I've moved!

Find me here at: Birch and Maple Cheers!

Like Athena From the Head of Zeus

The latest version of this blog has sprung fully formed over here. I actually still like Blogger - apart from the 'did that post?!' limbo and the whole 'you wanted to comment on another blog? You silly!' issue. Ultimately, though, I really wanted to be able to have more links into more easily changeable categories (although I can't arrange them alphabetically, which is annoying). I'm paying for what I'm doing, but hey, remember typepad does free blogs too! So...c'mon, change yer links to: Birch and Maple. And if anyone decides to change to Typepad, the import thing takes about 5 minutes to do from Blogger, easy-peasey! See you over there...

That Time Of The Month - UPDATED

For whatever reason, Blogger will not post my last two posts, hence this note here. Basically, I've moved. You can find me over at my new home at Typepad...guess it was just in time, eh? Anyway, please change your bookmarks to: Birch and Maple <------new home! Dear Customer - When I ring up your purchases and you then hand me an item that you've placed on the floor in front of the cash desk and then ask me, 'Did you get this?', the answer is going to be 'no'. That's because, see, my x-ray vision can't actually see through the desk because of the kryptonite-embalmed particleboard. And when you ask me how long it'll take for the money from your return to get back into your bank account, I can't tell you. Nor will my manager be able to, nor any other member of staff. No, we don't sell bibles. No, we don't know how long your special order will take to get to the store, because, as we explained, we don't technically do orders, we just call the other stores and they send the items to us, if they have them in stock. Honest, we're not lying to you. And yes, when you're answering your phone or completely ignoring the sales person when they're, say, trying to tell you how much your purchase costs, you are being rude. No, I can't sign your credit card slip for you. And yes, when I'm staring at you, with only your bagged goods, a pen, and a credit card slip between us - that means you're supposed to sign the slip. I think it's a good thing I've got this next week off, don't you?

This Just In! - uodated!

According to The Sun, there's a $60 million shortfall in NHS Grampian, who includes all the hospitals within Aberdeen. Welp, it turned out to only be $25 million. Apparently, the nurses have been holding tag sales and selling books in the hospitals to patients and their families. Not for charity, no. It's to pay for staff training. I'll leave you with that, shall I?

The Genius Of Language

I'm reading this totally cool book, The Genius of Language: 15 Writers Talk About Their Mother Tongues, and that got me to wondering about you, dear readers. I've had many years of French, a semester of Italian, four years of Latin, plus bits and bobs of self-study in Arabic, Greek, and, ahem, Sindarin and Quenya, etc. Anyway, I've always been a person who wished they could speak more than one language (and I'm not talking about Desperanto, either), and have always been impressed by people who were fluent in two or three or more languages. What I want to know, however, is if any of you know more than one language. Which one is your mother tongue? Why did you decide to learn the other language? Was a secondary language taught as standard in your school? Did you move to a new country without knowing any of the language, and just throw yourself into learning it? Do you find one or another language easier to express yourself in? Do you you ever get frustrated by the inability of other people to speak in your mother tongue? Have you ever felt stupid or been made to feel ashamed of not speaking another tongue? I'm just a curious fool, what can I say!

Monday Morning Blahs

I'm feeling better today. I think much of that's because I got my period yesterday and have so far only had a couple of palps this morning. And none last night. I didn't play WoW yesterday and my back is thanking me for it today. I've fixed my broken urls on the right, and added two new blogs: Hard Boiled: A Donor Egg blog (nothing to do with John Woo or Chow Yun Hot. Uh, Fat. Chow Yun Fat. Yeah, that's it...) and Within the Woods Somehow or another in my last retrofitting, I'd left Julianna off the list! Bad me. No wonder I've been thinking that I've been missing someone for the past few weeks. Band alert: Do Me Bad Things. They look like the Scissor Sisters, but sound a much rockier edge, less disco, more kick ass. Check out their video for their new tune, What's Hideous (links in the 5th or 6th paragraph). Here's Time For Deliverance on virgin.net.

More Random Blogginess

1) thank you all for the advice. Re: cold fingers, sweaty pits, er, that's actually my normal state, nothing unusual I'm afraid! It could be 90F outside and my fingers'll be cold...I used to walk up a steep, mile-long hill to work in the dead of winter. By the time I got to the building I'd be sweaty and flushed, while my gloved fingers would just be starting to feel warm. I know, I'm weird. 2) Click on the link at just below the headlines of this page. As people who takes lots of meds, I think we all deserve the laugh. And it's work-safe (the word 'sex' does appear, though). 3) Dawn could use some support. She's in a tres sucky situation. 4) I'm watching series 4 of 24 and can I just say, how gorgeous is Shohreh Aghdashloo? And the voice - oy! She was in House of Sand and Fog, among other movies, and I hear she was very good. I didn't see it as I'm not an Oprah Book Club fan (to say the least), but now I'm thinking of checking it out...

What To Do About Anxiety?

Seriously. I don't know about you all, but I've always been a very anxious person, and now with these constant (for the sake of simplicity I'll say 'constant', although what I mean is that they happen all throughout the day and evening) heart palps it's ratcheted up to a whole new level. I mean, hell, I'm watching Futurama and on the verge of tears, how wrong is that? What I need to know is what you do about anxiety. How do you handle it? What do you do? I'm feeling like I'm falling down this spiral of depression, or maybe it's been here all along and I just haven't noticed it, like I'm trapped and there's just no way out. Any advice would be greatly appreciated. And no, I don't want to tell Mr Oro, because I don't think he can help and I don't want to add on to his plate. Before I forget, anyone else experience freezing fingers and toes and goosebumps coupled with a flushed face and sweating armpits?

Why I Now Hate Dove

Not the pigeons (y'know doves are pigeons, right? They're just prettier), but the bodycare range. I hate them for their new commercial, which is all about the skin. We see freckled skin and scarred skin and pregnant, oh-so-very pregnant skin - in an ad with about 14 young women, at least half are pregnant. Wearing their underwear. Cuz, see, it's all about the skin. This now rates up there with tampon ads and air freshener ads, expecially the ones with little kids on toilets going, Ew, something's stinky in here! Cuz I really want to see that while I'm eating my dinner.

Random Things - updated

1) I just got a letter in the mail - there's now a 6 month waiting list for review appointments from the diabetic clinic. So unless lots of people cancel their appointments, I won't be seeing Dr Research until...September. 2) There was a kestrel in my back garden! I still can't get over it! It must have seen the pigeons, sparrows, robins, bulfinches, and blackbirds milling around the feeders and thought to itself, Breakfast! 3) still having palps, but they've calmed down quite a bit - yeah, sure they have. I've got an appointment with my GP (heretofore known as Dr E, as that's her name) on Friday, although I might cancel if they stop conmpletely by then. 4) the diarrhea has gone away, but the stomach cramps remain - wrong on that point too. I'm still quite tired, having slept for 9 hours Thursday night (I was too tired to read!), and 5 last night. I hope ye olde periode arrives tomorrow, although I am in doubt. Seeing as I have to work the next 6 days straight, it seems only right that I should get it on the first day of work for the week as well. 5)My back still hurts, although not as bad as it was earlier in the week. I'm Warcrafting a lot less (from lack of interest as well - yay depression), which is certainly helping. I hope it goes away soon. 6) the depression and teariness continue. Don't know why. 7) I'll fix Mare, Go Fug Yourself, and Pamplemoussey's links soon.

Boggling: 1 Mind: 0

How to combine extreme sports with housework. Ladies and gents, I give you: Extreme Ironing If that doesn't do it for you, why not try some Urban Housework?

Oy.

I now know how you lose weight taking Metformin - it's the damned diarrhea. And I've only taken two pills...

I'll Take The Malaise, With A Side Order Of Angst

I wish Mr Oro were home today. I generally feel better with him around. Today has been a crying kind of day, no matter the subject. I'm cold, but I refuse to turn the heat on (we have it on 2x a day, in the morning and evening) as I see no reason to heat a house just because my fingers and feet are like icicles. I've picked up - not that it makes a difference - made a half-assed stab at organizing a birthday box for my mother, am still contemplating refluffing my sofa cushions and vacumming the floor (remember I was going to do that last week?). Let us not forget the wad of pantyhose currently soaking in my sink, the bras on the bathroom floor that need washing, the general feeling of 'holy crap I hope no one wants to come into the house'. Let me tell you, I dread the days that the window cleaners show up. Yesterday I spent, oh, about $500. $200 of that was on compost (6 bags of organic compost, peat free, 50L per bag), 4 large glazed ceramic pots in cobalt blue, sea green, and dark red, and 3 lavenders, for a delivery charge of only $35, ha ha. I bought a shirt for work and 10 pairs of pantyhose (black, 15 denier, ladder resist) for $40, took $50 out of the atm for cash, bought a nice amethyst ring for $12, topping the day off with another 3 month bus pass at $250. So much for last month's financial surplus. And I still have to buy bird seed this month. Finally, I'm afraid to eat. I can cross apple and elderflower juice off my list of okay foods, and milk might be next on the list. Not that i drink a lot of milk, but, there ya go. Maybe in a few weeks I'll retest. Oh, I'm sad, sad, sad today. I do things, like laundry and cooking, and it seems to make no difference. Sure, I like the way it looks, but that only lasts for so long. Y'know, Dr Phil is perhaps not the right person for me to be listening to right now. He's doing some show on addictions and accountability. He's not even talking to me or about me and I feel guilty about being fat. You have to admit, that takes some doing, to assume a talk show host is talking about your whit. As far as I'm aware I'm not addicted to anything (besides blogging, obviously). And yet. I haven't decided wether or not I'm going to go do some Warcrafting or watch a movie or refluff or just stay in front of the tv. I can't say I hate my life, because I don't, but boy, I sure don't feel particularly enamoured of it right now, either.

Today's Mood: Mildly Depressed

Just took my first pill and am experiencing some mild stomach cramps, the kind that feel like you're just gassy. I ate a little less than normal, just in case, y'know, dinner comes up again. I took this test and got the following results: Oddly advanced: 26% beginner, 20% intermediate, 87% advanced, 72% expert. Maybe it's me, but that makes no sense at all.

How's This For Sweet

One of my former work colleagues dreamed she'd won the lottery, and gave me $40K so I could do IVF. And the other day, another said she wished she could do something to help. How can I let them know that just being able to talk about it is help enough?

Thunderbolt And Lightfoot

Speak not of the movie, but of the real history of these two. Chances are I've driven by the only round schoolhouse in the US, the one ol' Thunderbolt used to teach. Neat, eh? In other news, ye olde heart palpitations have continued. Which is a) annoying, b) unpleasant, and c) still scary. What I hate most is that I get so anxious and tense about getting them, which makes it even more unpleasant and scary. Just a vicious cycle, I know. So far the list of foods which don't seem to be triggers include: beef pork chicken sausages (so far) cabbage cauliflower apples carrots leeks lettuce cheddar mayonnaise butter olive oil creme fraiche/sour cream Foods that are probably triggers include: grapefruit juice thai style chicken things (processed deli chunks, yum) eggs - will have to test in another few weeks Blah. I've noticed that with the exception of eggs, I rarely eat the foods that seem to be triggers. I'm not a big tomato eater, because by the third bite of a raw tomato, my mouth starts to taste coppery. Cooked toms taste like that from the start, but since I usually eat them with other foods, spiced and herbed, I can ignore it. At my peril, it would now appear. Ditto for potatoes (which I've never really liked anyway) and eggplants and bell peppers. Makes ya wonder. And I've got this backache that simply will. not. quit. Most of this is due to the crappy seat I have for playing WoW, with a little bit stemming from the things I do in my sleep that exacerbate my pulled trapezius muscles in the first place. All my stress goes into my back and shoulders, and I pull one or the other trapezius muscle oh, every 6 weeks or so. It's not anything unusual. However, coupled with the palps, and hours and hours of folding towels and shifting curtains and carrying heavy bags out to customers cars...I'm a-hurtin'. Mere Ibuprofen (which, ha ha, also triggers palps) and aspirin aren't doing diddly. So now, the question is, do I just go see Dr Elliot and do the Holter moniter thing and get stronger painkillers? And if so, will that influence what the IVF clinic does (call me paranoid, but at this point I'm taking no chances)? I'm off to the dietician's tomorrow, so I'll go ahead and ask her (or whoever I see). Which reminds me, I'm getting my Met prescription tomorrow, too. Good thing I've got Thursday off, eh? Oh, and I think I might have offended the hell out of another blogger. I hope not. However, I do feel what was said needed to be said. I think sometimes it's all to easy forget the good things that we have in our lives right now when we live on Infertility Island. I am torn, because while I want to believe that infertility doesn't define me, every now and then, it so does. Depends on the day, really. Other times I feel like a poseur, as I haven't actually had any treatments or injected anything. Been probed, dildo-camed, and HSG'd, but hey, gods forbid anyone should try and and prescribe me some shit! I'm not, y'know, a real infertile, despite trying for 7 years. Hey - am I sounding defensive here?? Am I trying to stave off possibly unpleasant comments or another storm on the island by sharing my experiences of infertility because of what I posted on that other blog? I think I am. Hmm. I'll shut up now and let the chips fall where they may. Oh, I'm not going to post the url of the other blog (although the owner of said blog is more than welcome to respond to this post or my comments either here or on her own blog) because I don't want any spats - not that I think you would want to create them, mind, I just don't anyone to think I need defending or trying to explain what you think I really meant to say. I did mean what I said. I'm just not sure it was appropriate for me to say it at this particular moment in time.

And Then For Dinner I Had...

...Italian sausage by Sainsbury's and a small head of cauliflower. It's similar, but different to US style Italian sausage. Still, it's better than the regular sausages you get over here, which is this greasy paste in a casing. You can get good sausages, with the consistency of Jimmy Dean or Italian sausage, but you do have to pay for them. And they don't do anything remotely like spicy American breakfast sausage, alas. Or Kielbasa, for that matter, wth is up with that?! Anyway, about 10 minutes of eating my sausages, I had a palp - it was of normal strength, but I haven't had any since, so, fingers crossed. Kris' blog had this cool thing to do: Open up a book to page 123 find the 5th sentence down post the next three sentences But with the thinning game, and no rescue ship yet on the horizon, they began to ration supplies. It was Galle's idea to break out one box of bread and issue two pieces a day to each person. In this way, one box would last them twenty days. from Ada Blackjack:A True Story of Survival In The Arctic, by Jennifer Niven (who also wrote the fabulous The Ice Master: The 1913 Doomed Voyage of The Karluk).

Oh, Hell If I Know

Wtf is going on with me. I was so pleased to have figured out part of the equation the other day, and then today, after a breakfast of scrambled eggs with garlic and parsley, it started happening again! I'll cross eggs off the list - as a low-carber I eat a lot, a lot, a lot of eggs, and I have mucus issues with them, so it wouldn't surprise me if I were intolerant of them entirely. Either that, or it's the garlic. Which is a horrifying thought. I'm a quarter eye-talian, for gods sakes. Anyway...that's the report for this afternoon. If it continues beyond the week, I'll go back to my GP and do that Holter monitor thing - although I'll bet you by the time I get fitted for it, the palps will have stopped. Meh.

Hmm. Veddy Interestink.

After pondering Danae's comment and then eating a dinner of sausages, cabbage, with a few filched steak fries from Mr Oro's plate, I went upstairs to play some WoW. And lo, what do you think happened then? Why yes, palpitations galore. About 10 years ago I heard rumours of my favorite English professor (aka The Best English Professor Ever)having to go to the hospital, practically on her deathbed. A few months on, I heard that it was all down to allergies. Specifically, allergies to the deadly nightshade family. Hmm. Things I have been eating a lot of lately while ill: squash and ginger soup (so not homemade it's not even funny) tomato soup eggplant salad tomato soup cheese potato chips juice tomato soup chocolate What, you ask, is in the deadly nightshade family? How about these: tomatoes white potatoes chili, cayenne, paprika, pimiento, and bell peppers eggplant tobacco I think you can see where I'm going, here. Well! Enter yet another elimination diet...by the bye, it's also recommended that you avoid these foods if you suffer from any kind of arthritis. Oh, here's a great list and good info on the nightshade family.

WTFF?!?!

Oh, I'm sorry, how exactly the hell does this help stamp out rape and pedophilia?

Must You Stare At Me?

Really, what's the deal with doctors staring at you while you try not to cry? I mean, can't they at least pretend to spare your dignity and look the fuck away? So I go see my GP yesterday, as Dr Director told me to do last Monday, for my Metformin prescription. Except, of course, the motherfucking prick hadn't sent it yet. That's Dr Director, not my GP, for whom I still haven't come up with a name. I was thinking of Dr-Been-Pregnant-Three-Times-While-I've-Known-Her, but thtat's obvuously too long to type, and I'd forget what the hell the acronym meant immediately after I posted, so for now, she'll remain 'my GP'. Maybe I'll call her Dr Nice(but occasionally dim). She is nice, and compassionate, and has one of those motherly figures that you just want to hurl yourself onto and sob. Afterwards she'd give you a hug and tell you to go out and play, y'know? Anyway, I can't stop crying. At least my eyes couldn't stop leaking, not on the way to the bus stop, not on the bus, not in the bookstore. By the time I got on the bus to work I was...okay. I popped a homepathic Blues remedy and if my day didn't exactly improve, it wasn't horrible, either. Apart from the heart palpitations. Now, I've had these palpitations since I was 14 and only one doctor, my first (and horrible) gyne visit. Don't ask me about the anal probe, that's all I'm sayin'. In any case, I went for years without worrying about them all that much. I noticed that they were most frequent around ovulation, and again when I dosed up on the Ibuprofen on day one of my period. Then, about 3-4 years ago, I got palps every couple of minutes for about 3 weeks. This completely freaked me out and I went to see my GP, who immediately asked all the heart attack questions (tightness in chest, dizzyness, etc), of which I had none. I got sent some test, which of course showed nothing, and sent on my merry way. I cut back on the amount of water I was drinking, cut out the tea and the coffee and the chocolate and the sugar and the exercise and various other things, and eventually everything calmed down and I went back to my usual schedule. Since then, I've discovered that there's an ingredient in chocolate, coffee, black tea, paracetamol, and some processed foods that will trigger the palpitations. It's not caffeine, either, because I can eat or drink things with caffeine in them and not get the palps. I can't remember what the ingredient is, but it's natural to chocolate, tea, and coffee. I find that it happens most quickly if I eat strong chocolate or drink coffee made from a cafetiere (I'm fine with drip coffee), all of which is leading up to the past few days, when I started getting the palpitations while walking to and from my bus stop. I'm fine at work, fine at home, fine in the grocery store, but on my to and from home - ! I don't know if it's just all the stress, the fact that I ovulated yesterday, my chocolate binge from Saturday (and it wasn't even good chocolate), or what, but I'm tired and scared of this now. It's not painful, it's more like, it's kind of like a heart hiccough (oo, look, she goes all proper spelling). I feel it in the hollow of my throat first, and then the heart kind of...loses rhythm for a milisecond. It's the kind of thing that by the time you recognize and realize what's happening, it's over. Anyone else experience this, or have any advice?

'Struth!

I love that Aussie-ism. It's short for 'god's truth', and since there seems to be a god talk around lately, I thought I'd join the party from a Pagan perspective. I speak for myself only, of course, as other pagans probably have different ideas on the matter. Here's the funny thing: paganism as a whole is seen by many as a fertility cult. I know. Hilarious. And yet...while we celebrate fertility, we also celebrate death and rebirth, that whole hoary cliche about the cycle of life. For some people, Eostre/Easter is the most important time of the year. Others find that Samhain/Halloween, or Yule/Christmas has most meaning. For what it's worth, I fall into the latter group. Actually, I really only celebrate two times of the year, the summer and winter solstices, as the deity(ies) I worship have no set rituals. My primary deity is a goddess, one who, ha ha, has no children. One of her titles, however, is kourotrophos, Nurse of children. One of her main duties was to protect women in labor and the subsequent baby and toddler. I don't take this as a sign of my future, but merely a coincidence. The other two dieties are gods, both of whom are worshipped for their fertility. I don't ask them to make my dreams come true (although that would be nice!). I ask them to help me reach a state of grace about my infertility, no matter what happens. I don't ask them why I'm infertile - not seriously, I don't angst about that aspect of it, I accept that some of the roads in life that I walk are far harder than I ever thought they would be, that seems to be normal for me. I want their help in getting through it, in moving on, in dealing, if you will. Perhaps that's just down to my character, I don't know. It's just that when I read other peoples posts about god, there's a fundamental difference that I can't quite put my finger on. Of course, maybe they do the same thing, but they're just not writing about it in the same way...? Again, I don't know. Having said all that, I do feel this weird pressure, probably down to no one but myself, that my fellow pagans are having a love affair with fertility...I don't know how to describe it. I guess I feel that if I were to bring the subject up, I'd get patronized, and I'm not sure how I could handle that without either crying or bitchslapping someone. I've not had any comments from online, but still...I'm wary. And now, I have to go to work. More ruminations later...maybe...

Your Questions Answered

The Barreness wondered: b) 1) What is the one thing you want to do before you die? Get published, dammit! 2) What is the one PLACE you want to visit before you die? Alaska 3) What is your favorite blogging wine? Organic. Also, I like shiraz and zinfandel. Or, y'know, whatever happens to be around. Even Boone's Farm, which doesn't really qualify as being a wine so much as an alcoholic soda... Scully mused: b.1. Will you ever move back to the States? Yes! We were planning on moving back 'after the children', but at this point it might not be for years and years. Wah. b.2. What is your favourite tv show ever? The X Files - yeah baby yeah! b.3. What is our dream job? Being a published, PAID writer! Ameyesq pondered: Also curious as to where (as in what region) you are looking to do your IVF. I'd prefer to be in New England, cuz then I could drive to and from home, but really, it's down to anywhere that'll take me. Journeywoman71 asked: 1) Star Trek or Star Wars? Why? Star Wars, baby! Which isn't to say that I wasn't a huge ST fan, I was...but it's very small in scope, without that Classic Heroism (of which the XF also partakes) that I love. I think Scott Bakula was completely the wrong person to play the Captain in Enterprise, that ST:TNG was too wishy-washy, and that Voyager was fatally flawed by bad writing and too big a crew. DS9 was really the only show besides the original that was worth the effort putting in to it, although they were NOT the creators of the story arc, no need to put your hands up J Michael Stracynski. 2) Who are your favorite authors? Uh, I'll give you my top, uh, list, for today: Jane Austen - sheer brilliance. You can call it domestic drama if you want, but studying her writing changed my life and my relationships forever. CJ Cherryh - Writes aliens like no one else I know. Not even David Brin. An incredibly intricate and detailed writer, she creates languages for her aliens. If you like SF but haven't tried her work, I highly recommend the Chanur Saga or the Morgaine Saga, one of the most non-romantic romances I have ever read. Utterly believable, gorgeous writing, political (but not as bad as, say, Cyteen). Merchanter's Luck is a good start to the Alliance-Union universe, and The Dreaming Tree is a great Celtic fantasy. Oh, I could go on. No, really, I could. Tanith Lee - I have no words to describe her work. Luscious, dark, erotic, macabre, morbid, funny, romantic, fantastic, sensual, decadent, bizarre - she's the writer people like Anne Rice can barely conceive of being. She write fantasy, science-fantasy, science fiction, childrens books, fairy tales...I just can't do her justice, nor can Victoria Strauss (another fab author) in her review of The Silver Metal Lover, and here's a fan website of her works. For an intro to her work, try these books, the anthologies Dreams of Dark And Light, Tamastara, Red As Blood(or Tales From the Sisters Grimmer), the novels Night's Master (first in the series, all are standalones), The Birthgrave, and Biting the Sun (comp of Don't Bite the Sun and Drinking Sapphire Wine), to name but a few. Maureen McHugh - unbelieveably emotional writing. It's plotless, but, really, you just don't care. Check out Mission Child and the stunning Nekropolis. She has Hodgkins Lymphoma - which also killed Martyn Bennett. Lois McMaster Bujold - gourmet popcorn, a wonderful hero (Peter Dinklage from The Station Agent is Miles Vorkosigan), fab writing, and great action. Check out her complete Hugo winning story The Mountains of Mourning on Baen's website, although if you're feeling sensitive, this story's not for you. That's all I can come up with at this late hour... 3) Who is the scariest villian in fiction Pennywise, from Stephen King's It. I swear to god I have not looked at clowns the same way since.

What I Should Be Doing

Because I feel like such a slacker at the moment, blogging about utter crap, I hereby present the list of things I could/should be doing instead of said blogging: vacuuming the living room - I have a cream carpet. 'nuff said. picking up in my bedroom - y'mean those books I've read actually have a home? wiping down the kitchen - it's just a bit messy, nothing major tackling the spare room - since we got free insulation from the council a couple of weeks ago, we had to take everything out of the attic. This includes a couple of boxes of videos, lots and lots and lots of boxes of books, and all of the flooring. We put the flooring back up, but all the books are still in the room. I have to go through all of them and see what's to stay and what's to go, then put them all back upstairs. And yet, here I sit. Y'know, I've never realized how many of the early Jackson 5 hits sounded exactly like each other. Oh Michael, how did it all go so wrong?

Oh Baby, Give Me One More Chance

Since I don't have to leave for work until 2, I've got a few hours to kill, which is being filled by blogging, reading, and watching the snow fall as well as wondering what the hell my neighbors are getting delivered to their house....looks like gardening/bird supplies. Anyway, while waiting for Judge Judy, I flipped on to MTV and watched about 3 minutes of The Real World. Now, I remember when the first Real World showed, oh those many years ago, and one of my roommates, Amy D, just had to watch it all the time. Of course she also had to watch Ricki Lake (clam), while I and our other roommate, Amy C, were dedicated Springer fans. And they'd mock me when I stayed home Friday nights to watch the X Files. More fools them. But gosh, these people on the Real World just seem so...juvenile. I won't say it's like they don't have real problems, because some of them most obviously do, and yet...I dunno. They don't seem insurmountable. In many cases it seems like a change of attitude would do, if you know what I mean. I flipped around, and have, wonderfully, landed on MTVDance, which is currently showing the History of Dance 1970-2005. What makes this totally is cool is that the show started off with the Jackson 5, and is moving through some of the classics - can't wait for SLy and the Family Stone! Ah, the days of my childhood...

Pamplemoussey

Where your blog at??

Jon Stewart On Blogging

Heh heh (quicktime) I can't remember who originally mentioned this on their blog, but having seen the trailer, I'm totally creeped out.

Thank God For TV

Because in the medical drama I'm watching right now, a girl who was raped and had an abortion is laying the guilt on her mom, who's had 3 failed IVFs, saying, 'You already have a child, aren't I good enough? You just want a baby with your new husband!' You just can't win, can you?

Human After All

I am listening to the latest cd by a huge (French) band in the Dance industry. It's been a couple of years since their last cd, and I can guarantee that you've all heard at least bits of their last cd, as it featured heavily in some commercials by a certain clothing brand. It's not actually being released until the end of next month (I sense someone's a-gonna get fired at the studio). Yes, I do feel guilty...but I'm listening to it anyway. It's hard to judge on the basis of two songs, but it does continue on from, say, the first 4 songs of their last cd. Still, though, who's to say that this is really the final version of their new cd (which I will be buying)? * * * * * * * * * * * * * I have the weekend off, which is nice. I have eaten some bread, and some candy, and now I feel extraordinarily tired. Of course, I didn't sleep very well, either, and got up at 7:30AM because I just didn't see the point of lying in bed any more. I'm still sick. I got some seed catalogs, which are always interesting, but I mourn for the catalogs I got back home. They don't have any zones in this country, so unless you're an experienced gardener you just don't know whether or not something's going to survive the year. I need bags and bags and bags of potting soil as well as digging implements and pots and bloody manpower. My front yard is laid to brick and gravel, but the weeds - apart from one winter pansy - punch through the gravel and the anti-weed mat underneath it as if they weren't even there. There are some pretty weeds, though, wildflowers that I'd like to keep, and the birds certainly like to have a wander and search for edibles. How the hell do I get rid of pigeons?? More and more of them keep showing up, even though i no longer put seed on the ground. The grass underneath the feeders is completely bare from where they run around, and I'm wondering if maybe planting some shrubbery might help? * * * * * * * * * * * * * I've been catching up on a few blogs that I stopped reading last year, and I'm glad for those whose pregnancies are going well, and saddened for those who have lost babies and who have received bad news after bad news. I hope 2005 is better for all of us. * * * * * * * * * * * * * The Barrenness said, in answer to my previous post: (a) I want you to recommend one of each to me: 1. Hide and Seek; Sideways Oh, I'm desperate to see Sideways...but of course have missed it. 2. The Once and Future King by T. H. White; Jitterbug Perfume by Tom Robbins Loved TOFAFK, and Mallory's Morte D'Arthur, too. I've tried Tom Robbins, but I don't care for him. (b) 1) What is the one thing you want to do before you die? Be a published author. 2) What is the one PLACE you want to visit before you die? I'd love to visit either Alaska or Siberia. The wild calls to me. 3) What is your favorite blogging wine? Organic. Seriously, I've bever been a huge fan of wine, until I started getting the organic stuff. It just tastes so much better, without that awful bite in the back of your throat afterwards. As for variety, at the moment we're really into Shiraz. (c) If it feels like you're banging your head against a wall, you probably are. Stop and find an alternate route. Nothing good comes from braining yourself. Truer words were never spoken. Reminds me of what I think writer's block is - if I'm stuck on something, that means what I want to do isn't what's correct for the story. Oo, look, snow...remember that scene in The Mummy when they see the sandstorm coming? Well, that's what this snow looks like as it's blowing in. There's bright sunshine over my house and about a mile away, and the snow looks like smoke on the horizon. After this current squall, I'm off to go play WoW. I'm more used to games like Snood (buy it, it's worth it!), minesweeper, and Popcap, but now that we have a third edition to our computer family, Charity - oh, it's more hail that snow...no, wait, here come the big fluffy flakes - so this is my first time playing an MPG. I like it. Besides, it provides a great distraction from, like, life. And I get to be a skinny, yet buxom, elf.

Some Questions For Y'all

Courtesy of Journeywoman71: (a) I want you to recommend one of each to me: 1. A movie 2. A book 3. A musical artist, song or album (b) I want everyone who reads this to ask me three questions, no more, no less. (c) I want you to give me the best advice you think that you have to give to me. (d) Copy and paste this into your journal like i did, and see what kind of responses you get!

Mommy Mayhem, Or, My Mommy'll Kick Your Mommy's ASS!

What with all the hooha about that Newsweek article, I've been reading with interest the opposing points of view. I ran across a post on Geeky Mom, and had plans to respond here. Then I read this, and damn her if she hasn't already said what I was going to say. Hmph. One her her later and latest posts links to this article in Elle, which I find really fascinating. Except for one bit. Who says you have to be like this? What prevents women from just saying, Fuck you and your goddamned Tupperware/Fredericks Of Hollywood/Desperate Housewives parties! My kids won't die horrible deaths because I choose to take a 2 hour bubble bath instead of watching fucking Barney! Maybe it's because I grew up poor, and still consider myself poor (I'm only 'wealthy' because of my mother and my husband and that they have attained, to my mind, I myself have very little, with no savings and working in a minimum wage job), that doing these things for my children, or driving myself crazy trying to keep up with the Joneses, seems utterly ridiculous to me. Of course I base this upon the way I grew up, and I was a natural reader, a child who spent long periods of time with only herself for company, and thus was forced to entertain herself. Being poor helped, too. I went to summer camp, I went to horse-riding camp, I went to the library a lot, I got to play flute in band in school (before the music programs started being cut, natch). I dunno. I just feel like there's an assumption that all mothers are like this, that all mothers feel like this, and I simply don't believe that's true. D'y'know what? Ultimately I think this is a class issue. I don't think anyone would disagree that creches and in-expensive day care isn't a great thing, and wouldn't it be fab if we could do it in the US, but nobody likes to think of the practicalities of this. There's a reason why European countries can afford these things, and it's called Incredibly High Tax Rates (Britain is like the US in this regard) - Mr Oro thinks they're on order of around 40%. I gotta tell ya, that sounds like a hell of a lot to minimum-wage earning me. Hell, I couldn't afford to live on my own back home when I was working full time at a decent wage! I can't seem to articulate how I feel about all of this. I ramble on and on with verbal diarrhea, yet all I can come up with is, Pottery Barn People! I guess it's harder to worry about what other people think when I'm too worried about making the next mortgage payment, or wondering whether there's enough food in the fridge.

Need Truck Insurance?

Hello, Insurance! I'm glad you found my blog, although, to be honest, I have no idea if my blog is what you were looking for, or, indeed, that there was so much need for a blog about truck insurance. Stop on by anytime!

Pah.

What's worse, there's no way I can actually finish my bottle of wine and still get up and be coherent for work in the ay-emm. Dammnit.

Post. People, Post!

Entertain me, dammnit! It's way past my bedtime, I'm sitting on two beanbags next to Mr Oro (who's playing with the latest PC, Charity, doing Linux-y things), typing away on Faith and eyeing the dregs of wine in my glass, and wondering not only in amazement at my lack of typos thus far, but how the fuck I can actually be drunk on two glasses of wine (or pf qinee, as originally spelled), and hoping against fucking fuck that the long-assed post - complete with links that took me ages to find (Google, how thou hast failed me) - that it's taken me nigh unto two hours to write, has actually posted. Damn you, Blogger!

The Little Red Schoolhouse

It's true. I spent 1st and 2nd grade in a one room, little red schoolhouse. Here's a picture of it as it looks now. On an aside, here's a house I used to see almost every day. It was a working farm, then, but now it's just a B&B. Still want it, though. Hey, I just found an interview with the founder and head teacher of the school, Claire Oglesby! She was an exceptional teacher, and a marvelous woman, to boot. Let me return to yesteryear, however. Mom and I had just moved to the area (I feel really stupid asking this, but how the hell do I link to an archived post on my own blog? I can't seem to bring up the post on it's own...I feel stupid. And that's not just the wine talking) and I remember coming up to this long, one storey red building just off the main road. There were kids playing in huge the field to the right, and while I don't recall the interview I had with Claire, I do remember running onto that field and learning that the game being played was something called 'soccer', and that I should just follow 'that guy'. On first appearance, the front of the school is very unprepossessing. There's a dirt, half-moon parking lot, and then the school itself - a low building clapboarded and painted red, with the typical fire-safe door, and two narrow windows on either side of it. Walking in, you're in the school (it's been remodeled since, now going up to grade 3 or 4, I believe!). I think Claire and the other teachers had an office immediately on the left, and then there were two toilets, but the majority of the space was completely open. I recall 2-3 very long bookshelves, children's desks that were also in two rows feeding off the bookshelves, and in the far right-hand corner, a 'nook'. It was a book nook, with two storeys, and soft cushions on both levels. I remember reading aloud in there, and being told to be quiet by a couple of children on the upper level. And so I learned to read silently. Oo, check it out, here's an inside piccy of the school taken during a project on China - the Great Wall in the bottom pic leads to the nook. Next to the book nook was the blackboard (a real one) which ran the width of the building, from nook to windows. The windows themselves spanned the back length of the building, overlooking the rear playing fields and the forested mountain beyond. There were tables underneath the windows, but I don't remember what else was next to them. We did do the chrysalis-in-the-jar thing, though, keeping it on the sill itself until one day, the magic happened and a butterfly emerged. Behind the school was a swingset, a set of monkey bars, a swing bar, and a sandbox. Besides the playing field and the forest, that was our playground, and oh, did we love it. I should mention that the rest of town is a blink-and-you-miss-it kind of place, just your typical New England town. Not all of town kids went to the schoolhouse - plenty were shipped to the blue school up on the mountain behind the schoolhouse, which catered for kids up to grade 5, I think, or over to the central school. I only went there for three months. Apparently I came home and told me mother I wasn't going back, and she said 'okay', transferring me to this school for the rest of 3rd grade. Word of advice - never send your child to a school run by parents. When I lived there, there were no restaurants (I doubt there are any now, actually), just a General Store someone ran out of their farmhouse (I think there was a gas pump outside?), a grange, a church, and a small library. The central school was okay. Or at last as okay as any mixed race kid can be when faced with ignorance and people whose social graces stem from about 1954. In any case, the little red schoolhouse is where we all dream of sending our children. It was friendly, child-centered. The teachers there wanted to bring out the best for the children who attended, and I can say that for myself, I reaped the benefits. Curiosity was encouraged, as well as learning by the examples of others. We went on lots of field trips, too. We went to a farm and a horse tried to eat my hair. Went to another farm, one where they had sheep - one where they slaughtered sheep, too - and we came back with a bladder that we blew up and used as a balloon, like they did in 'olden times'. We used it for three days, until the smell was too bad. I also recollect bringing home a sheep' skull and going at it with a knife on the picnic table, but I don't know if that's for real or just some completely bizarre imagining of my own. Chances are it's the latter, but hey, ya never know...It was during some film during class that I learned how to tie my shoelaces, and the beginnings of my 'issues' with math after getting incredibly frustrated at not figuring out the answer to 'if you multiply something by zero, what is the answer?'. I remember taking an IQ test. When my mother wanted to punish me she'd keep me home from school. Sometimes it was so cold in the winter that the school bus wouldn't run. We didn't have a telephone, so we'd have to trudge back up the hill to home. Gods, I miss living there. Anyhoo, the little red schoolhouse was but the first in a series of schools that I was lucky, fortunate, priviledged, serendipitous enough, to attend. I managed to start off in a brilliant place, went through both good and bad schools, both public and private, and, funnily enough, ended up graduating from one of the finest liberal arts colleges in the world. Nay, the universe. One which, amazingly, perfectly reflected the ideals of Claire Oglesby, even though it was founded in the 1940's. But those are stories for other posts.

Why??

Goddamnit. One of my very favorite musicians in the world has died. Martyn Bennett was brilliant, a talented musician who brought Scotland's traditional music into the electronic age, mixing and playing and singing and quite frankly, making extraordinary sounds. You can forget Mouth Music and Afro Celt Sound System and even, dare I say it, Capercaillie - no one compares. There are mp3's on his website from his albums, and several full downloads (Cowboy Fashion is hilarious), although they smilar to Harland in technique. I highly recommend starting with his self-titled cd, Martyn Bennett, and then moving on to Bothy Culture and Grit, and am just on my way to buy Glen Lyon on MusicScotland (another cd to try is Roots, Reels, and Rhythm) Hardland is...interesting, a not always easy-to-listen-to try at mixing bagpipes and hard dance. Oh, I just cannot believe he's gone.

Dear Jen P.

Please start posting again. I miss you. And the cats.

Fascinating, But Creepy

This is work safe, but lasts 8 minutes. Make sure the volume is turned up.

Mommy Madness

Michelle found this article in Newsweek, about how moms find parenting, housekeeping, working, and, like, life, really difficult. I read it and thought, "And?" It bothered me all day, and then, while I was...folding towels...I realized why: they were Pottery Barn People. They have it all, yet they still whine. Now, far be it for me to pass judgement, but hey, it's my blog and I'll say whatever I want to say about people who have it all and then complain about it. Don't you wonder, though? Don't you wonder how they can just be completely unaware of, like, life? That it can be difficult? That maybe what's best for your kids it let them be kids? That music and dancing and sports and tvs in every room maybe aren't creating well-rounded individuals, but just kids who are like every one else in their social-financial class? That maybe what their kids want isn't really the latest pair of Nikes or Juicy Couture tracksuits, but just watching Malcolm In the Middle with their mom or dad? Doesn't striving for perfection really just mean you can't deal if you're not in control? Or am I just way off base here?

My Mother's On Crack.

Mom, after I have gone through the plans for 1.5 years of IVF before proceeding to adoption: Wait, a treatment cycle lasts 2-3 months? You and Mr Oro can't do that if you come to the States! Me, incredulous: Um, yeah, that's what I've been telling you for the past year...it's not simply a matter of going to the US with Mr Oro and getting us some IVF. Crack. It's got to be crack. Because, seriously, I swear to god she has some incredibly select hearing going on.

Should I FInd This Funny?

RealityTV is showing back-to-back reruns of Cheaters today. Heh. It should be noted that I am, perhaps, only slightly less romantic than a rock.

Well, That Was Pointless

Dr Director: It's been proven that fat women have a more difficult time getting pregnant via IVF than thin women. I don't want you to feel as if you've been singled out for a particular reason. Apart from me being fat, y'mean? Or am I just living in a parallel universe where what's coming out of your mouth isn't actually what you're saying? We stared at him. He quickly moved on. That's right, buddy. You don't want to go there. Because, funnily enough, I've read that IVF is strenous on every body, regardless of weight. Now, underlying conditions are another matter entirely, but since I apparently have none except for PCOS (and even that I feel somewhat iffy about)...which is likely why I'm fat in the first place. Dr Director: I could give you a blood test today to see if you're insulin resistant. Me: There's no point, as Dr Research took blood in December. I haven't had the results yet as my appointment last week was canceled. Dr Director: Okay, I'll write a letter to your GP to put you on Metformin, then come back and see me in May to see if you've lost any weight. Now, maybe it's just me, but what kind of medical doctor, like, say, the kind that can prescribe hormones and do intricate procedures on your body, has to refer you back to your GP so she can write out a scrip for medication? Dr Director: You should be glad you're not in Glasgow, where the weight limit is 165lbs! Oh yeah. We're freakin' ecstatic. We made it very clear to Dr Director that we feel we have been completely shafted by the clinic, and why. I think he was a little taken aback when I said I'd seen 4-5 different doctors at the clinic, and that Mr Oro and myself had asked if my weight was going to be an issue every single time, and had been told 'no'. And again, when I said it was despicable that we had basically been lied to, and that I felt I'd pissed away what fertility I might have while waiting for a clinic that ultimately is telling me 'Do Not Pass Go'. Any private clinic in Aberdeen is out as the clinic's guidelines are the ones that are followed. Of course, I wouldn't go to any clinic that had any of the doctors from the AFC working there, anyway, but still. The 'good' news is that we'll be eligible to adopt an infant until I turn 40 I figure it'll take 2 years or so for an international adoption. That gives us a year, year and a half, to get IVF out of the way, then wait however long we have to wait to 'get over' our infertility and start the adoption merry-go-round. Just hurry up and stand still.

Being Sick Sucks

1) When cooking, you can't smell what's burning. Like, say, a roasting chicken. 2) Your muscles are sore from sneezing, coughing, and blowing your nose. 3) Nothing tastes good. Although chocolate still cuts it, sorta. 4) Having to go to work (I got to leave early, even though we were very short-staffed). 5) You want salty junk food, but you are a) a low carber and b) it's very very cold and rainy and windy outside and you don't feel like making the trek to the local Spar, or facing the delinquents who hang outside no matter the weather. 6) Not even popcorn has any interest. 7) You're already getting canker sores from the 3 (three) watered down glasses of Orange juice you've had. 8) You get up at all hours of the night after drinking 4 liters of tea during the day. 9. Paying more for the 'balsam' tissues for your delicate nose. 10. On the other hand: 1) You'll do your damndest to breathe hard on Dr Director when you see him Monday afternoon. 2) Husbands will sometimes recognize that actually, they can lift a finger 3) You would eat salty junk food anyway, because, dude, you're totally sick and stuff. If you had any junk food, that is. Like, Doritos. Or Fritolay Corn Chips! Wow, I haven't had those in years. Tortilla chips just aren't the same. 4) uh...

So Then Karen Said...

...this, and I was all like, yeah. And then I realized. Not only am I one of those women who have more male friends (why are some women intimidated by fat women? Or is it just an intelligence and non-game-playing thing?), but of my (two) friends that have children, one I was never close to because she doesn't like other women (she has two girls, of course), and the other had her son long before we met, long before I found out about my infertility. None of my other friends have children. I know people from school who have kids, but I see them so rarely that that has no impact on me (one of the benefits of living overseas, I guess). But I haven't had to see someone go through a pregnancy. Which is my long winded way of saying, well, that's why I don't read most pregnancy blogs. There's nothing there - I can commiserate to a very small degree, and after a while, all I can think is, well, I have nothing to say to you apart from good luck. Some I'll continue to read because I have to find out how things end...yet. It's the elephant in the living room. I can acknowledge it, just don't expect me to say anything beyond, Yeah, it's an elephant.

Positively Craptacular

Yes folks, that's the way I feel. I took Wednesday off because I pulled ye old back muscle (again), went to work Thursday, and by the time I went to bed, the sneezing and migraine had started. Took yesterday off, and now it's 6:30AM, I feel like shit, and I'm going to work. I've had a couple of hours sleep, having reached the 'my head hurts, my throat is so dry everytime I fall asleep I think I'm choking to death. Which is why, after staring at the clock from 3:30 to 5:45, I decided I might as well get up. I've showered, eaten, and am partially dressed (bra and undies). I can report that even satellite tv is crap at this time of the day. Even the foreign channels, with the exception of one, which is showing Bollywood videos. In fact I'm watching a clown (is it just me, or are clowns really creepy?) sing a love song...and now here comes the circus. Thank goodness choreography's improved. The dancers kind of look like that dance troup in Fatboy Slim's Praise You video. It's always weird seeing white people in Bollywood flicks. What's worst of all is that if anyone were to feel my forehead they wouldn't think I'm fevered. Why? Because I'm only a little above 'normal' - 99.1/37.3 degrees. Alas, my normal temperature hovers around 96.8/36 degrees. So I feel like crap, but I don't look like crap. Oh, I was going to mention something else, but I can't remember what it was. Hope your Saturday goes well.

Ugg, Ugga, Uggest - **UPDATED

Here are some Paleo Diet links, of which the first is a mega link site: Paleolithic Diet Page Paleofood - foods and menues Paleolithic Diet and Paleolithic Nutrition - Actually, I meant to put out the WARD NICHOLSON interview instead - my bad. It's still really long, though! A very long article, but worth the read! There's one section, I can't remember where it is, that flipped a switch for me. He talks about how our ancestry influences our diet, and for me, suddenly the things I like to eat made a hell of a lot of sense. My immediate ancestry stems from three continents - Africa, Europe, and North America - and the whole fresh veggie and meat thing just makes so much damned sense for me. Anyway, if you've got a couple of hours doin' nuthin' - enjoy. Metabolic Typing Diet - crap book, but has a fab questionnaire somewhere around page 90 or so. Very very helpful in showing how what you eat affects how you feel. Highly recommended for that reason, but hey, get it out of the library. YOU MUST TAKE THE QUESIONNAIRE IN ORDER TO FIGURE OUT WHICH WORKS FOR YOU. Seriously. I was very surprised to find out that I need a protein-based diet, far heavier, indeed, than what I would have ever imagined. And in truth, I feel best when eating this way, more to the point, I was ignoring what my body said because I was following what the Diet Dictocrats said instead. You can take a VERY BASIC typing test on Dr Mercola's site but you do need to sign up for his newsletter. What Native Texans Ate - an interesting article. It's fascinating to note that no matter where in the world you go, once Native Peoples started eating a diet not local to them, diabetes, obesity, and other diseases start to crop up with distressing frequency. In fact, I can't think of any native population where this has not been the case. Nasty, Brutish, and Short? - good article Weston A Price - Read every single article. Trust me on this one. And, I beg you, buy their cookbook, Nourishing Traditions. The wealth of information will surprise you. And sicken you. Beyond Vegetarianism - A fab site. Now, I'm not saying vegetarians are wrong for eating the way they do, I truly believe that vegetarianism suits some people - but I think it's all in the genes.

Back Once Again With The Ill Behavior

I didn't want to get up and go to work today. I wanted to stay home, cocooned in the safety of my house, doing laundry and maybe even cleaning, reading, writing, downloading. Instead, I walked up the hill and waited for the bus. After it arrived I hopped on, and it began. The anxiety. The tearfulness. The depression. Once at work I folded towels, answered the phone, made no effort whatsoever to be pleasant to customers. I felt better after shoving my awful lunch down my gullet, and perked up once C and I began to chat. But. Monday is D-Day. I've taken the day off of work, because let's face it, I'm not going to want to deal with pregnant women, babies, or toddlers after speaking to Dr Director, not even if I get the go-ahead. I know that the decision has already been made and that there's nothing I can do about it. We have a plan to go to the US and get treatment, but boy, not only will it be expensive, but I'll be apart from Mr Oro for weeks if not months. The nearest clinics are in Boston, eastern New Hampshire, and Rochester, Syracuse, Stony Brook, and New York, NY, all of which are at least a 3 hour drive from my house. Blah. So, the nightmares have begun again, and the migraines, and the depression. And if Mr Oro will soon be too old to adopt a child, what then? Moving to the US is not feasible at this time...does this mean we'd chose to be childless? If that's the case, I don't think this marriage could survive...after all, he's not the problem, I am. The question is, I've never envisioned my life without children, so how do I live with the possibility of not having them?

A Baker's Dozen?

My father had 11 children. He was possibly an only child, the possible product of a rape when my grandmother was fostered out. She tells different stories, so I'm not very sure of much of what she's told me on the subject. In any case, he grew up an only child, and I suspect had a very rough growing up. I don't know much because I was in touch with his side of the family only very briefly as an adult. In any case, he was married when he and my mother met, and had a three year old daughter when I arrived. He had left his wife (and had already met the mother of the rest of his children by this time)and was living with my mother when she got pregnant with me, and was probably seeing #3 by this time, too. My mom and he had a mutual parting of the ways after my birth, and he left to be with #3 soon after. They then had 9 children. So, I am the second eldest of 11. I am an only child. I met my older sister, once. Apart from her being taller than me, and thin, we look remarkably alike. I got along with her half sister - we're the same age - far better than her, funnily enough. I don't know if she doesn't like me because my mother 'stole' her father away, or if she just didn't know how to respond to me, but we've never spoken since. I got in touch with my 'family' after my mother's hysterectomy in 1991. She felt that I needed to have...I dunno, connection or support or something, and so we got in touch with my grandmother, and she got us in touch with #'s 1 and 3. I've spoken to one or two of the younger siblings, and for awhile we did the Christmas card thing, and i spoke to their mother after my father died, but overall, it's been...well. I am an only child. I have family in name only, for while everyone else knew about me, I knew nothing about them. I thought I was the oldest. I was surprised to learn that they knew my name, and who my mother was. I am still angry, although not to the degree I used to be, that my father never made any attempt to find me, or write to me, not even a birthday card that never got sent because he didn't know where I lived. Even though we'd lived in the same town for over 20 years. And my mother could have been found by either her married or maiden names. Or that I, indeed, could have been found, as I have his last name. We visited my grandmother once, in Chicago. She was an older lady whose age was never verified, although we believe that she must have been very very young, like 12 or 13, when she had my father. She'd traveled around the world by herself after her husband died and became a watercolor artist. But there is a coldness between us. I think it's because there were 10 others who visited, and made happy, and were present. I feel gypped, although there is no legitimate reason for feeling so. My mother believes that having a father is essential to a person's makeup. I, of course, do not, as do my other friends who are the children of single mothers. We can't imagine what it would be like to have that other parent there, because we didn't grow up with that. I never fantasized about my father, either. Mom told me good things about him, she told me bad things, she said he was an asshole, she said he made her laugh, she said he liked to frighten her by stalling the light planes he took her up in, she said he taught her photography and was a brilliant photographer himself. She is still angry at him for the way he treated her, and in the same breath shrugs her shoulders and says, That was John.

But How Does It End?

I speak not of books, but of blogs. With all the recent hullabaloo, and some bloggers deciding that blogland, or at least Infertile Island, is no longer a good place to be, and my own feelings, or, actually, mostly the lack thereof, I've reached the conclusion that I'm not involved as I thought I was. That is to say, while I hope said bloggers don't leave, but continue to post, it is fully their decision to make whatever decision they feel they have to make. The thing is, though, what I wonder, is how does it all end? Will those who leave the island, for whatever reason, ever report back and tell their stories? Will we hear second hand news? Will they simply disappear into the ether, never to be heard from again? For myself, Joanne puts it best. I feel somewhat divorced from it all, now. Of course, tomorrow may be a different story, and next week, when I visit Dr Director to find out whether or not I'll be kicked off the IVF program, you can pretty much be assured that reading about pregnancy is the last thing I'm going to be doing, no matter how much I might like said blogger. Oh, I have no idea if this post even makes sense any more. Let me just finish by saying that yes, sometimes I am offended by what other bloggers say, and yes, I do delete them from my blogroll or from my list of must-reads. It's nothing personal. It's for my own sanity and sake of well-being. Besides, who knows, maybe someday I'll feel like I no longer belong on Infertility Island, either.

El Presidente

The song is Rocket - what do you think?

Fogwatt Milbuie

Sounds like someone's first name, eh? Preferably English, and posh, with a hyphenated last name, something silly or unpronounceable like, like, like Fogwatt Milbuie-Strachan, 9th Duke of Earl. In reality they're the names of two towns we passed on the way up north. We went up to Inverness for the weekend, visiting the in-laws and chilling with Mr Oro's younger brother and his two kids. We had a pleasant enough time, apart from watching Shallow Hal - there's nothing like being the only fat chick in a room of skinny people watching a movie where being fat is both the joke and the punchline - and this morning's question from Mr Brother-in-Law about why we would ever want kids, after his 12 yo daughter gave him attitude. Ha ha. Yeah, I nipped that right in the bud. I said, 'X, you really don't want to go there." He was all, "But no, I'm really just asking." To which I repeated my statement. Then the kid got into the act and he tried to nip it in the bud. Eventually the topic changed, but it's amazing how you'll just be going about your day, minding your own, and someone will say something and the pain and the tears and the wanting a pit to open beneath one's feet leap into one's throat. Considering Cecily's news, it was fascinating to watch a father interact with his children, particularly his daughter. It was interesting, because I grew up without a father, and I have no idea what that kind of relationship is like. How amazing, to be able to trust an adult malelike that, how...odd. I don't really know what else to say about it except that. My eating went all to hell, as well. I may frequently indulge at home, but my meals are always low carb and filled with protein and fat. My MIL, well, she's low fat and low-cal all the way. So. What did I eat? Lots of carbs. I skipped the potatoes, but there was bread, crackers, dessert, chinese food...and yeah, I'm feeling it. Oh, and I got my period this morning. And that was my weekend - how was yours?

Curtain Poles, Skating

Forgot to add that when buying curtain poles, you need to add 8 inches to your window size. This allows for the ends of the pole to extend over the window by four inches on either side, otherwise the pole will look too small. Finials will add another couple of inches in decoration. So, if your window is 46 inches wide, your pole will need to be 54 inches long, not including finials. If you're not sure that this extra amount will be too little/too much, go for an extendable pole. If you have a dormer window, or your window is set far into the wall, you can get tension rods that adhere to the inside of your window frame. Generally they simply unscrew in the middle, much like a shower rod. Obviously they're not for heavy curtains! And yes, I love the new judging system in skating! I too miss the 6.0, but I think this is a lot better.

Show Me The Money

Michelle was talking about money and ART, so I thought I'd share how Mr Oro and I plan on paying for our IVF (if done Stateside): A)bank loan B)Mom Well, that was easy, eh? In order to otherwise afford IVF, we would have had to have been saving for a few years. Alas, with a mortgage, a low wage, and me being jobless, saving was pretty much out of the question. We could figure out something, but it would be tough. Sacrificing the little things - satellite tv, books, eBay, cell phones - just wouldn't be enough to make a dent, probably in the neighborhood of $200 a month. Hell, our bus passes cost more, about $2000 a year for the both of us, and as we have no car, buses are the only way we can get to town and our jobs. Most of our bills are via direct debit, but some of them come in quarterly, some monthly, some weekly. We get paid once a month. I work a rota schedule, so while I assume I will get base rate of $500 a month, I can't guarantee it. Unless I'm ill, I usually earn more. My wage covers the credit card bill, eBay, books, household emergencies, my bus pass, entertainment (dinner out, the odd movie, satellite, phones) and at a pinch, the mortgage. Mr Oro's covers everything else, plus his pension. The one bill that we have that's absolutely outrageous is our food bill, which averages out to around $700 a month. Real food is not cheap. The problem - and I lay it directly at Mr Oro's feet, as he is a seriously picky eater. I prefer food that has to be cooked, but it's hard to do when I get home at 9PM. I work weekends, some of my off days I just want to relax, and other off days I'm just too damned busy catching up on all the things I've ignored during the week. Mr Oro does not cook. Anyway.

Curtains - The Idiot's Guide

Seeing as I have absolutely no infertility related anything to pass on today apart from: a) my period is due this week b) no pregnant women should be allowed to wear cropped shirts of any kind, no matter how young they are, and especially not in fucking February c) your little darling is not, actually, what the world revolves around, so please, move your fucking stroller out of me way I thought a little session on curtains was in order. Now, this is all according to British custom, because I've never bought curtains back home, hell, I wouldn't even know where to get them, and my mom only has blinds, so, I'm clueless as to US/CA specifics. Keeping that in mind, here we go! 1) Measure your window. You'll need the width and the drop (where you want your curtains to fall to, be it just below the sill, lower, or to the floor). You can also simply measure your pole, and what drop you want. We use both inches and centimeters. 2) DO NOT MEASURE YOUR HUNG CURTAINS Really, I can't stress this enough. Because they are hanging, and thus pleated at the top, you will not get an accurate measurement. You can remove your curtains and measure them flat, but keep in mind that if you do this you'll want to look for a similar fabric. 3) Hanging style. In ready made curtains there are generally three varieties - tab tops, eyelets/ring tops, and three inch tape. Three inch tape is standard in the UK - you stick curtain hooks, of which these are one variety, into whichever loop you like, stick the hooks in the little rings and then put the rings on your pole. Tab tops are, well, tab tops, as are eyelets. Eyelets and Tab tops can be bought in smaller widths, as they will lie flatter when pulled shut than three inch tapes. 4) Technically speaking, one curtain should be enough to cover your window. However, that depends on how much pleating/gather you like. If your curtains are just for show and you don't intend on pulling them shut, then it doesn't matter what width they are, so long as the drop is correct. If the curtains are simply going to be swagged to either side of the window as in these first and second examples, then you have to remember to adde an inch or two to the drop, to ensure they drop to where you want them when they're pulled back. 5) If you like a lot of pleating/gather, go for 2x your window, if less pleating, go for 1.5x your window. So what does this mean in real life? Window X is 53"/134cm wide, and has an 84"/213cm drop. You might think you want a 53" curtain, but manufacturers use 'standard' sizes. That is to say, standard to them, not to your windows!! So, you're not going to find a curtain in those sizes. Now, if you like a lot, a lot, a lot of gather, you could go up to the nearest sizes, for example, a 66/167cm or 72"/183cm width. That would be like, totally bad. That would give you a total of 132 or 154 inches to cover your 53" wide window! So, you go for the next lowest size, in this case probably a 46 or 48" width, which will give you 92 or 106". Window G is 118"/300cm wide with a drop of 54" (radiator beneath the window). Here you have a couple of options. You can either go for wide curtains - 72" or 90"/228cm - but chances are you'll have a very long drop, as most manufacturers go for big widths with big drops, then hemming the drop to 54" - or go for a smaller width with the correct drop, buying 2 pairs of curtains and either joining each pair in the middle so you have two big-ass curtains, or adding one curtain to another so that you have 1 normal-sized curtain and another that's double width. In either case you'll still have covered your window completely. 6) Pelmets/valances (they're the same thing, btw) or swags/scarves - dude, wake up and smell the new millenium. They really only look good in very specific rooms, I'd otherwise avoid them. It all depends on the look/theme you want...just be careful, use in moderation, as they can become very very frou-frou very very quickly. The general rule is that if your window is under 6 feet, go for a pelmet of 140", if over, 230", and if you need more than that, you'll need to combine one or more together. 7) if buying made-to-order or having a seamstress make your curtains, you absolutely MUST have your measurements, preferably in inches and centimeters. Ask to take the swatch home BEFORE you sign any contract - make absolutely sure that the swatch suits the lighting and decor before order, as most times you cannot return made-to-order unless they are faulty. Ask how much extra lining, eyelets, or tab tops are, and if you can get matching tiebacks or cushion covers. If a seamstress or relative is making them, bring a sample of the fabric and ask how many meters/yards will be needed for the size of your window. Remember, the wider the curtains the more widths will be in them, which means for anything wider than 54"/136cm, there will be at least one join. This is because fabric is generally woven at 45, 54, or 65" wide. If the fabric is patterned, the pattern should continue over the join. 8) The above also holds true for voiles, those sheer curtains that are used to let light into a room, while still maintaining privacy (in the daytime). Voiles tend to come in fewer sizes, and if you can't find one size, try a different manufacturer. 9) Okay, I think that's everything...but I'm sure I've missed something. If you have any questions, ask away! And y'know, I say Idiot's Guide, but believe you me, the only thing I knew about curtains when I first started working at the store was that they were used on windows and in theaters. On yet another aside, Archie Kao on CSI:LV is a total hottie. Apparently he used to be a Mighty Morphin' Power Ranger.

Look Around You

Remember, back in the day, when in school, once a week two things would happen? The first is that they'd give you those little plastic cups filled with cherry red flouride, and you'd have to sit and swish for like, a minute or so? And the second, when they'd drag the tv from a corner of homeroom and make you watch 3 minutes of educatinal programming? Well! Genius comedians have updated this in a show called 'Look Around You', showing the future as it was yesterday. Or something like that. Genius, I'm telling you, genius! On an aside, I found tonight's ER (with the black woman who thinks her husband is breaking in to her apartment, and makes her kids jump out the window) absolutely heartbreaking.

All Sport, All The Time

For you skating fanatics out there, I speak of Eurosport's coverage of the European Championships. At the moment there's about 6-7 hours of coverage per day, interspersed with tennis from the Australian Open, skiing - Alpine, Cross-country, Biathlon, Slalom, ski jumping - skeleton and bobsled, rallying, Serie A football, um, and that's about it for the moment. Best of all, there are no talking heads a la ESPN. There's no sports desk, no anchors, just sporting events narrated by presenters at the scene but behind the screen. And what's even cooler is that for many of the live events, particularly the skating and the gymnastics, you can email the presenters with questions and comments about what's taking place! I got an aswer to a music question a couple of years ago, but of course now I can't remember what it was...bah. What do you all think of the new scoring system?

Ninjas. Yeah, That's It, Ninjas.

Sorry, Brian Joubert, Evgeny Plushenko still rocks. And I would say that in Russian if I could. Although, Stefan Lindeman and Stephane Lambiel aren't exactly chopped liver, either... And, yeah. Ninjas.

No, Really

1. What book/movie/tv show/cd/dvd have you really enjoyed? Book: Fire Logic Movie: The Station Agent TV Show: Battlestar Galactica, Rescue Me, Two Pints of Lager And A Packet of Crisps 2. What book/movie/tv show/cd/dvd have you thought was completely overrated? TV Show: Deadwood, Sex and The City Movie: Moulin Rouge, Matrix 2 3. What book/movie/tv show/cd/dvd do you think has jumped the shark? Friends! Seasons 8 &9 of my beloved X Files 4. What was the last book/cd/dvd that you hurled across the room in disgust? Too many books to list. 5. What friend/coworker/family member would you like to slap silly? From work, C and Psycho 6. What friend/coworker/family member do you like/love, but can't tolerate for long periods of time? I shall leave this blank. 7. What's your least favorite fashion accessory (any year/decade)? Legwarmers. 8. What fashion did you actually wear that makes you wonder, Why, God, Why?! Ponchos. And legwarmers. And bellbottoms. In corduroy. 9. What book/movie/tv show/cd/dvd do you think we all should read/watch/listen to? Book: To Kill A Mockingbird, Affinity Sandman, by Neil Gaiman et al. TV: Odyssey 5 - cancelled. Farscape - cancelled. Spaced, Monkey Dust... Movie: Shaun of the Dead, The House of Mirth CD: Qntal III 10. What's your favorite food? Cheese or beef. 11. What's your favorite season? Winter 12. What do you miss most in your life right now (apart from a child)? My mom, my friends. And a car. 13. If you had the opportunity to do it over again, would you or would you not have gone to college? Still woulda gone. 14. If you're currently in school, what are you studying? I just finished my last sewing class! 15. If you could go back to school, what would you study? Criminology. 16. Can you crosstitch, sew, crochet, knit, tat, darn, or do any other feminine art of the classical variety? I used to crochet and knit, but I was crap at both. I'd like to learn crosstitch. 17. Do you play an instrument? Would you like to? Which one? I used to play the flute, now I just sing. 18. If you could have any job in the world, what would it be? Bookstore owner. 19. If you won 10 million dollars, would you give any of it to charity? Which one(s)? Medicins sans Frontiers (dr's w/out borders), local SPCA, programs needing money, particularly those dealing with a) displaced peoples, b) animals, c) the land. etc. 20. Do you volunteer? No. Yes, I feel guilty. 21. Do you still want a pony? Even a little black one? Especially the little black ones named 'prince' or 'lady', who have big assed attitudes and think it's funny to 'play' with you by, say, leaning against you when you're between it and the stall wall, or slowly dropping its hoof when you're picking it clean? The little bastards...but I digress. Even a little black pony would do for me. I'd like to have a rescue horse, even one that couldn't be ridden, or an older horse in need of a home for the rest of its life. 22. If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be, and for how long? Siberia, Alaska, Finland...I don't know for how long. 23. If you had the opportunity to go to Thailand or any of the other tsunami stricken-areas for a working holiday, would you? Yes. 24. What comedian makes you laugh the hardest? Bill Bailey, Simon Pegg (writer rather than comedian), Chris Rock 25. Do you believe in the Illuminati or other conspiracy theory type thingies? No, but the stupidity of people never fails to surprise me. 26. Do you have a crush on a celebrity? Uh, no? I admire and respect people like David Duchovny and Angelina Jolie, but I wouldn't go so far as to say I have crushes on them. 27. If you could travel amongst the stars, would you? Oh yeah. 28. Are you for or agin' human space travel? I'm all for it. 29. Do you recycle? If not, why not, and if not, do you feel guilty? Yes. 30. Global warming - true or false? True 31. Would you rather save money for goods of high quality, even though they might take a long time to buy, or buy things of lesser quality that you can have right now? (obviously, this does not cover necessary things, like white goods) Quality goods. 32. What's your favorite accent? Scottish! Although I like the Newcastle accent, too. 33. Do you like sports? Will you be watching the World Cup? I will indeed be watching the World Cup, particularly since Team USA did so well in '92. Right now I'm watching the mens program of the European Figure Skating Championships - Plushenko still rawks, but I'm waiting to see what Brian Joubert will do. I do like sports, everything from Biathlon to Fencing to K1 to Eventing. However, Baseball, Football, and Soccer bore the hell out of me apart from championship games. I did watch them when we had Sky Sports 1-3, but now we only get Eurosport, so I tend to go with the flow, apart from watching particulars like skating and the Tour de France. 34. Do you prefer flowers or greenery in a garden? I like both. 35. Are you tired of answering these questions? Not really, no.

New Story

There's a new story over at Purity Control, one which has taken me the better part of two years to write. It's fic, and not for the...I don't want to say 'squeamish', but I've been told that it's very disturbing. Go me!

Because I NEED To Know

Somebody, anybody, tell me who won My Restaurant Rules?! :grumble: I hate it when I get caught up in a reality game show...damn tv channel showed the finale and I missed it! :grumble:

What Do You Think?

Poor Couples Want IVF Anonymity What people want anonymity for is sperm and egg donation, not ART. I don't really know what to say about that. On the one hand, I can understand why someone would want to be anonymous, and on the other, I can see why someone would be curious. An act of selflessness at 18 or 20 could have long-term repercussions at 35 and 40, when you're married or in a relationship, maybe with other children. Still, it's an interesting dichotomy between rich and poor. The only reason I can come up with is that poor people's wealth comes from children, and from having that specific genetic link - poor in money, but still desirable for their fertility. And don't most of us feel that way? Lois McMaster Bujold says that 'all true wealth is biological' in one of her novels, Cordelia's Honor, I think. I wrote a fic called All True Wealth based on this idea. That story has quite a few warts, but I'm leaving as it is for posterity, to remind myself of the errors I made so as not to make them again. Anyway...