Dying

Well, dear readers, it seems that with me, when it rains, it pours. Three posts in as many days that must be some kind of record!

Im writing this because I am sad. And not sad in the usual self indulgent way that I tend to be sad. I think I am sad for someone else, but Im not sure. On second thoughts, maybe I am sad for me.

Today I went to Bankstown Hospital and fed lunch to a woman who is dying.She is a member of my extended family- not actually a blood relative, but a member all the same. She is my cousin Adams grandmother. Her name is Roma.

I think we are actually the closest thing to family that actually comes and visits her. My cousin now lives in America. My cousins mother, her daughter, died almost ten years ago, after being in a vegative state due to a car accident when I was 3. She has two other grandsons, but she has no contact with them. She has two sisters, one who is as sick as her and cannot come and visit, and one whom she does not get along with. So its us who are her family right now.

My parents have been going in to see her every lunch time, because for some reason she refuses to eat when they are not there. So they bring her strawberry yoghurt and McDonalds cheeseburgers, because they are the only two things which seem to make her happy right now. The doctors have told my parents that she refuses to eat anything, except for when they are there. So they go, every day at 12 and spoon the food into her mouth.

My mother could not go today so I went in her place.

I remember Roma from my childhood. The Roma I remember is quickwitted and acid tongued. She could go a round of insults with my father like no-one on earth. She was active and busy. The Roma I remember loved a beer (just one) and told dirty jokes that forced my mother to cover my ears. She had died brown hair and a big cackle of a laugh.

In the bed at the hospital sat a tiny, frail, colourless imitation of a lifeform. Her hair, her skin and her eyes are all devoid of life and light. Her face is so thin and sallow that it is literally sucked under her cheek bones. Her hair is grey. Her eyes were creamy and sunken, with no sparkle. When I walked in I thought she was already dead.

When she woke up she was barely there. She didnt realise who we were at first. It probably took her 20 minutes to realise that we werent the nurses. She didnt remember that my parents had been there yesterday. She was confused.

My father held her and I fed her. Spooned strawberry yoghurt into her mouth, broke up the cheese burger into tiny pieces. Sometimes she fell asleep while we were feeding her, and would wake up and open her mouth for more. I fed her some of the puree'ed mess the hospital has given her- vegies and mince. And I held the cup of "liquid white" (dont ask but it looks revolting) that she has to drink since water is not thick enough and fills her lungs.

Roma has refused the IV that will get her better. So I guess in a way we are just feeding her so whe will die anyway. She wants to die, she told my mother, please let them make me die.

And as sad as it sounds, why shouldnt she be able to die? What has she got to live for? I know that I would not want to exist for an extra couple of years as a vegetable who is fed by nurses and cant shit for herself. I would hate to be alive for a couple more years to be put in a bed at a nursing home where I would rot til the end. She is ready to go and that is fair enough she is sick of the pain.

And the sad thing is I want her to. I wouldnt want to live the way she is living, with no dignity and no say in what happens. She has lived. She deserves to be able to let go.

Thats all.

SPAM

It has been brought to my attention that SPAM has been posted to my comments section which I feel is more appropriately used for CONSTRUCTIVE COMMENTING.

This is an outrage. Am I safe from spam NO-WHERE? Can I not be online and be free from this dreaded SPAM EPIDEMIC?

No, thank you, I do not need penis extension cream. And NO I do not need herbal viagra. I dont need free porn, on-line gambling or better security for my family. My computer may be at risk, THANK YOU VERY MUCH, but I think the biggest risk is that some poor unsuspecting person may actually BUY penis extension cream from you spam nazis and then they will end up with a sore penis and a nasty rash.

Spam is tacky commercialism in the worst way. And I generally dislike most forms of commercialism to be bluntly honest. But unfortunately, avoiding commercialism would mean hiding in my house, eating only the produce that is grown in my own garden and drinking only non-commercialised beverages like well...... water. Boar water. And of course it would mean no TV, no puter no radio and no movies.

However I have no garden, and no green thumb, nor do I have a boar (is that how its spelt) or intend to drink boar water. And if I give up mass media, I will not get to watch house or enter my freq club codewords, and I guess seeing CHARLIE AND THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY is out of the question. And, I am happily addicted to Pepsi Max.

So I guess the spam has to stay. But be warned, dear readers, THIS IS WAR. My filters will be on, and I will be ready to hunt down and shoot the next bastard who attempts to sell me an all natural weight loss miracle pill that guarantees to turn me into Angelina Jolie in 30 days or my money back.

I am done.

PMS

I have PMS. Thats right. Right this very second you are reading the rants of a female plagued with the dreaded PMS. If this is a frightening fact, please stop reading now. Actually wait. Dont stop. IF I HAVE TO PUT UP WITH THESE BLOODY RAGING HORMONES THEN ALL OF YOU BLOODY WELL SHOULD. Share and share alike, thats what I think.

I thought I had PMS last week, but it turns out that was a mere case of the mid-week blues. I havent had REAL PMS for a while, so I had forgotten what a raging PMS episode can feel like. WELL NOW I KNOW.

Firstly, I am completely irrational. And I mean completely. Anything that anyone says can be completely misconstrued and turned into something completely different. A simple look can mean that someone hates me. Laughter behind my back, even if it is obviously about something unrelated like porno pics involving 2 buffalo, is obviously aimed at me and they are obviously laughing at my expense. Anything said in the wrong tone means that the person who said it either hates me or thinks they are better than me.

I also have a very short fuse. For example: No carparks left in the carpark at the gym. Now without PMS I would drive around in a relatively calm and methodical manner unitl one became available. TODAY however I burst into tears of frustrated anger and burnt rubber around that lot for ten minutes, screamed out a very naughty word and then drove home fuming. I also abused a woman (in a 4WD of course) for trying to sideswipe me when she pulled out of a park without indicating or looking. Well not verbal abuse. But alot of horn action and a few rude gestures were sent her way. I spent 10 minutes screaming at some boofhead who decided it was a cool idea to do 40 in a 60 zone. I rammed the breaks on something fierce when some trashbag in a beat up van decided that it would be fun to sit right up my ass. I went off at the man in my life for a matter that is rationally not really a matter at all.

I am also incredibly teary. I have cried 4 times- no wait 5 times including the carpark rage- 5 times in the past 25 hours:

I cried while listening to "Your beautiful" on the radio- you know that bit where he says "I saw your face in a crowded place and I dont know what to do. Cos I'll never be with you"? yep set me right off. In fact I am starting to tear up again now.

I cried while listening to "Throw Your Arms Around Me" Also on the radio.

I cried while I was out walking and an old favourite song of mine came on that I forgot was loaded onto my MP3 player. Now I have to admit that its a christian song so I wont even bother to name it. But yep, walkin, sweatin and cryin I was.

I cried when I got home and tried to work out dinner for myself and couldnt find anything to eat that I wanted. Then I realised it was because I wasnt hungry and I think that made me cry even more.

And, of course, I cried while in the parking lot of the gym.

Finally, as much as a person who is in the state I am in should keep themselves hidden from rest of society until they have dragged themselves from the dregs of PMS hell, I crave human company. Well, more than that I want A BIG BLOODY HUG. Which is irrational as nobody in their right mind would dare to come near me let alon hug me. But there you go.

I am irrational, angry, teary and in need of affection.

GOD I WISH I WAS A MAN!!!!!!!

Faith

I am reading a book at the moment about a seven year old girl who is talking to god and healing people. She is unwittingly afflicted with stigmata. She is not religious or pious in any way. She is just a little girl who is doing what she feels is right. And of course, she is attracting a flock of religious fanatics, people who are willing to follow any little lead to touch a little piece of God.

So while I was enthroned today (some might like to call this particular activity a 'moment of contemplation') I began to ponder- what is it about faith and miracles that make these people so passionately defensive? Why will so many people who are otherwise sane and normal, stare in awe and wonder at a piece of toast that appears to have the face of Jesus burnt into it?

I mean really. Lets just look at the so called "appearances of the Lord" of late:

* Jesus appears to some guy on a piece of toast. This toast is then sold for a mint on the internet.
* Mary (who is not even GOD for crying out loud) appears in the shadows that appear on a fence line near the beach in Sydney.
* Some enlightened being finds the image of Jesus in the rings of a tree when he pulls a branch down
* A catholic statue of Mary starts to weep tears of milk at regular intervals. The statue is later found to have a TUBE THROUGH THE MIDDLE OF IT with milk being pumped through to the eyes.

Yeah these are crazy, and I am 100% certain even the most surreal of them (ie Jesus in tree) can be explained throught the laws of nature and with basic probability. It doesnt mean that they are second comings or religious messages. Hell, I saw Kurt Cobain in a cloud formation once, and Im pretty damn sure that doesnt mean hes a coming back to sell more records.

But even when these "miraculous appearances" are proven to be of science, or of human hands, people are still so eager to believe. And its not just christians and its not just christianity.

Think about when you read your stars. You flick to the page in the paper, find your starsign and have a quick read. Firstly, you pick out all the bits that you dont like. These you mentally bin, because they 'dont apply to you'. Then you re read the good bits. And then you start to believe that they will come true, no matter how flawed your method or the argument. Suddenly you are walking on air because 'a financial proposition will pay big dividends' or 'a strange man will bring exciting temptations'. There is no justification, no evidence and no proof that these things will happen. There is just you, a bogus medium and a lotta blind faith.

And there, my dear readers is the key. Blind Faith. We know its not real. We know its not true. But we are so desparate to believe in something we will do so without reason and without logic. We will do so blindly.

When we want to believe something so badly we will. When we want something so badly we will get it. Our brains are powerful things. I have no doubt that we can heal ourselves or make ourselves sick just by believing it.

I think I get the jobs I do, as underqualified and uneducated as I may be, simply because I believe that I am capable of the job. I think therefore I am. And I think its the same with blind faith.

If you have nothing to hope for and nothing to believe in, a little blind faith might make your day. And if you are that desparate for it to be true, then it becomes truth for you. Such is the power and strength of thought.

I dont know if blind faith is a bad thing. I dont know if its a good thing. But it is such a big part of the way so many people live their lives. I think it is interesting.

Thats really all I wanted to say. Til next times....

GGGRRRRR

Ok Im pissed off. And I fully intend to make my point and this is the place I am going to make it.

Now I warn you I am seriously angry. I am seriously angry and passionate about what I am angry about. Last time I was this angry I placed a misguided petition to GM on the web for big horns for small cars. And this issue affects me far more.

Ok, let me start at the beginning. Most people who know me know what I do for a job. And they know what I used to do. But if you dont know I'll just give you a brief fill-in: I used to be a transit officer, which is security and law enforcement on the public rail network. And now I am an enforcement officer for a local government.

As an enforcement officer, I have to do one shift a week of parking patrol. Now we have parking officers who do this 5 days a week. Basically they issue infringements to people who are not obeying the Australian Road Rules for parking.

Its not my most favourite job. Its not the most mentally stimulating job, and when you pop infringements on peoples windows for 8 hours you generally arent making any friends. But I have to do it, so I grin and bear it and try not to let the frustration of angry drivers get me down.

I mean fair enough. No one is ever happy to be told they are wrong. And they are especially unimpressed if they are told it by way of a monetary fine. I would be too. Hell I have been too. I have had a parking fine. And honestly it pissed me off bigtime.

But the other day, on a parking shift, myself and my partner were doing our job, minding our business. And a guy, about my age walked past. "Hey" he said "Look at that scum" I looked up at him "Thats right you. You are scum" Then he laughed and kept walkin.

It wasnt his car. Actually it was none of his business. But he thought that he was within his rights to call me scum. And keep walking. Im sorry- SCUM??

Last I checked I wasnt molesting young children.

Last I checked I was not selling runaways on the street as prostitutes and loading them with heroin so they cannot escape.

Last I checked I had not forced an entire race of people into slavery and then brutally murdered them and raped their offspring.

Now the week before this incident, on another parking shift, I was doing much the same, doing my job and minding my business, when a lady screams accross the road "you obviously dont have much to do" I turn and a very large lady with spiky hair and an angry face walking towards me.
I say "is this your car ma'am?" and she says "no its not but what right do you have to do that"
I start to go into my spiel- I am an authorised officer under the local government act- yadiyadi- when she FLASHES HER POLICE BADGE and then STANDS OVER ME with her fists clenched and raised and says: "you are a piece of shit". Then thumps one fist into the palm of her hand at me. Which, by the way can be considered a threat of physical violence and is an offence. A POLICE OFFICER.

Now bear in mind- this is me doing my job in my workplace. For all intensive purposes I am in my office. So let me turn the tables a bit:

You are at your desk, doing your work, answering your phones, putting your customers on hold for - oh 45mins is the norm- and I come walking into your office. "Your scum" I say. You look up. "Thats right, you. You are a piece of scum" I then laugh at you and walk away. What would you do? More than likely you would have me physically removed from the premises.

Or say I physically threatened you, took away your personal space and called you a piece of shit. Say I walked up and spat on you. Say I made you feel unsafe and threatened by my violent behaviour. What would you do? You would call the police and have me arrested is what you would do.

Now lets be honest: I am sure at least one person who is reading this is guilty of doing something like that to a parking officer, a ranger, a copper, a transit officer, or a security guard. And if that person is you, What gives you the right to abuse someone like that? Do you think they deserve it for just doing what they are employed and payed to do? Do you think its ok cos they are officers not people? IF I DID THAT TO YOU HOW WOULD YOU FEEL?

These are the people you ask for help when a car is parked over your driveway, when a dog is attacking you, when you are being harrased on a train, when someone has assaulted you. When the times get tough you rely on these people, but when they are performing a function of their job that you dont like you abuse them. That DISGUSTS ME.

To treat another human being with so little respect appalls me. I am ashamed to think that people I know do it too. Just because you dont like their job doesnt mean you have the right to treat them like second class citizens. And that goes for all jobs. And all people.

I am sorry this is such a long post but I am so upset about this.

Bye

Maitanence

Today, for the reading pleasure of the millions of female fans that I am sure that I have around the globe, I am going to bitch for a few hours about maitanence. So if you are male and therefore a bit puzzled by the whole strange and bizarre world of female beauty maitanence, you have two options:

1 Read on, and be enthralled by the world of a girl, her tweezers and her exfoliating mask

2 Stop reading now as the rest of this may be a little

joe is taking over this post..... family guy rulez... "fox was like do you want to make a new family guy movie" and then i was like " Fuck yeah!" ,Lois.

Well yes thanks very much to the man in my life for taking over and speaking words of absolute brilliance into my blog.... now where was I.....

Oh yes. 2 Stop reading this now as the rest may be a little overwhelming.....

I spent over an hour this evening confined in the very small and very claustrophobic space of my bathroom. This hour of my life, which I may add I will NEVER EVER get back, was solely devoted to the art of female maitanence.

I am plucked and exfoliated. I have smooth hairless legs. I can proudly lift my arms and not be afraid of small forestry projects. The hair on my head is clean, shiny and treated. My skin in johnsons milk wash smooth. And my "bikini region" as it is so politely put on the back of some packaging I came accross is about as close to good as you can get without paying some masochistic waxing fiend to do it for you. I guess you can say that on female terms, I am pretty socially acceptable right now.

Which brings me to my little bitch: WHY MUST WE GO THROUGH THESE INSANE BEAUTY REGIMES??? Why must we pluck and wax and tone? What purpose does it serve?? The pain we put ourselves through in the name of beauty is unbelievable! Not to mention the financial burden...

Let me quickly itemise- I have cleanser, toner, face moisturiser. Makeup remover. Eye cream. I have a state of the art venus razor, and sensitive skin hair removal mousse. I also recently purchased this rather nifty stuff called 'slo-gro' which is apparently meant to make the hair grow back sparser and finer- time will tell. I have body wash, body buffer, body moisturiser and body butter. I have exfoiliating scrub, an exfoliating glove and exfoliating masks. This is insane people.

On top of all these we have the maitanence that we pay others for. Now Im growing my hair and only get my eyebrows waxed every 4 weeks so I get off pretty lightly here. But .for those who get all that stuff done it can be pretty costly- not to mention painful.....

I know two girls who got brazilians and said it was more painful than childbirth. That means they would rather endure pusing a rockmelon through a mousehole than let a sadistic bleach blonde bimbo get at their rude bits with hot wax and canvas strips. Oh and did I mention that some people are allergic to hair dye? I had a red scalp for weeks once when they bleached streaks into my hair.

I wish that it would suddenly become fashionable to go natural. How easy would life be if it was sexy to be hairy and have straggly split ends? If wrinkles and cellulite were accepted? If it was ok to have a blackhead?

Sadly, I fear that this fantasy world will never exist. And, as hypocritical as this is, I will continue my maintanence until I am too old to grasp my razor and too blind to read the instructions on the hair removal mousse package.....

Im off now to exfoliate my bikini line and wax my face- or did I get that the wrong way round?...........