TV Romance - I only WISH it was dead!

*SPOILER ALERT - IF YOU WATCH GREY'S ANATOMY AND HAVEN'T SEEN IT THIS WEEK YOU MIGHT NOT WANNA READ ANY MORE YOU SAD, SAD PERSON*

*Disclaimer - this post written from the depths of despair, so may contain multiple grammatical errors, overuse of capitalisation and the occasional rude word*

So I was just walking from the supermarket to the bottle shop, laden with bags, as you do.  Whilst passing the newsagency I saw the following magazine cover in the window:

and after muttering under my breath something along the lines of "OMGNOWAIDUDE", I found that I was becoming irrationally angry at the concept of Meredith and Derek splitting up.  Again.

Let me first set the record straight.  I gave up Grey's Anatomy some time around season 3 or 4, because the on-again, off-again romances made me want to stick knitting needles in my eyes during each episode, so it's entirely possible that I've missed something.  I suspect not much, however.

Why did it piss me off, you ask?  Well, it's like the whole Ross-Rachel thing.  All.  Over.  Again.  In stereo surround sound.  I barely survived The Whole Ross-Rachel Thing back in the 90's, or however long ago that was, and here TV goes doing it again.

In a nutshell - if two intelligent, gorgeous, and loving (albeit emotionally scarred to a degree that makes me giggle sometimes) fictional characters can't find love, what possible chance do the rest of us have, for eff's sake?

Don't these TV writers know that the only reason we put up with their on-again, off-again, nail-biting, season-finale-relationship-cliffhangy  melodrama is to discover that in the end that true love will win?  We don't want to see a couple struggle for years to overcome their personal issues, work crises, family dramas, sexy ex-partners and fashion accidents only to FAIL!  We are only too familiar with this end result - we want to see Happily Ever After.  No Matter What.

I do know why they do it, I do.  They want people to keep coming back again and again and again and again to see the same stories slightly re-jigged, with newer and more exciting obstacles for our hero and heroine to overcome.  Let's face it, if Ross and Rachel fell in love, had 2.5 babies and moved to the 'burbs in season 2 of Friends, no one would watch.

But I want it to end well.  At least sometimes.  Well, once.  I honestly can't remember the details of the ending  of Friends, but a quick google search gives me the idea that they ended up together.  In the last episode.  And how do we know that lasted?  Who knows what sitcom characters get up to after the series ends?  I suspect they got married (again) and took a honeymoon to Sydney and on the way home the plane crashed on a mysterious island where they...  Ok.  I'm getting silly now.

So Grey's Anatomy writer people?  I don't like this turn of events at all.  Google also reliably informs me that Patrick Dempsey (minor swoon break) has said season 8 will be his last.  Sort it out, writers - if they don't end up in Happily Ever After Land I'm going to be seriously pissed off.  Let's have a happy ending this time.

STxxx

Rant du jour - Perth public transportation!

I think the idea of public transportation rocks.  No, really, I do.  No traffic jams, doing one's bit for the environment, and not having to deal with the utter numpties on the Perth roads - it's all full of win!

Or is it?

I live within 5 minute's drive of a train station and work in the CBD.  There is another train station within about a 7 minute drive from my house.  Note I used the words "drive from my house".  I want use the train.  I desperately want to use the train.  I can't even drive into the city in time to start work even if I COULD afford around $20 a day for parking plus petrol, because before-school care opens at 7am and not a minute sooner.

So train it is.

Let's see how this works.  I've managed to rejig my work schedule to start at 9:15 2 days a week to save paying out for before school care, so I drop the kids at school at around 8:20 and head to the station. 

But wait.  There's a problem.  Firstly, there's no free parking left.  It's full by around 6:55am.  No worries, I don't mind paying $3 a day to park.  But wait.  There's another problem.  There's no PAID parking left either.  None - I mean NONE within a 20 minute walk of the station.  In despair, I head to the next train station only to find the same story.

OK.  Absolute worst-case scenario, I'm going to have to drive to work.  So I do.  But wait.  There's a problem.  There's no parking anywhere near work.  None - I mean NONE!  All full.

Hmmmmm.  This is indeed tricky, and I'm already 30 minutes late now.  Whatever shall I do? 

I can hear the responses from you already - WHY, O Sparkly Tiara, WHY do you drive to the station?  Just take a bus - nice and simple.  Well, no, actually, it isn't.  The closest a bus goes to the kids' school would involve a 15 minute walk in addition to a 15 minute bus ride.  Twice.  Once from home to school and then again from school to train station.  That adds an hour to the already hour-long commute.  That seems rather absurd.  It would also mean that on the return trip I'd arrive at after-school care an hour after they shut.  I think they'd get heartily sick of that in a hurry.

Ride a bicycle, I hear you suggest quietly?  Hmmm.  No.  Not only do I loathe and detest bicycles, but I am also one of those unfortunate types who tends to "glow" profusely from exercise, and I do not wish to inflict BO upon my students all day.  Showering at work is not an option.  We're lucky if there's soap in the dispensers in the ladies' room, never mind showers.  Plus my 6 year old daughter is still very shaky on the bike and I'm not risking her anywhere near Perth's atrocious drivers.

One day a few weeks ago, in sheer desperation, I parked One Parking Spot Away from the designated "all day parking" at the station.  There was nowhere else to park.  It had all filled up by around 7am.  I saw a car next to me with a plaintive note in the windscreen begging not to get a ticket because there simply were no options.

Yep - we both got tickets.  I'm not paying.  Feck 'em.  I'd rather go to court and calmly rant at the Magistrate about the impossibility of it all.  Yeah, I'll probably still be told to pay, but at least I'll get my soapbox moment, damn it!

So what's the answer?  Simple - we need low-cost multi-storey car parks at major train hubs.  People will use trains if they are a viable option.  They really, really will (although decent coffee and free wifi wouldn't go astray as a sweetener).  The freeways are utterly jammed from around 5:30 until 9:00, then again from 3:30 - 6:30 and Perth residents are understandably Fed Right Up. 

Angry motorists on the freeway are not good.  Accidents and road-rage incidents are common.  Sense, apparently isn't.

So, Government of Western Australia - DO SOMETHING ABOUT THIS!

Fashion trends that baffle me.

To be fair, I'm quite easily baffled, but I've seen things around the place recently which have me scratching my head and wondering WHY? I mean, I get that fashion is fashion and shalt evermore be fashion world without end amen, but why doesn't Unflattering beat Fashion?

Take these thong-boot numbers, for example. They're everywhere, but I think they rate so highly on the fugly-o-meter that they should have their own category on it. Or maybe I'm just showing my age...



Then there's the whole leggings-as-pants issue. There must be a million or so blogposts, nightmare pictures, web sites and Facebook groups that all use the slogan Leggings Are Not Pants. Surely the word is spreading, I mean, people must KNOW how awful it looks, right? So who are all these women (often young girls) who insist on offending my eyeballs left, right and centre every time I venture out of the house? Please Freaking Stop It Right Now!!




It would be rude to leave out the boys, so I've got a special little ranty section for you on emo hair for boys. Please - look in the goddamned mirror before you leave the house. Oh, that's right, you can't actually see anything from behind that hair. That explains a lot.




My last baffling fashion du jour isn't necessarily a new one, but a few tweets on the subject the other night made me do a bit of googling on the subject, and I now heartily wish I hadn't bothered. The whole Toddlers and Tiara look makes me wanna throw up, quite frankly, and then bitch-slap the ignorant fucktards who put their children through it. Tossers.





So what makes you want to bleach your eyeballs in current fashion trends? Am I just old, crotchety and stuck in the 80s, or are there others who get as stabby as I do seeing people walking around in public willingly (one assumes) dressed like utter gits?

Anyhoo - signing off on a Friday arvo here in the blogosphere so I can go chill my wine and my wine glasses, 'cos it's officially Very Nearly Wine o'Clock chez Sparkly Tiara!





Mwah's all round and *clink clink*

STxxx

Clothing retailers - DO BETTER!

Earlier this week I spent a small fortune on new summer wardrobes for my offspring, who have had the audacity to increase in size considerably since last summer, selfish little creatures.

Not being flush with cash, the vast majority of my purchases came from Target, with a couple of Pumpkin Patch numbers and one or two items from surf shops for the trendy older 2.

I've just washed most of them for the first time and as I was hanging them out was utterly disgusted to see the state they were in after ONE wash, in COLD water, NO dryers involved. A few of the tshirts are so stretched out of shape that they're barely recognisable. There are hemlines coming down, long threads trailing from them which have actually pulled holes in the fabric during the wash. Buttons have come off, pockets are fraying ridiculously and overall these items look like they were boiled in a vat of oil and then repeatedly stomped on by a large angry fishwife.

Now, I don't expect budget clothing to last forever. I can live with it not even lasting until it's outgrown, but I am NOT happy about them looking like this after one wash. It's quite simply unacceptable.

Retailers of Australia - what happened to quality? Seriously, are we turning into such a disposable society that clothing is now designed to only last for one or two wears? Besides the obvious waste and financial cost that entails, what about the environmental costs of mass producing cheap crap that is then thrown away and replaced with more mass-produced cheap crap in no time?

It's not good enough, and something needs to be done about it.

American retailers, you seem to be a bit more sensible on these things. I still have clothing items purchased in a Target store (so still budget) in California 5 years ago which have been worn and washed countless times and look nearly as good as new. Labels like OshKosh really do seem to focus on quality as well as fashion. Why do we settle for less in Australia? One reason I can think of is that line-drying in the USA is nearly unheard of, so clothing is specifically made to be dryer safe, which I'm guessing involves a higher quality product.

Target and Pumpkin Patch - guess what? I'm on my way back to visit you with your shoddy products and will be demanding both an explanation and a refund. I don't want a store credit - I want a refund, and I will be searching online to purchase quality, made-in-Australia items - probably from WAH mothers who actually GET why this is important.

Oh - and I'll also be keeping my spending $$ in Australia rather than them heading offshore to China, which happens to be where every shoddy item I've mentioned was made.

STxxx

Multi-vent Monday

Grrrrrr, boo, hiss and detest, I'm having a rant-worthy Monday, so I'm just gonna get it all out...

Centrelink -I hate you. I jump through your hoops, I even do so willingly, in grateful appreciation for the financial support you provide me with. But get this - this time I don't actually fit into one of your Neat Little Boxes. I would if I could, honest! I'd LUUURRVVE to fit into your Neat Little Box - but I. Just. Don't. I'm not going out of my way to make your life hell, I promise. I'm just in a little bit of a different situation, so would really appreciate a response other than "I'm sorry, I can only tell you what the law says" 20 times in a row. Yes, I realise this may involve consulting with a more senior staff member with the acute eyesight required to look outside the Neat Little Box, and yes, I am more than happy to make yet another appointment with said senior staff member. Today's appointment may as well have been me sitting opposite a photocopied stack of paper spelling out The Law, for all the good it did. Gah - you suck.

Dear Scalp - you're taking the pain factor of a sprained hair follicle to ridiculous heights, and I think it's time you stopped being such a drama queen and let me get on with some work without having to wince in pain every time I move my head. Yes - I did actually use the words "sprained hair follicle" - that well-known pony-tail fail injury.

Vapid-looking P-platers in hotted up Lancers - No words for you - just a visual today.



Dude fixing up my pergola - I know it's not your fault, so this is really aimed at your boss. The hailstorm that smacked Perth soundly across the face was in March. It is now September. I have lived all winter with a pergola roof that resembles thin slices of Swiss cheese. I realise there was probably a lot of call for household repairs after the storm, but seriously, dudes - 6 months? Repeated phone calls to repair company have resulted in one excuse after another - administrative cock-up, bit busy, sprained hair follicle - you get the picture. So then today, when someone actually shows up to do the job, I am SINGULARLY UNIMPRESSED with the fact that someone didn't order enough roof sheeting. You've had 6 months to do this. You've sent 4 different blokes over on 4 separate occasions to measure and you still cock it up. FAIL!

To my daugher's beloved scooter - next time I go anywhere near you please do me a huge personal favour and run away quickly, zap me with an electric shock or turn invisible - anything to keep me from attempting to ride you again after an afternoon at the pub. Kthxbai. PS - please send painkillers and heatpacks.

Won't SOMEONE think of the Tupperware?

Sometimes it feels good (or is absolutely necessary) to bring a little order into an otherwise chaotic life. With this in mind I just resolved to tackle that terrifying, hard-to-reach corner of my kitchen cupboards that houses my collection of plastic food receptacles. These range from worth-their-weight-in-gold Tupperware (all vanished) containers to bulk-purchased cheap-arsed plastic takeaway boxes of all shapes and sizes.

What I found was absolutely mystifying. When I finally managed to exit the cupboard on hands and knees and survey my stash I found that I had precisely 55 lids and precisely 11 containers. Of those lids and containers I had precisely 3 matches.

To prove that I really do Shit You Not, I took a photo, and here it is. Actually, I took 2 and here they both are.



How. Does. This. Happen?

I can understand the occasional container being sacrificed to the Gods of Playdough, Roughhousing and Occasional Microwave Disasters, but for the love of all that is decent, how did 44 containers vanish? Perhaps (thinking outside the square here) they didn't vanish at all, but never existed, and there's some strange lid-breeding programme going on in my cupboard resulting in multiple births of new and exciting containerless lids?

Whatever it is, I want my containers back. Or my lids gone. Or more matches. Or at the VERY least - a scientific explanation.

STxxx

PS - Ignore dirty floor. It's, erm, just the lighting...

Beeping frikken BEEPS!

We live in a world controlled by beeps.

The dishwasher beeps when it's finished. 5 times, then 5 more times every few minutes for at least half an hour. Guess what, dishwasher? I DON'T CARE! You rate very low on the list of things I care about, so SHUT THE BEEP UP!

Microwave beeps when it's finished. At least it's only once, twice or 10 times, though. It can stay, but I'd appreciate a little quiet please.

Washing machine, you are the bane of my existence. Not only do you beep when you are finished, but you continue to do so every 5 minutes until I open your lid. You don't care if that is 5 months from now, you will continue to beep. While I truly appreciate your dedication to clean non-smelly clothing, can I also please request that you SHUT THE BEEP UP? I will empty you and hang up the clothing on my OWN schedule, not on yours, you self-absorbed metallic hulk!

Call waiting - hello? I'm on the phone already! I don't give a flying monkey's testicles if someone else is calling. I'm busy. Fuck OFF!

Fridge door. Yes, I know. You're open. Who cares? I'll get to you when I'm good and ready, thanks very much!

Reversing delivery vans - while I'm eternally grateful for the audible warning that you are about to go backwards, I really don't need to know that when I'm in the next suburb. Kthxbai.

Phone messaging service. Not much to say here except GET KNOTTED! If I had wanted to know what that person had to say I would have answered the phone in the first place.

And last but not least, security screens at shops. I have NOT stolen something from you, you excremental morons, it's merely that some dropkick of a shop assistant has been remiss in their duties and has failed to remove the security advice. I do NOT appreciate having 17 spotty, gadget-wielding teenagers zoning in on me like the goddamned SAS. Train your staff appropriately and leave me the fuck alone, will you?

That is all. Please carry on.

STxxx

You can't fix stupid

We're just back from a birthday party for one of Z's little kindy friends at the local bowling alley, and I'm quite simply flabbergasted at how totally and utterly appalling the service was.

The faintest of alarm bells started clanging the minute we walked through the door and went to the reception desk, behind which slouched at least 4 bored looking teenagers. 8 minutes later, I was still standing there, hoping against hope that one of them would spot me there, 70cm in front of them and direct me to the party. No such luck. A very exasperated "exCUSE me?" and one looked across at me, managing not to lose 1 iota of the bored look on his face. I was then pointed in the direction of the party, not asked to get shoes, not asked for our name or anything.

Whatever.

I must admit, the bowling session wasn't too bad, with 20 3 - 6 year olds over about 4 lanes. Two attendants were there to help, but decided it would probably be easier if the parents did it, so we did. The one thing that did seriously piss me off was when the attendant on our lane switched the monitor off just as the last kid took his last shot, thereby ensuring that none of the kids actually knew the final outcome of the game.

On this point I must digress a bit. Z was doing well. She nearly won, and I'm embarrassed to admit how frigging competitive I got! I was mentally willing those nearest to her in score to throw themselves down the lane, fall over, or drop a bowling ball on their toes. Sad, isn't it? Z didn't give a shit, she was just having fun. I was the one sweating bullets when little Johnny nearly got a strike on his last shot. As I said, embarrassing, but totally out my control!

Anyhoo, as the bowling came to an end we were all ushered into the "dining room", which is used as a creche and storage room when not used for parties. There were boxes piled up half way to the ceiling against one wall, 3 long tables with tacky plastic tablecloths and absolutely no sound insulation whatsoever. Add in the 20 excited kids and the noise was deafening.

The kids had pre-ordered their meals - chicken nuggets and chips or hot dog and chips. Both utterly revolting options, as far as healthy eating goes, but I suppose for a kid's party one is expected to overlook these things. Heaven help any poor child burdened with food allergies, I suppose they would starve in such an environment.

This brings me to another bit of a digression. Children's party venues are a huge business, and generally charge through the roof for incredibly mediocre food and service. Surely, with the current trends towards a healthier lifestyle, these places would start to cotton on to the fact that some of us do care what our children eat, and avoid deep-fried sodium-filled lard whenever possible. Would it be so terribly difficult just to throw a couple of healthy options in? Even sandwiches and popcorn as opposed to hot dogs and over-salted chips? Apparently it is, and I'm just not happy about it, thank you very much!

Anyway, back to the party...

Our 2 attendants were there, I assumed to serve food, tidy up, refill drink cups and so forth. Again, no such luck. One chap brought in a tray loaded with about 8 paper plates of nuggets and chips, put them down on a nearby table and walked, taking one tiny plate at a time, doling these out according to some mysterious list. After 2 minutes or so, he had managed to hand out around 3 meals, so the host and I took over, getting the remaining 18 kids fed within a minute. It wasn't even that difficult, amazingly enough!

Oh, look, I could write pages and pages of every single fuck up, which would ease my need to vent, but would probably be highly boring to read, so shall just sum up the basics:

• When serving hot dogs, please don't wait to be asked before providing tomato sauce. It's pretty much a given.

• When serving finger food to 5 year olds, napkins should not be on a request basis only.

• When you are finally asked for tomato sauce, don't tell me you're re-supplying (WTF?) and that it will be there in 5 minutes. The hot dogs will either be cold or eaten by then. Sort it out.

• When the host asks you to bring out the cake, would it not be GLARINGLY OBVIOUS that you need to clear the table of the nugget-hotdog-chips mess? No? Morons!

• Once again, when feeding birthday cake with masses of luminous green icing to a bunch of small children, please don't make me ask you for napkins. Again.

• When charging ludicrously high rates for this "food" and "service" please have the decency to wipe that blank look off your face and try and look interested. These are kids. The birthday boy's parents have just spent a small fortune to be here. Smarten up, Emo kid!

To be fair, apart from the sullen attitude and blank looks, it's not really the teenagers' fault. I blame the management. These kids need to be properly trained and supervised. I didn't see a single employee over the age of around 16 today, and that's simply not good enough.

Now, I realise that I look at these things a lot more judgementally that other parents may do, as I have 20 years in the hospitality industry, however the vast majority of the things that went wrong today were simply a total lack of common sense.

Since I moved to Australia, I have been horrified on a weekly basis at the standards of service in the hospitality industry, compared to other countries I have both worked in and visited. Unless you are dealing with a seasoned industry veteran, and one who both loves and takes pride in their work, chances are you're going to get a slouchy, bored looking blank-faced twat serving you.

I have tried for years now to train the staff that I have worked with to take pride in their job, and to put themselves in the position of the customer to attempt to anticipate their needs. It's been a losing battle, I can assure you.

It would simply appear that you can't fix stupid, and you can't train someone to care.

STxxx

(image courtesy of http://matchstic.com/blog/?cat=4 )

Things I'm just fed up of doing

• Refilling the pets' water bowl. It's boring and tedious.

• Checking the toilet seat before perching thereon, and invariably finding spots of wee to be wiped up. Aim better, children.

• Not using up all the veggies I buy before they go mouldy and ewwwwww.

• Trying to hang onto even a semblance of respect for Aussie politicians after watching Question Time. I'm struggling here, people, can't you lot just TRY to grow up and act like responsible adults?

• Looking at mountains of papers and unopened mail. Can I just put a sticker on my mailbox saying "No Mail, Please"?

• Dealing with dust-bunnies. Seriously, can I get hold of some dust-bunny contraceptives and put an end to these little bastards once and for all?

• DVDs. Everywhere. Piles of them. Not in cases. Needing sorting. Getting scratched.

• Weeds. 'Nuff said.

• Filling up car with petrol. Up there with filling water bowl - boring and tedious, with the added bonus of being fucking expensive.

• Looking for a job. Come on, employers of Australia, you KNOW you want a part time employee with a myriad of skills who will have to call in sick every time one of her children is sick.

• Dealing with stupid people. They're everywhere. Like case-less DVD's and dust-bunnies. Can't someone just make them all go away?

• Hearing daft Americans likening their president to Hitler because he thinks healthcare should be available to everyone, including the *gasp* poor. Freaking idiots.

• Trying to keep track of socks. Where. Do. They. Go???

• Figuring out what bra size is actually right for me. They're all either a bit too small or a bit too big. Goldilocks, anyone?

• Watching my big toenail go black, crack all the way over and now waiting for it to fall off. Also fed up of wondering what on earth is underneath it? Can one buy fake toenails? I may need one for summer.

• Waiting for the Child Support Agency to pull their thumbs out of their collective arses and chase up the $$ I am owed!

Please feel free to add your own!

STxxx

Not Learner plates, Idiot plates!

I am constantly amazed at how incredibly badly some people drive. I mean, we take tests to see if we have the faintest idea of what we're doing when in control of a 2 tonne beast moving at 100kms an hour. Surely, one would think, if one passes the test it is assumed that one knows the basic rules of the road, and how to handle said beast.

Apparently not.

Here are a few of the things that Really Piss Me Off:

Roundabouts
It's quite simple. If you are turning left, indicate left at the roundabout and then turn left. If you are going straight, indicate left just before that particular exit of the roundabout. If you are turning right, you indicate right on approach to roundabout, then indicate left as you exit off roundabout. The things I have seen drivers do would curl your teeth in horror. Every possible variation of indicating, leaving me with the sense that no matter what a person's indicators are doing, they could quite easily do the absolute opposite.

Traffic Lights
Green means go, you arseclowns! Even my kids knew this basic tenet of driving from the age of approximately 18 months. Red = stop. Orange = hit the gas and squeak through hoping there's no camera. Green = keep going. At current speed. Green does not mean slow down to 20km per hour 800m before green light Just In Case it's thinking about turning red.

Tailgating
Just don't fucking do it, ok? It's horribly ill-mannered, excruciatingly irritating and also somewhat dangerous. It's also not going to make me speed up. In fact, you may find it will, in fact, make me slow down to 8km per hour on the freeway if I'm in a stabby enough mood. I need the boot of my car for carrying vegetables and new shoes in. Kindly don't try to park in it.

Frangipani stickers and car seat covers
This pretty much sums it up for me:


Parking
Do it properly, please. Special note goes to the asshat in the red convertible Alfa Romeo at my local shops last week who parked exactly and precisely in the middle of 2 parking spaces. You win Twat of the Week. Oh, and being a spotty, oily and mullety 19 year old bogan doesn't qualify you for disabled parking. Sorry. Lazy pricks!

Parallel parking
Firstly, do we all know what the word 'parallel' means? Here's a hint "extending in the same direction, equidistant at all points, and never converging or diverging: parallel rows of trees. " When applied to parking, this means that your car should actually be in line with the kerb. And preferably reasonably close to said kerb. Not 1m away from kerb smack in the middle of the driving lane.

Secondly, have a heart, folks. Free street parking is in very high demand. It's awfully rude and selfish to leave 3 metres in front and behind you. Consider demand and supply and don't take up more space than you need to. Idiot.

Merging
Also not rocket science. You happily and neatly insert your car into a line of moving cars with minimum fuss and terror. You do NOT race madly up the inside lane at 100kms a hour as the available space gets narrower and narrower, thereby nearly running yourself and everyone else off the road in your insane attempt to get Just One Car Ahead. Moron.

So-called 'Soccer Mums' in whopping great 4WDs
Yes, my environmentally friendly Barina and I are insanely jealous, I openly admit that. I Want To Be You and Drive Your Beast. However, since I can't afford to either buy, run or maintain one, I shall resort to petty bitchiness about some of your habits. Just stop being such show-offy wanks. Don't block me in on all sides and then whinge because I can't see whether or not I can pull out. Learn how to Park Your Beast. Oh, and stop driving while talking on your mobile. Just because you are safe in your tank doesn't mean I'll pull up ok if you drive on top of me.

And just one more special mention to one Soccer Mum in particular. Yes, you. The one that always parks next to me outside the high school. If I have to watch you squeeze your spots in your visor mirror just ONE MORE TIME I may get violent. Kthxbai.

STxxx

I am never wrong...

When it comes to issues that are a matter of opinion, rather than proven fact, it is, indeed, possible to never be wrong.

I love this concept! I was raised on it, in fact. My father (may he never rest in peace, because he would get bored out of his skull and start annoying people) Was. Never. Wrong. Not even about indisputable facts. It was, in fact, dreadfully annoying to live with him, because he was usually right about not being wrong.

There was that one time he said a bathmat was a towel, and shouted at someone for not putting it on the towel rail, but we moved past that, and he does concede that that the one time he was wrong was when he doubted himself on the bathmat vs. towel saga.

I adored my father, and although his I Am Never Wrong drove me absolutely up the walls, it did teach me to stick by my convictions, even in the face of Overwhelming Opinions To The Contrary. I like to think that I have learned to give slightly in the face of said overwhelming contrary opinions, but let's be honest; not always. Or even usually.

Sometimes one must be right. Especially when it comes to matters of opinions and the capitals of South American countries. La Paz is to Bolivia as social inductions of labour are to Just Wrong in my world.

And yes, that's what this post is all about.

I stand (on my soapbox, of course) comfortably buoyed up by the fact that the Overwhelming Opinons (and medical evidence) on this issue agrees with me.

The very act of inducing labour comes with a multitude of medical risks. There are many situations where that risk is absolutely warranted - maternal high blood pressure, placenta previa, foetal distress and a million others are all very good reasons to get that baby the hell out of Dodge before more harm is done to either mother or child.

Daddy being about to play in the AFL Grand Final and doesn't want Mummy to go into labour on 26th September and fuck up his chances to both be a footy star and a new daddy on the same day is quite simply not one of them.

This blog is not the place to go into the medical risks of inducing a labour before the due date, so I will leave you and Dr. Google to research that yourself. Let's just say that my own research, as well as my own in-depth debates with my personal obstetricians have given me a pretty good idea of what those risks are.

All birth carries inherent risk. All birth carries inherent inconvenience. It might, God forbid, start in the pickles and ice-cream aisle at the supermarket. It may start when Dad is about to be deployed to Afghanistan or sent to an oil rig off the Pilbarra. It may EVEN be thinking of starting around Grand Final Day, or on the first day of the Myer-One cardholders only presale special event.

The point is, we don't know when baby is going to decide to make it's grand appearance, and we have to schedule our lives accordingly. Nothing can be written in stone around Due Date. Our children only get one birth. Isn't it our responsibility as parents to make that birth as safe as we possibly can?

To say in a cavalier manner that we are going to schedule the birth of our children around the other events in our lives, by using a medical intervention that holds risks to both mother and child is both irresponsible and selfish.

It comes down to priorities, in my book.

And this is my blog, and in this perfect world of mine I am never wrong!

STxxx

PS. It's all my dad's fault, ok?

People are evil, aka WTF is wrong with some people

*LANGUAGE WARNING - This blog post will contain multiple profanities and possibly some spelling mistakes and almost definitely overuse of commas, exclamation marks and ellipses*

So I watched the news tonight. It's not something I do often, but it happened to be on. Usually I read my news online and selectively click on stories my sensitive psyche can handle. Obviously I should keep on doing just that. Here are a few gems that got my blood absolutely fucking boiling:

Elderly Man Gets Hit With Tomahawk Helping Bleeding Mother and Child

Elderly dude is in laundromat, waiting for clothes to be clean and/or dry. Bleeding woman staggers in, clutching 2 year old child. Elderly man (well up and current on his first aid) begins to administer aid. No sooner does he commence his Good Samaritanship but drunken partner of bleeding woman staggers in and attacks him. With a tomahawk. At his eye.

Elderly man tries in vain to get away, fortunately drunken partner dude sees sense and stops. At this point drunken partner dude starts apologising profusely. This whole story is as told by elderly good dude in hospital bed with unspeakably horribly facial trauma. Elderly dude has no animosity, says his faith in the Lord enables him to see the best in drunken partner dude, and says that "he's probably quite a good bloke under different circumstances".

My awe is split between the fucktardiness of drunken partner dude and the amazing forgiveness and largess of elderly dude. Elderly dude has shattered eye socket, may never regain sight in that eye, and was about to take a test to be a driving instructor.
WTF is wrong with some people?

2 year old girl mauled by pitbull

Dad of 2 year old girl takes said girl to a mate's house. Mate's pitbull attacks her, toddler barely recognisable with horrible contusions and swelling to left side of face, both hands (put up to defend herself, can hardly contain tears here) wrapped in bandages. Camera goes to (sorry, my take on it) teenaged bogan-looking mother weeping about the state of her daughter with equally teenaged bogan-looking father at her side. Goes on about scars for life and therapy for daughter to ever get control of facial muscles again. Reporter states that owner of pitbull says it supposedly escaped after the incident.

My queries. Dad gets my wrath first. Why take your daughter to the home of someone who owns an unrestrained pitbull? Why allow your child in a ROOM with said dog? Owner of pitbull gets more. These dogs are genetic mutants. They have been specifically bred for viciousness and attack qualities. Why own one? WHY FUCKING OWN ONE? Don't anyone try and tell me that there is such a thing as a family-friendly pitbull. As I said. Genetic fucking mutants. It's not their fault, bless them. It's the fucking wankers that have gone out of their way to put the most vicious dog they can find with the most vicious bitch they can find and sell the offspring to total fuckwit idiots who think they are some sort of cool and tuff status symbols.

WTF IS WRONG WITH SOME PEOPLE?

Ben Cousins

Total up-his-own-arse sports brat. Got busted for drugs, got the right PR, faked the whole rehabilitation thing and somehow ended up back on an AFL team. Wanker. Fuckwit arrogant idiot wanker. Did the whole "Don't do drugs, kids, it's way bad!" spiel to try and get some street cred back. Wanker.

Tonight on the news I see a wee snippet how he got whacked hard in the head in some tackle at the weekend (not-so-secretly cheering here). Describes how it felt to the reporter. (Forgive paraphrasing, was too angry to remember verbatim quote) "Yeah, like, I felt all woozy and heady. Hey man, I used to pay $5000 to get a head that felt like that."

Unforgiveably glib, total utter fuckwit wanker from hell who should be shot.

WTF IS WRONG WITH SOME PEOPLE?

Rant over. I feel better now.

STxxx