legal obligations.
Kim Power, a celebrant and lecturer in civil ceremonies at Monash University says it's about shaping the cultural imagination. It means that every time you go to a marriage ceremony, from the time you're a flower girl to the time you're a grandmother, it will be re-inforcing the message that marriage can only occur between a man and a woman.
Under the Marriage Act, each party must take the other "to be my lawful wedded wife (or husband) or words to that effect. "Partner" could be subsituted once but not anymore. "Spouse is acceptable but partner does not necessarily signify marriage. This is according to guidelines issued in November, 2005.
Celebrants are toeing the government line in case the marriages they perform are declared invalid. They must also remind the bride and groom that "marriage, according to law in Australia, is the union of a man and a woman". The words " people" or "persons" in place of "man" and "woman" cannot be used " as this could signify two people of the same sex".
The vow "I take you as my partner in marriage" is no longer acceptable. If I was daft enough to marry again, I would be saying "I take you as my partner in life" and damn the illegality.
This goes with the government's thinking about compulsory courses before getting a marriage licence. Their thoughts of legislating compulsory counselling sessions before the 'no fault' (how long before they touch that) divorce which can only add to the trauma.
This is not just re-inforcing the idea of marriage between a man and a woman. It's the government and it's religious backers thumbing their noses at the gay community. Rubbing it in that they're 2nd class citizens again. Putting across their message that gays and lesbians can't have long lasting relationships so why bother letting them have a legal ceremony.
Once again the government is making laws, guidelines and decrees in my name without asking me. It looks like another round of letters going out and this time I hope someone has the manners to reply to this now swinging voter.
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