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 |  My Blog. Generally Intended for Reading-Not Eating!. |
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Rose-Tinted Ramblings ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** A Little of What You Might Expect & A Lot of Everything Else that You Don't!. My writing style for my blog is invariably 'snarkastic'. This is because I am a nice, unassuming and quietly-spoken person IRL-and this blog is where my innermost moments and torments happen. Trust me, I am no exception to that delightful rule. Greetings! Welcome to my THIRD blog here on WDC. A re-incarnation of my earlier version of my Blog, here "Insanties and Sensibilities" this v.03 should prove to be equally...challenging and hopefully, entertaining. That said, life often weaves through our writing in mysterious ways, and this Blog will probably prove to be no exception to that. We are very likely all quite different, yet the same, us writers and our collective little whims, fascinations and insecurities. |
 Some things of this world we are never meant to fully understand. A "Worst Nightmare" Scenario. |
| April 14, 2008. This may be the last entry in my blog for a while. My upgraded membership expires tomorrow. Usually no big deal. Except that, pennies that I spend now, come out of our Trip to New Zealand Jar, which needs as many pennies as possible at the moment. So, goodbye Blogville. See you all on the Yellow Brick Road, or is that reserved for Yellow Cases, too?. {e:balloon1) Edit: Do not worry about me. I'll return when I'm sufficiently motivated to write here again. Being a black case for as long as I have doesn't bother me, either. All good things come to those who wait, according to those who have it on good authority. In the meantime, I'm wondering if I'll need to bury my mother next to my late father. If she's holding on, on our account, we'd better be skippy about this trip back home. Crematoriums creep me out. Thoughts, too, for the six schoolchildren and their teacher who lost their lives on a river in the North Island of New Zealand, overnight. Time to take care of our own. |
| April 13, 2008. Whether the Weather be: Cloudy 51. Events of Note: Calm after the storm-time to dwell on domestic dilemmas In the Nudes: Dalai Lama will resign if Tibetan violence escalates (Reuters)  While I'm not one to play "favorites" as it were, there is one particular blog and blogger who I consistently enjoy and appreciate. It's Mavis Moog   . Her entries invariably leave me feeling nostalgic, or thoughtful, or simply enthused about a great many aspects of life. Mavis Moog is one of Blogville's treasures, for all of the best possible reasons for admiring a writer and a fellow human being.  Yesterday was the beginning of the local Farmer's Market, and my BIL offered to take "Beanie" out for the day. She had a blissful day-touring the bustling outdoor market, eating fresh market garden produce while sitting in the sunshine, and visiting four different parks and playgrounds. It was unusually warm and sunny for this part of California, yesterday-76 (F)!. At almost 7pm, she reappeared again, just when I was beginning to fret a little-clearly tired, mildly sunburned on her little forearms, and slightly cantankerous. Her crankiness was a symptom of something more sinister to come. So, I propped her up on the downstairs couch, with a cup of cool milk. She was strangely quiet, which I put down to general tiredness. She kept asking for her Daddy, so I wandered outside just on dusk, and told him his presence was being demanded. Just as she began to doze off, "Beanie" suddenly sat up, shrieked for me and promptly projectile vomited over the entire couch, and herself, from her T-shirt down to her cute "Hello Kitty" socks. She was clammy, clearly shivering, clutching her head in agony, and suddenly complaining that she'd hit her head on a slide that day at one of the playgrounds. We mopped her up, scooped her trembling little self up, and ran her a lukewarm tub bath. Not interested. Emphatically. Climbed out of the tub, and threw up again...and again...and again. I called my BIL on his mobile to ask whether he'd noticed "Beanie" hitting her head at any point during the day. He was adamant that she hadn't. He even called me back five minutes later, to let me know what she'd eaten that day, in case she'd been allergic to something. I suspected (and still do) that she was suffering from a mild version of heat-stroke. All she wanted to do last night, was curl up under a blanket and sleep. We were all in bed sound asleep by 10pm last night. She threw up once this morning, but has since managed a little bit of frozen fruit juice, and is a much better color. She's been watching Beatrix Potter stories on DVD this morning (a grey, cold and foggy morning, in complete contrast to yesterday).  The couple (my husband's cousin and his partner) who will be house-sitting for us while we are in New Zealand in June, have two dogs and two cats. This irks me somewhat. I've been quite emphatic about their limiting the dogs occupation of our house to the downstairs bathroom conservatory, which has a lino floor, and which can be easily aired out. What Miss Pish and Mr Spot, our two geriatric cats will make of this menagerie, we can only begin to guess. Meanwhile, the same couple are trying to find a longer-term rental for the duration of their university studies at the local state university. Finding a cheap rental in a university city, avec pets is not easy. My husband has even been out and photographed apartments for them, and I have diligently answered their emails with half a hundred questions on everything, ranging from how to find employment locally, to the county crime rates, to the climate. They asked us to attend property showings at particular times and locations, which we firmly drew the line at. Which all has us wondering how self-sufficient they will be at maintaining this place while we are away. Ours is an old villa, with its fair share of quirks. They will be here for two months and paying for utilities only. We think they're getting a pretty good deal from us. But, they sound like spoiled students. Just what we don't need. Family or not. Always something...Wonder if Kåre Enga in Montana   would like to be a "Writer in Residence" here?. |
| April 12, 2008. Whether the Weather: 58 (F) Sunny. (Yesterday was 75 (F) and Sunny) Events of Note: Still coughing due to asthma and allergies In the Nudes: Polygamist sect told it's children that the outside world is hostile (Texas) A.P. Source I've mentioned my policy on email forwarding before. I don't forward "interesting" emails to people in my address books. Why?. Isn't this part of social networking responsibility?. I don't think it is. In fact, in some cases, I think it's socially irresponsible to do so. Nor do I wish to insult the intelligence of friends, family and acquaintances. Much of what is circulating and re-circulating is trivial garbage. And, I really do wish, that if people have a burning desire to be technologically responsible, they would learn how to use the "Undisclosed Recipients" function in their email program. I don't want my email address to be circulating with half a hundred other unsuspecting souls, and I'm pretty sure others would agree with me on that. However...yesterday's forwarded mail, really got my goat greening. It had to do with the public health safety of wiping the tops of soda cans before you slurp your soda, because of possible contamination by rats pee. A woman in Texas contracted a rare form of something starting with 'l' and died from it, after drinking from a contaminated soda can top. Tragic. Now, granted, whoever started this hyperbolic, cyber panic attack was probably well-intentioned, if not ill-informed. I do get seriously pipped when people take such public health cases out of context, and quote one research study as if it were the absolute authority and last word on the subject. Get a grip on yourselves!. If I did that, or even participated in that, I'd be being an irresponsible public health professional, and I'd end up with absolutely zero credibility. We just don't do that!. Promoting panic is not conducive to helping anything or anyone. Period. Moreover, the email never mentioned where this information about the rat pee scare originally came from. Well, you can guess where that one got filed!. Part of this, I blame on the news media-who are some of the biggest culprits of similar tactics. A scientific research study on some "buzz" or "hot topic" comes out, and the the media are scrambling frantically, often making sweeping generalizations, when sometimes, the scientific generalizability is considerably much more narrow, and the actual results are not really able to be hyped (nor should they be) when they are taken in a wider context. My other pet media peeve is DTCA-Direct to Consumer Advertising by Drug Companies-but, that's a whole other rant. So, instead of having screaming fits over rat pee contamination, set a rat trap, and go out for a nice, long, refreshing walk, instead. Even the rat may thank you for it. |
| April 10, 2008. Whether the Weather be: 36 (F) Sunny. Sunny, my arm!. Events of Note: Getting down to some serious business. In the Nudes: China cracks down on "terrorists" ahead of Games. So, now that I have my professional degree (with Honors), plus requisite previous job experience, I can begin the search for a job that pays. Back before I went to college, as a mature student, I was pretty deliberate about purposefully developing the whole of myself as a potential employee. Some people call this resume-building. Thousands of college grads (sometimes young and 'green') make the fatal mistake of thinking that once they have their college degree, they can pick and choose their desired job. People joke that a B.A degree comes with burger-flipping qualifications and fries. It's a fairly common under-grad degree. I have one. But my undergrad degree was just the preliminary to gaining two professional degrees. What distinguishes one graduate from the next?. Good question. With professional jobs, there seems to be several starting selection criteria-employment history, experience, personal interests and a portfolio. I'm still nutting out the portfolio part, but at least I have something to put in there. Meanwhile, we're out of food, so we're off to do some Hunter/Gatherer activities. Some things just have to take priority-job-dreaming aside!. |
| April 08, 2008. Whether the Weather be: 47 (F) Partly Cloudy. A 'quickie' entry to celebrate the fact that I've been awarded a Master's of Public Health (MPH) degree, from my Med School back in New Zealand, with an excellent result. And, here I was, worrying and fretting over stupid technical stuff!. Go me!. Maybe I can finally get a good night's sleep after three months of stressing. Now, I just need to shake my own personal public health illnesses, and go find a real job (after I get the requisite real suit and the real haircut). It wouldn't have been possible without the support of some great mates here at WDC-namely those who endured my daily blog rants about assorted thesis dilemmas. Thank-you. You know who you are, and I you for it. |
| April 08, 2008. Whether the Weather be: 41 (F) Cloudy Events of Note: Still unwell, but feel better OUT of bed. In the Nudes: Healthy baby girl born with two faces in India. In the spirit of Autism Awareness, I wanted to write about my cousin, Patrick. Patrick is a handsome man by any standards: tall, dark wavy hair and dark, beautiful eyes. I've often wondered what is really happening behind his eyes-in his mind, his imagination, his soul. Patrick was born in 1969. In the latter part of her pregnancy, his mother, my aunt, contracted Rubella (also known as German measles). As a consequence, Patrick lives with severe autism, intellectual disability and severe epilepsy, all of which are somehow inter-related and are a consequence of each individual disability. For the first seven years of his life, my aunt and uncle had Patrick living with them at home full-time. He was the third-born of four siblings-the three others were girls. I remember when my mother's family were terrified of having me around because of my own disabilities, but I was always lovingly accepted into Patrick's family for extended holidays, celebrations and quality family time. Perhaps part of the reason why, was my aunt and uncle-indeed that entire family, understood intuitively the very nexus of social rejection because your child (and their disability) is considered to be "freakish", "scary" or "dangerous" - even by the very people who should be loving and supportive of that child, as a loving person, and as a valuable human being. When I was younger, Patrick struck me as mainly being a mischief-maker and certainly not threatening at all. Fun-loving. Adored the trampoline, ate incredible stacks of banana sandwiches (he'd go through a case of bananas in just a few days), listened for hours to the Mamas and the Papas, and Petula Clark, and his favorite activity was outings in the family's Rover car. Whenever he wanted something, he'd come and grab your hand and show you what he wanted. He was not exactly mute, however he's never really spoken language in the traditional sense. At some point, a so-called speech language professional suggested that he be taught 'makaton'-a basic type of sign language used by some people with intellectual disabilities, but it never really worked for Patrick. Some weekends, Patrick would come up to visit us at our ranch-he loved the trip out from town in the car, and the open spaces of our farm. As the years wore on, and Patrick physically became bigger and more aggressive, my aunt and uncle decided to put Patrick into an institution during the week, and have him at home at the weekends. In 1994, under a government policy of denistutionalization, the psychopedic hospital where Patrick resided, was downgraded and gradually closed, and all of the residents were subsequently 're-integrated' into the community group home model. Understandably, it was a painful time for everyone, and especially for people like Patrick, living with severe autism, where predictability and routine is (for Patrick anyway) the cornerstone of Patrick's psyche, well-being and whole sense of personal stability. Patrick's parents worried about security under the community model-Patrick loved to climb, to escape, and was so fascinated by vehicles, that he would often break into them, just so he could imagine someone taking him for a drive. As a way of highlighting some of these kinds of issues, they reluctantly agreed to a documentary of their son being made for national television, as well as major newspaper coverage. Patrick's epilepsy and aggression steadily worsened and my aunt and uncle had to stop even weekend visits and outings back to their place for their own and staff's safety. Sadly, in so doing, my aunt and uncle unknowingly relinquished much of their decision-making authority where Patrick's health and well-being was concerned. Often informed in writing of medication and other significant changes, after the fact, as if they were mere spectators in their son's daily life. Even more disturbing, basic factual and medical information was given incorrectly by his 'carers'. It was a difficult balancing act, and still is. My aunt opened up to me at length about her worries and fears for Patrick, especially after my time working as a student assistant at one of the few remaining hospitals for people with severe intellectual disabilities. I think that it has often been all too easy for staff 'caring' for Patrick to exclude him from certain activity and community programs because he's 'difficult'. I don't say that lightly. Working in health and human services is demanding, and there are invariably a woeful lack of resources, and more people in need than can be realistically and safely catered for. The 'solution' from the 'service provider's' point of view is to keep Patrick constantly medicated, so that he can be more conveniently 'managed'. Patrick isn't a human being. He's a 'client'. What kind of quality of life is this?. I suppose that one upside, is that he hasn't ended up in prison (yet), but what happens to people like Patrick in the long-term is a nagging concern that will never really ease up. He is my cousin, and I love and care about what happens to him, very much. The light in his wonderfully dark eyes has diminished, and clouded over under the influence of drugs, and this seems to be the cruelest part of it all. We hope to get to see Patrick when we return to New Zealand. My husband has never met him, and neither has Anya. Maybe we'll take him a dozen banana sandwiches and a CD of "California Dreamin"?. |
| April 06, 2008. Whether the Weather be: 46 (F) Clear and cool. Events of Note: Brunch at the beach, and an afternoon in bed. In the Nudes: Cold-store explosion and fire in Waikato, NZ. Yeah, I'm feeling pretty yucky tonight. Viral illness is in full-swing. Propping myself up with hot tea and Tylenol at this point. Yesterday was awful, which was why I didn't blog much. Mostly MySpaced Out. I was pissy all day, which didn't help, because we had family gatherings and I had to 'seem' to be together. Did something that hurt my husband and that I'm not proud of, but he was (amazingly) supportive and understanding, and offered me a hug afterwards when I really, probably well-deserved a wicked hiding. "Beanie" went kayaking with her two uncles today, out in the Bay. She's a regular little beach baby, not spooked by surf at all. I'm exhausted, and I need to see if I can keep this Tylenol down, this time around. Tomorrow is a new week!. |
| I'm in a poisonous, piss-ant kinda mood today. So, I'm going to refrain from commenting or writing, in case I say something that I KNOW I will regret. Life sucks lemons right now, but I know that tomorrow...the sun will still come out. Have a good weekend!. See?. I can play nice-if I try. |
| April 02, 2008. Whether the Weather be: 50 (F) Sunny Events of Note: Beware: I'm in a cantankerous mood. In the Nudes: Irish PM ousted in disgrace. I've mentioned before how my Kiwi accent can be my downfall, despite my first language being The Queen's English. However, I also fell rather flat on my face when I was asked to do a copy editing test here in the U.S. Since my mother always ranted and raved about the increased use of "Americanised/Americanized' spellings in standard texts, I thought that she was exaggerating as usual. When she saw my script from the copy test, she and I agreed, that she was not. Aside from the 's' versus 'z' usages, there are ones like 'tire' (spelled tyre in New Zealand) and check (spelled cheque in New Zealand) as well as the 'o-r versus 'o-u' variance. In addition, since I was raised on a ranch, there are any number of colloquial terms that I still frequently use. I often sign my emails, with "Cheers"-making some of my U.S relations think that I'm a gin-sodden lush, when, actually, saying, "Cheers" is like saying "Best Wishes". I call our sweaters, 'jerseys' and my daughter's flip-flops, 'jandals' and when items are On Sale" at the drugstore, I say they're, "On Special" (which confuses my poor husband beyond belief-I like to tease and say innocently, "Oh, but isn't everything there already on sale?"). Jello is also known as either "Jelly" or "Instant Pudding" (and ought never to be confused). A Ford truck is a 'ute'. A friend is a friend, but Kiwis actually call their friends, "Mate"-again, can be the subject of ongoing domestic disharmony, especially if my "mate" is a guy  -kidding. Then there is the metric versus imperial measurement system, and the conversions that ensue. I was raised metric, but learned to bake in imperial measures (thanks to my maternal grandmother-bless her heart), but the speed limits are something to still figure on. Does that mean I get to pay any traffic fines in New Zealand Dollars?. |
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