Is it a full moon or something?

I’ve seen some weird arse stuff turning up on the internet today.  I don’t know if it’s just some weird abberation where all these strange stories are coming out en masse… or maybe it’s me and I need to readdress the decision to have the Google search ‘safe search’ function turned back on….

and it seems to go on and on and on.  I think maybe I need to spend less time on the internet and get back into a good book… (I’m sure if I’d spent the last couple of hours reading the following wouldn’t have ensued :|)

borysSNORC ™ says:  http://www.theonion.com/content/news/japan_pledges_to_halt_production 
borysSNORC ™ says:  😛
Salaberge says:  About time they did something about the abuse of harmless household objects
borysSNORC ™ says:  I just love this paragraph
borysSNORC ™ says:  “The proposed new measures include a 50 percent reduction in live-eel anal insertions, and a requirement that portrayals of group sex involving seven or more individuals feature at least four human participants. Also under consideration is a zero-tolerance policy covering all “prurient uses” of colostomy bags.”

Salaberge says:  OMG   😮
borysSNORC ™ says:  I nearly fell off the chair laughing
Salaberge says:  We just saw the fish in the picture
borysSNORC ™ says:  LOL ….  we?
Salaberge says: Yeah, Mum’s been exposed to this now too BTW

borysSNORC ™ says:  Huh?  😐
Salaberge says:  lol
Salaberge says:  Mum is here reading this too

borysSNORC ™ says:  Oh so now I have to send you links with a NSFM(um) warning attached?
borysSNORC ™ says:  Ta  😐

Salaberge says:  Yep
Salaberge says:  She’s laughing tho
Salaberge says:   The live eels tickled her fancy

borysSNORC ™ says:  Seriously?  You’re kidding right?
borysSNORC ™ says:  If she’s into eel porn… i am sure Yale can flick her some links  😛

Salaberge says:   Laughing I mean
Salaberge says:   Ewww
Salaberge says:  PAW

borysSNORC ™ says:   PAW?  What?
Salaberge says:  Parents Are Watching
Salaberge says:   You’ll have to catch up when the Small Child gets online 

borysSNORC ™ says:  Oh that is so not happening until 2021   😐

Bible thumpers ahoy!

Large areas of southern Australia have been ravaged by bushfires.  There have been many lives lost, families devastated, homes gone, entire towns decimated and thousands of acres gone up in smoke.  It’s been very hard to watch this disaster unfold in the media over the last week.  I simply can not imagine the emotional devastaion these people are going through and will continue to go through over the next few months.

Which is why I can’t understand why a tragedy like this seems to bring out so many bona fide monster raving loonies.  Like these delightful God-botherers who released a media statement claiming the bushfires are God’s retribution for Victoria’s liberal abortion laws.  I mean what?  who the?  how can?  where did?   Shit.  Words escape me in this particular instance.  The complete and utter lunacy of this concept leaves me absolutely floored. 

And that wasn’t the only crazy arsed sensationialist headline I saw this week that attempts to distract from the real facts of what’s happening.  Fuckin’ Fox News must have some really bored ‘journalists’ on their payroll at the moment…

At first I thought it was a joke – a not even remotely amusing joke at that – because one should take with a grain of salt anything one sees posted on the interets.  So I went straight to the Fox News wesite to see if it was on the level… and oh my gawd – there it was.  An article about how terrorist groups might decide to use arson on a grand scale to commit mass murder.  Yay.  😐   I’d like to think that NOBODY relied on the ‘fair and balanced’ reporting of the Fox News network but… oh I’m too tired to sit here taking pot shots at Fox.

Anyway I guess if the terrorists haven’t thought about it before. I’m sure they have now…
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Twitch… Twitch…

A week or so ago I was bitching about my inability to obtain the latest Jasper Fforde novel , First Among Sequels (the next installment in the Thursday Next series) in a cover that matches the rest of the series.  Yes this stupid little thing which shouldn’t be even remotely significant on any level has the potential to piss me off every single time I look at my book case simply by destroying my (somewhat hyperactive) sense of order.  But there was a light at the end of the tunnel!!!  The gorgeous Miss Cindy Lou who is currently residing in the UK offered to send me a copy of the book as it was released over there which happened to be with a nice matching paperback pulp fiction style cover:

 
 

Yay!!! I’m to be spared from the years of annoyance of being forced into having a mismatched series!  The importance of which means my bookcase won’t be visually assaulting me at every opportunity… and I won’t start to twitch every time I look at them.  Huzzah!!! Three cheers for Miss Cindy Lou who has moved from being one of the understanding people in my life who merely tolerates my often irrational idiosyncracies to now officially being an enabler 🙂

Yesterday I drove the Small Child to school and there was a package!  Ah the book!  Here ’tis!  I opened it all excited and there was the book alright… but in the slightly larger hardcover version not the paperback version that was on the picking slip.  I emailed the distributor and pointed out the error.  They said it was mistake in the listing and they apologized for sending the wrong version of the book and have offered to refund Miss Cindy for the purchase.  However….

Borys:  Guess what?  You know the book I wanted that Cindy was sending to me?

Yale:  Yeah
Borys:  It arrived today in the mail.
Borys:  But they accidentally sent me the hardcover version.

Yale:  LOL.
Borys: They made a mistake.  They don’t even stock the paperback.
Yale:  Dang
Borys:  I got an email from the book supplier they are going to refund it.
Borys:  and I don’t have to return this copy.
..
Yale:  Well, that’s not so bad – you don’t have to send it back 🙂
Borys:  No
Borys:  But  :$

Borys: You know I’m still going to have to find a paperback copy right?

Yale:  Yeah I know  🙂
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1000 bottle of beer on the wall! 1000 bottles of beer!

I didn’t realize until about a month ago that I’ve been writing guff in this journal since June 2005.  To start with it was intended as a purgative vehicle to pour all my angsty IVF bullshit into… a suggestion from one of the nurse co-ordinator counsellor types at the IVF clinic.  Basically when you’re depressed because you can’t get up the duff… no amount of counselling is going to help because well… we know what’s making you miserable!  Being infertile sucks.  Being infertile and on IVF sucks even worse. 

But spending time crying on the shoulder of some complete stranger of a psych is ever so completely useless when there’s nothing that can be said to alter that which is causing the emotional disquiet.  Yes, they did send me to a psych at one point – her entire office was covered in pictures of her adult children and her beautiful grandchildren and their preschoolish artworks and she had absolutely no understanding whatsoever of what infertile IVF patients go through – hell she was barely able to convincingly make a pretense of empathy.  So it was a complete and utter waste of time really.


 

Instead of going back I started writing shit down in here and the only motivation for doing so was because I can type sooo much faster than I can write.  I’d like to say it was really therapeutic but I’m not so sure that is the case (for example anything related to IVF still evokes an emotional reaction… like that stupid woman with the octuplets last week) but I must have found it cathartic on some level to be able to go ‘Rah!’ all over the place so I stuck with it. 

For a long time there was no one here but me and none of my friends or family knew I was here slowing going insane talking to myself on the internet and I think the first day someone left a comment on something I wrote (some stranger from Russia) I nearly fell off my chair!  To think that somone else had been reading my crap!  Oy! I nearly deleted the whole thing there an then… I wasn’t sure I wanted people in my head, you know.  Obviously I didn’t do that and I’ve kept on posting… until here I am writing my 1000th post though I’m not convinced this is in any way significant.

I didn’t initially set out to be a blogger, join the blogging community or even to start reading other people’s blogs regularly – I didn’t even really start this one with the intention of anyone else reading it.   I should probably take a moment to apologize for the complete and utter crap that turns up on here with alarming regularity.  I’m pretty sure that I’ve not offered anything of any intrinisic value* to the world at large from being here… but here is where I still am, a couple of years later and I’ve discovered I quite enjoy spending a contemplative few minutes each day emptying some stuff out of my head and into the internets.  So the interwebs are stuck with me… for now.  🙂

*though I am led to understand this could be
  swiftly rectified by posting a picture of my breasts.

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This isn’t an episode of the Bold and the Beautiful you know.

I’ve been sleeping really poorly since ‘the incident’.  I usually take a small handful of drugs before bed… a little valium cocktail if you will, with some endep and an analgesic of the day chaser.  If I take my pills like a good little girl I’m usually lucky enough to get somewhere between five or six hours ‘unconsciousness’.  I’m totally reluctant to call that time, ‘sleep’ mostly because I certainly never wake up feeling like I’ve slept or feeling ‘refreshed’ or ‘rejuvenated’ or any of those other ‘re-‘ words which seem to be things experienced by other (painfree) peoples.  

No I’m just literally knocking myself out every night and I know that if I fail to take my handful of nightly pills I quite literally am unable to sleep AT ALL because of the pervasive pain that never leaves me alone.  What puzzles me most is how upon waking the first thing I notice is that I’m in pain… still.  Stiff, sore and still experiencing horrible pervasive pain.  How is it that I manage to stay unconscious up until that moment of waking?  Is it quite literally that the drugs are effective for X hours and Y minutes at which point they wear off and ‘ta-da I’m awake and there’s that nasty pain again’?  Or is my body somehow ignoring or not recognizing the pain in those last minutes before waking where the first tangible sensation is an awreness of pain?

I don’t know.  Every morning I wake up, roll out of bed, stand shakily up and down some different pills – there’s  big surprise – find myself blinking several times to try and clear my drug fucked over-sedated brain, stumble to the ensuite, splash some cold water on my face and attempt (often futilely) to brush my hair and make myself presentable before wandering out of my bedroom whereupon (this morning) I was greeted by Mr K thus –

"You look like shit.  Did someone hit you in the face or something?"

Sigh… thanks.  You sure know how to make a girl feel good.
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