Can I Have Some Painkillers Please ?

Boyfriend's team won some awards for their last project. Cue a night out.

My head hurts.

It was a great night, dinner, drinks and, some how, back to ours for more drinks. At times like that I am glad that we continued our old habit of always being stocked for a party. It didn't seem quite so necessary when we moved from my beloved hometown as most of our late night drinking buds live there. But old habits die hard. Thankfully.

I have no idea what time we kicked people out. I just know it was sometime after two. Quite a while after I believe but my ability to care about time was somewhat impaired. Red wine will do that to you. As will gin.

Much fun was had. My head still hurts though, and I have glasses to wash.

Poo.

On the up side, I did find out that one of the other girls worked as a stripper and pole dancer for a while.

Stardust

My lovely Boyfriend took me to see Stardust last night.

Loved it. I love fairy tales, especially those with a little punch. The Princess Bride is one of my favorite books and movies.

Back to Stardust.

Yes, there probably were plot holes and other things wrong but fortunately for me I have retained my childhood ability to be enchanted and get far too involved in the story to care. As long as the story telling is good. And the holes aren't too glaring. I'm not going to say anything about the actual story as people may not have seen the movie or read the book or graphic novel thingy, and it'd be dashed unsporting to give away details.

I'd seen the trailers for the movie and loved the song that went with it. Then I found out it was by Take That. Hmmm. This does pose a problem. I am of an age to have been a Take That fan first time round and I wasn't. I did not understand the hysteria and devotion of those around me. When their comeback was announced I didn't really care. Until, that is, they actually released some alright tracks. The adult me is okay with this, the part that is forever a teenager is not. Totally not, okay ?

Crazy Like A Fox

I like that phrase.

Rowdy Regulars

Thought I'd share a little story I stumbled across.

A bar in London had their regulars show their worth recently. When five masked men, one brandishing a gun, burst into the bar the customers hurled pint glasses, champagne bottles and chairs at them. The masked men fled from the barrage.

I'd say the next round is on the landlord.

Saturday, A Mantinee, Some Books And A Steak Pie

Boyfriend and I decided to do some thing a bit different yesterday afternoon.

We went to the theatre.

It's not like we don't go any other time, just not on Saturday afternoons. It was great, a most enjoyable way to spend the time. Our local theatre company are rather good, even if I do say so myself. An excellent, laugh out loud performance was followed by a tasty lunch and coffee. Then we moved to one of my favourite past times. Book shopping.

I could spend hours in a book shop. Hell, I do spend hours in bookshops. Fortunately book shopping is one of Boyfriend's fave things too. I love wandering from section to section, finding new things, browsing the shelves and spending lots of cash. Even if I don't have much in the way of spare cash. Books are not a luxury, they are an essential part of life. I could just join the library to cut down the cost of my reading addiction but it would affect the experience and that's a no no.

You see, I like to get comfy with a book. I have a friend who can't read a book if the spine is broken, a page crushed, or if the book is anything less than perfect. Her books all look untouched. She is horrified by my book related behaviour. I always have a book in my handbag when I leave the house. Always. Of course they suffer some transport related damage, but I don't mind. I like my books to be well travelled. If I can't find a bookmark, or more likely have lost the one I had despite not moving from my chair, I will quite happily leave the book open, pages face down to keep my place. I can't think of a single paperback I own that has it's spine in tact. I like to read in the bath, which has on occasion lead to page meeting water.

My books are precious things, the words, worlds and people they contain are to be cherished but I need to be comfy with them, otherwise it affects the relationship. I still have books from my childhood, my Brothers Grimm and Hans Christan Anderson collections from my gran for my eighth birthday, a beautifully illustrated copy of Treasure Island from my uncle for Christmas when I was nine, my first copy of Pride and Prejudice from my eleventh birthday all quite dog eared, battered and loved. Picking up those books is a trip down memory lane in more ways than one. I'd best stop my little book related wanderings now or we could be here for a while.

So I bought a book. Still waiting on several others to be published or to come out in paperback. After the book shop we toddled off home for a nice relaxing evening, a delicious steak pie from the local farm shop, some steamed greens and a glass or two of red.

All in all, a great day.

Yeah, I know, the details of my life are not thrilling but it's my blog and I'll write what I like.

So . . . . . Got Nothing But Some Random Shit About Me

I'm going to assume you care. If not, fuck off now as this will just bore you.

I'm not having the best of days.

I have a history of depression and, despite my otherwise perfect life, it still jumps me sometimes. Don't get me wrong, I'm not prefect, by a long shot, I'm not rich, but I have no financial difficulties, I don't know what I'm going to do after I finish my degree, although I am smart enough to be expected to do well, I am not beautiful, pretty but averagely so and overall pretty happy with that. Average is okay. I have no major problems. My biggest dilemmas this week are; should I buy a new bag or wait 'til next month, what I should make for dinner and how to get my weight loss back on track.

My boyfriend is perfect, not perfect in a way the entire world might agree with, but perfect for me. He's smart, funny, sexy and pretty fucking understanding of his crazy girlfriend. He may also be the most annoying man on the planet. I feel it's one of his finer qualities. I love him, he loves me, we have a good life, and last time I checked that's pretty much as good as it gets.

So to recap, I'm not saying pity me for my mental health. I was the one who decided that a life time of medication was not for me and that I would just deal with the little black box in the back of my head. I was the one who decided that I was going to take the fucker on with the intention of beating it into the ground and generally kicking it's ass. I win, some times, other times it wins

I have a stubborn streak.

The depression stems from my childhood, a time I didn't have control of. The exact issues are unimportant now. I've dealt with them. But the shadow, the depression, remains.

It's really fucking annoying.

I have to say I don't think that everyone diagnosed with depression should take my route. There are certain traits in my personality that make this the best route for me. For me, my depression is a weakness I need to deal with. I know, and understand, that depression is not a weakness, it's shit that happens, but I need to fight. I really need to fight. It's the only way I know how. The fact that my life is now pretty fucking good make the depression even more annoying and less understandable even though I know where and what it comes from. But there it is. It still exists, and still attempts to control me.

I can feel the fucker circling. It's moving in for another attack. This thing is a separate entity. It swoops on moments of weakness, things that really aren't that important in the grand scheme but that it can use to get at me. Today I smashed a plate while doing the dishes and fucked up a small thing. It sees that as food. It already has a bigger hold than normal as I have sleep issues due to one of my neighbours. Lack of sleep makes me edgy, two months of fucked up sleep makes me near crazy. I know this and have avoided other things, as best I can, that add to that. My head feels ready to explode. So I bought some ciggies. I'll feel guilty about that . . . . . as I smoke. Boyfriend doesn't like smoking, and smoking isn't actually allowed in our house. Oops.

What the fuck, I feel crap and I'll take what I can get as a crutch.

So here I am, having a fucking bad day for no real fucking reason.

That's really fucking annoying.

Thanks for the share.

Wait . . . Where Am I ? Who Am I ?

Essay done and dusted. Can't say much for the quality but hey, who cares ? It's done.

Since I've been busy reading about the Cuban missile crisis I have nothing of interest to say, no silly discovery, unless you want to talk about the ExComm tapes.

No takers ?

Gee, what a surprise.

Think I'll toddle off and see what interesting and tantalising things other people have been up to.

Who Knew ?

Who knew listening to the ExComm tapes, documenting one of the most dangerous incidents of the Cold War could be so fricking dull ?

Just give me the transcripts people, I can read faster than they talk. There's a deadline looming.

Arrrgggghhhh

Essay due on Wednesday.

I got my weeks mixed up.

I haven't even finished my reading yet.

Oh well, what the hell. Just need to get it done and handed in.

A Quick Intro To Grey's, And House, Sort Of

Enjoy.

Why Do I Love Grey's ?

I really need to get over my Grey's Anatomy addiction.

Really.

Although, I may be in too deep already.

I'm watching it now, even though I know I shouldn't. I mean McDreamy and McSteamy ? What the fuck is with that ? Why am I still watching this ? More red wine please. Quickly.

Maybe that's the root of the problem. Thursday is my night in, by myself, with a couple of glasses of red. It must be lowering my defences.

On the other hand it could be much, much worse. I could like Big Brother.

Frickin' Housework

Why is it that house guests and periods where I can't be arsed to keep the house shiny bright always meet ? That means I end up scrabbling around the day before they arrive like a cross between Cinderella and Monica from Friends.

That has been the joy of my day. The in laws, well my sort of in laws, are due tomorrow and of late I have been what you might call lazy in the housework department. It's not my fault ! I'm back at uni and have essays, reading and lectures to slack off from, and blogs to read. Priorities people. I'm always like that for a few weeks at the start of term again, then I realise that I have been slacking far too effectively and I have an essay due in a week and need to actually behave like the adult I am supposed to be.

Floors were washed, carpets hoovered, furniture polished, bedding aired, skirting boards washed, and cotton buds were deployed to ensure every possible nook and cranny was wiped clean. The iron even made it out of the cupboard for more than the clothes I wanted to wear. This may not be a big thing for other people but I don't iron very much. I once suggested ironing Boyfriend's tshirts and I never want to see that much confusion and fear on the face of another human being again. I think I might have left a permanent scar. I actually have all my napkins washed and ironed at the same time. I sorted paperwork. That was a Herculean task in and of itself. We usually work with the pile system but now there are folders and things. Kitchen cupboards are now actually organised as opposed to the old free for all.

I have a sparkly and organised home at the moment. Anthea Turner would be proud.

It probably won't last long.

Doctors, And Others, Who Can't Do Their Job

A friend emailed me an article from the Telegraph today. The Telegraph is not a paper which I personally buy, it's a little too right wing, foreigners are evil, long live the Tories for me. I mean this is the paper that claimed immigrants from EU countries are driving up house prices in the UK. After telling us that the top 10 areas of employment for EU immigrants are in the service industry. See here for the insightful and unbiased article.

"More than one third were factory operatives, 10 per cent packers, nine per cent catering assistants, nine per cent warehouse operatives, followed by cleaners, farm workers, waiters, domestic workers, care assistants and sales assistants"

How many people do you know working in any of those areas that can afford to but houses in the UK market ? But apparently immigration in a major factor in the rise of the average house price from £86,000 to £177,000. Not people buying second homes or property to rent out then.

Back to the point. I checked out the article that I had been emailed. Here it is. Basically, a small number of Muslim medical students are refusing to deal with patients who require treatment for alcohol related illness and sexually transmitted diseases on religious grounds. They also refuse to attend lectures on the subjects. Some are refusing to perform examinations on members of the opposite sex. The Times also has a piece on this. A search at BBC online turned up nothing. Neither did a search at the Guardian online nor at the Independent. I admit I didn't exactly work through every possible combination of search terms but still. Okay I did one search at each using the words Muslim, medical students, doctors, refuse. I thought that would do. Sheesh, people I don't have all day.

I assume that anyone who fails to study any area of medicine for any reason will be unable to pass their exams and therefore I don't really care. You aren't capable of doing the job and you won't qualify. Seems fair to me. What pissed me off was in the Times article. The General Medical Council has "received requests for guidance over whether students could “omit parts of the medical curriculum and yet still be allowed to graduate”".

Eh, let me think, you don't complete the course and as a result can't pass your exam so we should . . . . .consider letting you graduate anyway. Of course ! Why didn't I see it before. So totally logical. To quote a very dear friend, fuck that shit.

I'd have the same opinion of anyone else of any religion in a similar situation. In fact I do. Christan doctors who refuse to refer patients for abortions, or any religious type who refuses to supply any medical procedure/medication etc on religious/moral/ethical grounds consider yourself well and truly off the list of people I like. You know what the job entails, if you can't do it find other employment.

The Times and Telegraph article also mention that Sainsbury's supermarkets allows employees not scan booze at the tills on religious ground, someone else has to be called in to do that. Seems stupid but whatever. Actually, no, not whatever. If you can't fill your job description you shouldn't have the frickin' job.

Apparently this whole I can't do my job for r/m/e reasons is becoming more prevalent. I have an answer. Sack them.

That goes for the doctors who "are unwilling to provide terminations because they believe there is no good excuse for unwanted pregnancies". You see they "don't see why they should have to - as one put it to me - clear up the mess if women can't be bothered to use contraception." The whole article is here. They apparently don't understand that contraceptives can fail. Wow. And these people actually passed their exams ? That's quite disturbing.

You are entitled to what ever beliefs and opinions you want but they should not interfere with your ability to function in your chosen career or job. It's terribly unprofessional.

One other situation that needs mentioned in the I can't do my job properly section. I have friend in the fire brigade who told me that in their whole "equality" drive a female candidate was given a second shot at a test. No male candidate ever has been. If she couldn't pass the test under the same conditions as everyone else then she can't do the job. It's insulting to other candidates, both male and female, who can.

About A Post

I have just posted something I drafted on Saturday. I wasn't sure if I should given that the topic is such an emotive one, but hey it's my blog. So read it if you please, or don't.

In case you need a warning the subject is abortion.

Monday, Whose Idea Was That ?

Frickin' Monday.

Should Scotland Set Own Abortion Law ? And Is That The Real Question Here ?

I was catching up on some reading and stumbled across an article from the Scotsman in which our dear devolved leader has raised the issue of whither abortion law should be among the devolved powers of the Scottish Parliament.

I can understand trying to bring more legislative powers to the parliament. Scotland now has a pro independence party in power and, to be quite frank, it would be a little weird if they didn't try to advance their political agenda. Last time I checked that was pretty much what political parties did. Reading the rest of the article made me unsure about how I feel about this move though. It seems to be for reasons other than simply empowering the Scottish Parliament.

The article brings the First Ministers personal opinion on abortion, that the limit should be reduced from 24 weeks to 20 weeks because there have been medical advances on foetus viability.

Hey Salmond, little word please. Abortion is not actually about foetus viability, it's about a woman's right to determine whither she becomes a mother or not. I don't want to hear about foetus rights because as far as I am concerned the rights lie with the woman. I'm not sorry if this offends any one's sensibilities.

Please, bring on the irrational hate if you feel the need. It's not going to change my opinion.

Motherhood, parenthood in general, is far too important to be foisted on people. It's something that should be entered in to willingly, with an idea of the responsibilities that lie ahead and at least a vague plan of how you are going to navigate it. Plans change of course but you need an idea to start with. And the parents should, ideally, be in a good financial position, capable of providing for their offspring. You also need to be mentally mature and prepared enough to take responsibility for a small person who will need to rely on you for everything; food, shelter, and guidance among others. Children should be wanted, loved and cherished. They are too important to be anything else.

And don't tell me that women who have abortions don't use contraceptives so it's their own fault
they got pregnant. Hey stupid, no means of contraceptive is 100% effective, not even sterilisation. That fails in rare cases for unknown reasons. After that argument comes you shouldn't be having sex if you don't intend to reproduce.

Wahahahahahahahahahahahahah. 'Cause that's gonna happen. Folks, sex is just too much fun.

And on a more serious point, this line of argument seems to be mainly directed at women. I am not a baby factory, I will not be defined by my reproductive biology. For the fun of it let's imagine that rule applied to men. No man may have sex if he does not intent to father a child, and be an active parent to that child. 'Cause that would happen. Can't you just see it ?

Then you get the abortion is murder argument. Sorry folks it is not murder. Murder is a criminal offence, the unlawful and intentional killing of another human being. Abortion is legal not criminal. Abortion is the termination of pregnancy by inducing the expulsion of a foetus. Or if that's just too damn clinical for you it's the intentional killing of an unborn child. This fact is not debatable. That's why it's a fact. See ? No airy fairy skipping the uncomfortable points here.

To be honest I don't really think anyone does. I doubt having an abortion is something anyone takes lightly. There is a whole lot more to this subject but this is a post about the thoughts that the Scotsman article and the comments on it made me think.

A Little Word About Giving A Shit

I just ran into one of my pet hates again. It seems to be mainly Americans that I have heard/read using this little gem but I have no doubt that other English speakers do it too.

Now, maybe I am miss understanding but I don't think do. The context in which my little bug bear is used seems to indicate that I have properly understood the intent. Unfortunately I don't have any examples to hand. The phrase that bugs me is . . . . . . .

"I could care less".

Or "I could give a shit",

or any variation on this theme,

What they actually mean is that they COULD NOT care less or they COULD NOT give a shit. At least from the context that's what it seems they mean.

When you use one of the two offending phrases what you are actually saying is;

"There is a way in which I could actually care less about this subject/person/thing so I do in fact care about it to some degree."

See the difference ? Or have I explained far too ineptly ? If you mean you couldn't give a flying monkeys uncle about something please say so.

Of course it could be that "I could give a shit" is a truncated version of "I could give a shit, but I don't" but I have never heard it said with any inflection that would hint at that.

Now that I have had my little rant on the subject someone might feel it appropriate to point out that neither my grammar, spelling, nor punctuation are perfect and allude to stones and glasshouses. Know what ?

I couldn't give a shit.

Privacy ? What Privacy ?

So I've been reading Violent Acres blog on and off for a little while now and I like it. As I have not trawled V's archive and I don't check regularly there is usually something to read. One of the finer qualities in a blog I feel.

Yes, I am aware that it is not a quality that my blog possesses. So what ?

So today through a process we won't go into, that'd be dull, I read a 2006 post, Go On With Your Bad Selves. It referred to a little upset in the internet world that another of V's posts had caused and I decided to see if I could find any trace of it still drifting around. I like reading so called internet scandals of this type, especially when one side doesn't give a flying fuck for the opinion of the other. So I went scurrying to Google, as you do, to see what I could find. And find stuff I did. Not related to what I went looking for but hey, I'm easily distracted when wasting time so I followed the new thread.

Again I ended up in a post that was from 2006. You see apparently there was, maybe still is, speculation as to whither V is male or female. First thought on reading this ? Sad fucks, really should get a life. I think a few people in the comments pointed this line of thought out. But I was amused for a little longer. Until I got to the bottom of that page and found the link to this page.

Who does this sad little fuck think he is ? Why when some loser came to him claiming to know who V is did he follow it up ? Why not just tell them to go fuck themselves ? Who gave him the right to invade someones privacy to satisfy his curiosity ?

Then he tells us, graciously, that it's not his place to part with this news worthy piece of information. Awww, shucks, what a guy. Chivalry still lives somewhere. Just not with that tosser. But you know he had a "bona fide ethical dilemma" to reach this decision. Do you think he really meant that ? Just not over V's right to privacy, that was a no brainer. He wanted to know so obviously it's his divine right to know and that supersedes everyone elses rights. Now that he knows, well things have to be considered. Git.

I know that in the case of Restaurant Gal some smart arse little git did actually reveal her identity and felt proud of it. 'Cause that makes you a gold star pupil doesn't it ? Why ? Why is it so important to some people to rip the anonymity away ? Why is this important ? If you read a blog and like it, does it matter who writes it ? If you read it and you don't like it, what the fuck are you doing ? Get a life, really, you need it. For me personally it doesn't. And I believe that if someone chooses to blog anonymously then no one has the right to take that away.

Geez, I do keep harping on about privacy issues. Wonder why ?

Tired Of It

Sooooo tired.

The problem with whoever's heating system/hot water system is causing all the fucking noise is STILL NOT FUCKING FIXED.

As a result I hate everyone who is in anyway connected with it. Fucking fuckers.

Caffeine fumes are the only thing sustaining me at this point. Okay, okay, maybe partying with my mates at the weekend wasn't the best plan ever when I'm not getting enough sleep but to be honest, if I'm not getting enough sleep at least I should at least get to enjoy the reason that I'm not getting enough sleep. Anyone want to object ? Please only apply if you have a death wish.

And no, I don't care if the "not enough sleep sentence" makes any sense or not.

And it's not just how little sleep I am getting that's pissing me off. I am become one very pissy, cranky bitch. Now don't get me wrong, there is not one damn thing wrong with being a bitch. I do it very well on occasion. Like when I'm breathing. But having your inner bitch run riot and get out of your control is not a good thing. I like to be in full control of bitchiness, it should always be deployed with style and grace. And you should always be fully aware of said deployment so you can enjoy the aftermath. That's what makes it fun.

It should also be directed appropriately. This is the point I am failing on at the moment. I am taking shit out on my boyfriend. This is not good. The sucky situation is not his fault, there is nothing he can do about it. Everything that can be done is being done. Admittedly it's being done by me, but that's 'cause I have the time and flexibility to be at home when plumbers, heating engineers and official types come calling. I don't think it's getting to him as much as me, he seems to be able to sleep through or get back to sleep after but boyfriend is undoubtedly not the situations biggest fan so why I am making it worse for him ? I have no reasonable answer to that nor do I seem to be able to stop.

I need to get over the out of control bitch thing.

They need to fix the stupid system.

How Exactly Did October Get Here So Quickly ?

Seriously. It should not be October yet, not for at least some frickin' time to come. It snuck up quietly and then clattered me over the head with a large pot which it proceeded to hit with a wooden spoon. Repeatedly.

I know I have the ability to lose track of time but this is new for even me. It's still supposed to be September. That way the deadlines I have looming are looming just a little less, and the projects I have are further from expected completion.

I don't give a monkey's uncle's flyin' bare ass bandicoot how long the calender has been arranged this way I WANT SEPTEMBER BACK !!!

Non compliance with this demand will result in . . . . . . you are probably to young for the rest of this sentence. I'm to young for it. I didn't know I knew that many beepable words.

Drunken Time With Good Friends

It was supposed to be a quiet get together on Saturday night. I finally stumbled home at about seven am on Sunday. I undoubtedly spouted bullshit for quite some time but I believe that is acceptable behaviour at these events. And after the amount of booze that was consumed I doubt any of us actually remember what the hell we said any way. It would be rude if anyone did. It was a great night of gabbing, silliness and music. Bliss.

My hangover has receded now but it was very, very unwilling to. It took some gentle persuasion involving about 4 or 5 litres of water. I think I need more. Lots and lots more. Maybe a darkened room too. And pizza.

Now I am not going to be foolish enough to say I'm never doing that again, that never works. My plan is to not do that again for quite some time. Prior to this time the last time was about ten months ago. I think I'll leave it a little longer next time, maybe a year. Or two.

More water, a movie, a quilt and the couch. My immediate future.

Boyfriend will be home soon so hugs will be involved too.