You tell me that you love me so, you tell me that you care, but when I need you, Blogger, you're never there!
Yep, Blogger is still having it's problems. The situation at the moment is basically, you take your chances when you want to post...sometimes it will publish, and sometimes it won't. I must say I've become addicted to the Blogger support group; whenever I see someone with a problem, I want to be the one to fix it!
Normally, I'm a fairly modest, even timid, sort of a person. But every year at about this time, I turn into a psycho hose beast. That's because it's the mad season at work, where we are all rushing to meet THE DEADLINE, and the extreme stress gets to everyone. Some of us react by becoming tense, or exhausted, but not me. I develop an explosive violent temper, and it carries through to all factes of my life. I snap at shop assistants. I hurl abuse at the TV (okay, I always do that). Yesterday I threw a coffee cup across my kitchen in frustration because I spilt a teaspoon of sugar on the floor. I'll be back to normal soon, but right now - do not start with me.
If I hear the phrase "now we have no bananas" one more time, I'm going to be sick. Sure, no one in Australia will be eating any bananas for a long time, because Cyclone Larry destroyed 90% of the nation's banana crop. But really - does every single journalist and blogger who uses that phrase think that they're the only one?!?
(I hated typing out "banana" so many times for that point, too. Try it - it's a bloody annoying word to type).
Recently I wrote about how much I hate daylight saving, which at this time of the year means getting up in the dark at 7am. Well it's being extended for another week - because of the Commonwealth games closing ceremony! Yep, although the games will be over by then, it was feared that if the clocks went back as normal on Sunday, before the closing ceremony was held, it would create confusion and cause people to turn up for the thing early. Frankly if you're that stupid you deserve to miss the ceremony. (Actually, I hope you miss it anyway).
School children who remain in seats on buses whilst the hard-working adults whose taxes pay for their free bus travel have to stand should be shot. What business have they got sitting down anyway? They're not tired yet. Incidentally, if ever I am offered a seat on a packed bus, it's invariably a girl who does the offering; the boys never do. The other day I saw a girl vacate her seat for a frail elderly lady boarding the bus...only to have the teenage boy standing nearby plonk down into the seat. The bus driver saw this and yelled over the din "Get out of that seat for the lady!" He didn't add "...you little shit", but if he had I would have applauded. Anyway, if the driver hadn't said that I would have hauled the kid out of the seat by his shirt collar myself. As for me, at first I felt I bit funny that I'm now a seat offeree rather than a seat offerrer, but then I thought, screw it.
Were it not for the theraputic value of sharing my woes with a bunch of vaugely interested strangers, I think I'd go even more insane than I already am. Brings me back to my original point...all these Blogger outages! GRRRR!!!
Yesterday saw the establishment media finally break the story every politically attuned social media user in Australia has known for months; that Deputy Prime Minister Barnaby Joyce was carrying on an extra marital affair with one of his political staffers, contributing t the break up of Joyce's 24 year marriage and with said staffer now pregnant with his child. The story finally hit mainstream circulation in the most salacious way possible; a Daily Telegraph front cover featuring a paparazzi shot of Joyce's former staffer, highlighting her pregnant belly.
The affair has gone official, and those of us aware of the many long standing rumors surrounding Barnaby Joyce are now waiting for the other shoe to drop. If the affair has been confirmed, will the much darker stories surrounding Barnaby Joyce get an airing as well?
The Telegraph story came as a surprise to no one who follows the Australian politics hashtag #auspol on Twitter. The story of Joyce, his marriage breakdown an…
I meant to end the year on a funny note. I mean, funny as in humorous, not funny peculiar or funny as in the kid in the choir finds his voice suddenly breaking, something a childhood spent watching The Brady Bunch led me to believe happened a lot more in real life than it actually does.
But last night I found out someone died, and it occurred to me that I've gotten used to the weird feeling when someone dies. It's definitely the worst thing that's happened for me this year.
Death has been kind of drifting around in the past year and a bit. My confirmation sponsor, a long time friend of the family, died of a sudden heart attack on holiday in New Zealand. That was horrible and sad, and I realise now that 59 is really fucking young to die, but it's...somehow you can place it in the course of life events. It's dreadful, but believable.
The others...I can't even begin to understand.
There was Cindy, who was in my year at school when I transferred to the local high s…
It was never a good word. Nothing that painful can be good. But it was useful. It was a useful word to describe exposure to stimulus or reminders so painful that, for survivors of trauma and abuse, it can take them right back to the traumatic incident, back to the feelings of horror, terror, shock and grief they experienced - or suppressed - at the time. We needed that word.
When I was first a member then an online counsellor at a forum for survivors of abuse, we used trigger warnings to warn other members that we were about to discuss painful and difficult things that may cause grief, guilt and flashbacks. Letting them know what was up ahead so they could avoid it if they needed to.
And we've had trigger warnings in the media for a long time. Television news bulletins warn viewers that stories up ahead contain disturbing images, content that may upset some viewers, so they can avoid injuries, child abuse, animal abuse.
But now, bei…