Hot Wax Party

Would you believe me if I said the most relaxing thing I did this week was having my legs waxed?

It’s true.  Its one of the few things guaranteed to take my mind of my back pain for a few minutes and I actually find the slight pain associated with ripping the hairs out of my legs with warm wax kinda relaxing.  I once told one of the beauticians that I found getting my legs waxed relaxing and she looked at me like I was some sort of S&M freaker for the rest of the appointment! 

Which couldn’t be further from the truth… I don’t find pain erotic, and I can’t for the life of me understand why someone would willingly put themselves into situations to be deliberately stimulated in ways to elicit a pain response… it makes no sense!  I am pretty sure most chronic pain sufferers would agree with me…  pain just isn’t sexy.
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I bet that came from a 3AM strokey beard meeting….

Caesar never made it to Great Northern War. Β He was supposed to come, but inclement weather and not being sure if he was allowed on site, coupled with the fact that someone would have to keep an eye on him the whole time caused us to leave him at home.

Given that the original plan was that he was supposed to accompany us to GNW I had, of course, made him a suitable (suitably silly that is) outfit to attend the event.Β  Which has never seen the light of day :SΒ Β  In an equally silly mood one afternoon a few weeks later I wrote up a ‘How To Bedeck Your Best Friend in an Heraldic Outfit’ and then promptly did absolutely nothing with that either!.

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It is however, now uploaded on my website along with some very silly pictures… and can be found here should anyone be in the mood for some stuff and nonsense.

One little, Two little, Three little embryos….

Yesterday saw me back at old Dr IVF for a proper girlie swot check up after my recent trip to the ER.  He is one of the best doctors with the most accomplished bed side manner I’ve ever encountered (and I’ve met more than my fair share of quacks).  Even though I haven’t seen him in years he enquired about Mr K, BigSal and my Dad – he remembered nearly everything about me which is amazing considering how many patients he must have had in the interim.  Predictably there was an enquiry as to what my intentions are for the ten little embryos that I have in the freezer.  Every six months I have been getting a letter which asks me if I want to

A) continue storage (for a fee of course)
B) arrange an appointment to use the embryos
C) dispose of them thoughtfully or
D) donate them to another infertile couple

And every time I get one of those letters I find myself getting dredging up all the pain, sorrow and angst that I went through during all those years on IVF.  That and the horrible feelings of failure that I continually endured while riding the IVF emotional roller coaster.  Oh and the overwhelming indecisiveness about what to do with them. I can’t bring myself to flush them and as much as intellectually I’d like to donate them to some one else… how would I feel if someone else had MY baby!!!  Oi πŸ™  

I had my last FET (Frozen Embryo Transfer) I think in about Sept 2005 and I honestly can’t remember how many treatment cycles I went through in total.  We were going to discuss going back to use the remaining embryos after my father passed away in Jan 2007, but we never did and it has kinda become the elephant in the room that we don’t want to talk about.   Now my embryo dilemma has another element of difficulty thrown on top of it…. the state of my back is much much worse than it was in 2005.  If I were to opt to use the embryos and by some fucking miracle actually manage a viable pregnancy… how on earth will my back hold up to that?  Angel was born at 36 weeks because the back pain was unbearable and I can’t imagine what a viable pregnancy would do to my back now.

It’s an absolute minefield of a topic and time has not dulled it’s impact.
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Every kid needs something to rebel against – might as well be religion.

Phew!!!  We’ve almost made it through third term and so far luck has been on our side and we’ve managed to get by without being outed as Godless heathens.  I wasn’t quite sure how we were going to pull this off really but so far we seem to be slipping under the radar just nicely… either that or every other parent is as apathetic as we are towards religious education and our theologically ignorant son is fitting right in!  The kids have religious education several times a week, say Grace before lunches and prayer time every day.  His teacher tells me he often prays for "Mummy to get her back all better" and it seems to give him a little comfort to think that his little prayers to God must be helping because "God always listens to our prayers" – no mention of whether or not he ever acts on all that listening.  Ah well…God bless his cotton socks πŸ™‚  If wishing would but make it so…

Every now and then we have some mention of religion and/or God on the drive home from school and I’ve very studiously avoided either reinforcing or contradicting the God Bothering that Angel is getting at school.  These conversations usually go something like
Small Child:  "Do people go to Heaven when we die?  Is Poppa in Heaven?"
Mom usually answer something like: "Well some people believe we go to Heaven when we die, some people believe that you get reincarnated when you die which means you get born again into another whole new person and other people don’t know what to think."

So I try to answer him truthfully… it’s not hard to be creative with religious semantics when you’re conversing with a 7 year old.  I am sure he’ll make his mind up in his own good time.  Let’s just hope when he starts discovering some of the errr…. loopholes that most scientific and/or independently thinking people eventually come across, that he doesn’t cause as much trouble for his teachers as I did.

Small Child Quote of the Week:
"God is all around us and He made everything, all the flowers and the trees, and all the people and the animals…. but not the play gym – that was men made."

AUD to US to AUD = ripped off by NIEMAN MARCUS.

How fucking hard is this?

Buy a bag.  
Bag arrives dodgy – damaged packaging, damp product with mould present.
Email loosely labeled ‘Customer Service’ department.
Emails get ignored. 
Email some more people. 
Eventually call international ‘Customer Service Hotline’. 
Get someone of no authority and who was thoroughly useless. 
Try to arrange replacement.
Argue about $AU45 postage to return damaged bag.
Get assured they’ll reimburse postage on presentation of receipt. 
Find out cost of bag was credited to Visa even though replacement was requested.
Note that bag was ‘recharged’ back to Visa when replacement was dispatched. 
Australian dollar dropped from US.091c to US.082c causing significant additional cost
Email again to more so called ‘Customer Service’ representatives.
Get no response…. again
Try online ‘Customer Service Representatives’ demand to escalate problem.
Promise from people that ‘Executive Services’ would call me to discuss.
Four days later and no such phone call.

No more international shopping for me for a while.  πŸ™  Damn dollar.  and a curse on the house of NIEMAN MARCUS!!!


NB – This image is not intended as an homage
or state preference of any kind for this particular
‘artist’ but rather just a humorous depiction of the
vagaries of the international currency market! πŸ˜›