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Musings of the Misguided

Thursday, 28 February 2013

You can keep your bandwagon

The trouble with being on social media is that you see every single bandwagon there is to be jumped on.  I admit to jumping on a few, when they interest me or are something that I feel strongly about. What I don't like is being persecuted because I don't want in on the joy ride.  I chose what I want to be outraged about, I don't need your opinion forced on me.
 
The latest outrage, if my twitter feed is anything to go by, seems to be the word Cunt. Apparently as women we need to start reclaiming this word.  In simple terms the word cunt is used as a derogatory term for the female anatomy. So a feminist movement has started, saying that we need to reclaim this word from the men.  What if we never lost it in the first place?
 
It's a word, a word has as much power as you give it.  It may seem simple, but it's true.  If I call you a cunt, chances are that I kinda like you.  If I want to insult you I'm usually a little more inventive.  It's not really a socially acceptable word, so if I feel comfortable enough around you to use it, then chances are I count you as one of inner posse.
 
I very rarely use the word Cunt as a derogatory term.  When I do, I'm usually talking about a bloke and I'm not calling him a giant vagina.  My meaning is that well, he's really not a person that is worth my time. Just like reclaiming this word.  I've never lost it.  I just don't give it the power that other women do.  Cunt is certainly not the worst thing I have been called, far from it.  Maybe though that is because well I just don't see the badness of it anymore.
When I was a teenager I hated the word, thought it was vile.  Now? I just use it as an extra swearing describing word.  It kind of makes conversations seem a little more exciting. To me anyway.  The sentence 'The person was a little bit naughty so he needs to go over there, away from me', just doesn't sound the same without all of the describing words.
 
 So I won't be reclaiming the word in the name of feminism or any other cause because well I don't give the word the power that others do.  To me it's just another word.
 
What are your thoughts on the word cunt? Hate it, love it, or really couldn't care less?

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Creamy Cheese Chicken Pasta

I pretty much suck at all things housewife.  Give me a hammer and some tools and I might be a bit more comfortable.  When I do have a bit of a housewife win though I just have to share it with someone! You lucky devils!  Today's housewife offerings are a recipe for Creamy Cheese Chicken Pasta.  I got the basic recipe off the jar of Cheese Spread. Who knew you could use it to cook with!? Then I added my own little lazy housewife touches.
 


Creamy Cheese Chicken Pasta
 
Ingredients:
Cheese Spread. (Yes I'm serious, trust me on this)
Mustard (I used Honey Multigrain)
Chicken Thighs. ( I used two but if you are feeding more than 1 adult and a fussy toddler I would suggest more)
Onion (I used brown onion but it would be nice with spring onions or red onion)
Ham (or bacon)
Splash of milk
Veggies (I say veggies but all I added was corn)
Pasta (Because I am mum to a toddler all we had was simpsons pasta, it would taste nice with macaroni though)
Shredded Tasty Cheese.

Method:
1.  Dice the chicken and place in a frypan. Cook until heated through. Put the pasta on at the same time. Or if you are lazy like me just chuck them in the microwave.
2.  Add diced onion. Cook until onion is soft.
3.  Add Veggies.
4.  Add the Ham. If you chose to use bacon then it would probably be a good idea to add it earlier but ham is so much easier to use. 
5.  Add a splash of milk, 3 massive tablespoons of cheese spread and mustard to the frypan.
6.  Mix well, until everything is coated nicely with the cheese spread mixture. 
7.  Add a hanful of shredded cheese and mix well.  You will have a nice cheesy mixture.
8.  Combine the pasta and cheesy chicken.
9.  Take your pants off before consuming.

This whole meal took me 20 minutes to make. If you wanted to cut a few corners you could use a cooked chicken.

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Wednesday, 27 February 2013

Tina's Pet Peeves.

Today I have a great rant guest post from Tina of TinaGray{dot}me fame. She has a list of the things that drive her up the wall.  Make her welcome and also go check out her site for more great posts! 

A peeve or few

I remembered why it has been such a long time since my last guest post. It's a lot of pressure! Not only do I need to impress my own readers who will (hopefully) come over to read my post, but I also have the readers of Tegan's blog to impress.

If you've read just a couple posts on TGDM, you'll know that I don't tend to write ~ahem~ deep, thoughtful posts. I like to think of my blog posts as fluffy. The type that you read and click away smiling, thinking “awww” or “SO glad it's her and not me”.

So I spent valuable shower time -because it's the only place I can lock people out and have some alone time AND it's usually the place my best ideas come to me – thinking about what I was going to share with you.

And after doing some research (read: trawling through Tegan's archives) I noticed that Tegan doesn't mind a bit of a rant, so I figured I'd just word vomit a bit for your pleasure. Even though it still might seem fluffy to some. Heh.

There are a few things that have been pissing me off lately....

One... am I the only one who can't see the Coles sign on the roof of my house?... We've had neighbours (or their kids) come knocking on our door asking for toilet paper, sugar, cups of milk, money(!), and fly spray. Now don't get me wrong. I don't think there's anything wrong with borrowing a cup of sugar from the neighbour occasionally but when it's almost every week, and the same neighbours, it gets a bit tiresome. I shop for MY family, not for the neighborhood.

Two...  empty beer bottles on the chest freezer... the recycle bin Is. Right. Next. To. The. Fucking. Freezer. Literally. Move your arm like 5cm to the left, lift the lid of the bin and place your empties in there.



Three... trying to disguise sponsored posts as guest posts – don't email me and ask if you can “guest post” on my blog and be sneaky by inserting links into the post for the company you are working for. Your post is not a guest post. It is a sponsored post. If YOU get paid for every post you manage to get posted, then YOU can pay  for putting it on my blog.

Four... teenage attitude.... Good God, I could write an entire post on this right now. One of my children is about to hit thirteen and the attitude is starting to show. And the death stares. And the chatting back. I usually ignore it with a passing comment that I have three children older than her and I have already been there, done that. Oh and I was a teenager once too. I know all the tricks.

Five... back stabbing “friends”... The problem with having “online friends” is that you don't REALLY know them. Unless of course your relationship has gone beyond the interwebz and you hang out with those friends often. I try to be nice to everyone and if anyone asks for help, I will. If I can. But to be taken advantage of is really sucky. And there really are no secrets on the interwebz. Excuse me if I am not so generous with my time and knowledge any more.

Six... my Sharpies going missing... yes, it is enough for me to go psycho on you. Sure, you can borrow my things but if I need to go looking for my own things, you will be in trouble.

So there you have it. A bit of a snapshot of what goes on in my head.

Now excuse me while I tend to the kid at my door asking for a hole punch.

Bio: When she's not blogging at Tina Gray {dot} Me, she's being mum and wife, trying to create a bit of organisation in Chez Gray, playing tourist in her own town, taking lots of photos, eating sushi and playing music loud enough for her teenagers to tell her to turn it down.

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Tuesday, 26 February 2013

The Physical Side of Mental Illness

It's no secret that having a Mental Illness is fucking hard. It takes over every part of your life, until you start to wonder where you end and the illness begins.  However what about the physical side effects. Not just the tiredness and lack of motivation, but the long term effects. The effects, that once you are stable on meds, still come back to bite you in the arse.
 
A lot of people who have a mental illness need to be on medication to stay stable. For some people they will be on that medication for the rest of their life.  These medications can have long term side effects.  These can include softening of the enamel on your teeth, restless leg syndrome and sensitivity to sunlight.  For these people there is no alternative. You take the medication that works the best with the least crappy side effects. 
 
Another swell physical side effect of many anti-psychotics is weight gain and increased appetite. Yep because I hate my body enough already without ballooning to twice my size while deep throating the entire bakery because you just never quite feel full enough. When I was on zyprexa I put on 10kg in 7days while still exercising and eating how I normally do. 
 
When you can barely drag yourself out of bed every day, and most days you don't then the finer points of personal hygiene fall by the wayside.  Teeth brushing falls to the wayside. Showers only when you need to leave the house. Food involves things that are easy to make, generally coming straight out of a packet. All of this, coupled with medication that softens the enamel on your teeth, means that a few years down the track your teeth are going to be shit.  No amount of making up brushing will stop it because your teeth are the only part of your body that doesn't regenerate itself.
When I felt myself on the cusp of letting go, I would go walking, late at night, barefoot. I didn't care about myself and the damage that it was doing at the time.  I would walk across glass, anything that would cause pain.  As a result my feet are now super sensitive. Even standing in good shoes for longer than 30 minutes hurts. It feels like my bones are bruised.
 
I have scars from my wrists to my shoulders. My arms are nothing but scar tissue. This makes a few things difficult. Taking blood was already a pain in the arse, now it's damn near impossible. Pregnancy was fun.  I can never escape the looks. I love summer but feel more comfortable in Winter. I can wear long sleeves, I look like any 'normal' person. I don't have to deal with people who think that I am blind and can't see them pointing at me.
 
Do you suffer from a Mental Illness or does a family member? What are the long term side effects that you have witnessed.

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Saturday, 23 February 2013

Unofficial Guide to Twitter

Image from here

Even though the title says that this a 'guide' to twitter, it's not one of your run of the mill do as I say guides. I'm not interested in telling you about the etiquette of twitter because quite frankly I don't give a shit what you feel the need to post on your twitter. If I don't like it, then I unfollow you. If it's really dodgy then I will block you so that you cannot follow me.  So if you feel the need to talk about that giant pimple on your arse then you go right ahead sunshine. It's your freaking timeline.
 
So can you stop waffling on and tell us what this damn post is about already?, I hear you ask. It's about making the most out of twitter for you. That's right it's all about you.  A lot of my friends don't understand twitter and find it quite boring. So that prompted me to write this little guide.
 
1. Find some real people to follow. Twitter is about conversation so if everyone you are following is a celebrity and never replies to anything you ask or say to them, then it's going to be pretty boring. If you want to find out more about celebrities, just save yourself the hassle and buy a trashy magazine.
 
2. Search for topics that interest you and you might find some tweeps that are interesting to you. There are over 2 million users on twitter. I'm sure you will find someone that tickles your fancy.
 
3. Don't be afraid to get involved in a conversation. Like I already said Twitter is about conversation so get put yourself out there. You might just find some new people with similar values and interests to follow.
 
4.  Follow some parody accounts. Life is already too serious, we all need a bit of humour in our day.
 
5. I know that I said that this wasn't a what not to do guide but this one has to be said. Don't click on those fucking links.  You know the ones you get via DM or from half naked chick telling you she saw a cute photo of you? Yeh them. Don't click on them because they will spam everyone you follow and that's really not good for making people want to continue to follow you.
 
What are your tips for people wanting to get the best out of twitter?

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Friday, 22 February 2013

Sleep is for the weak...apparently

It's finally the end of the longest week in the history of long weeks.  That also means that it's FFS Friday time again.  Sarah is handing the reins over to her hubby this week so pop over and see what he has to say! 



Two weekends in a row now Devil Papa has said that he wants to spend some boy time with Devil Spawn. Two weekends in a row that has involved him having a 5 hour nap FFS
 
It was raining Monday so I couldn't take transport to daycare so I decided to keep Devil Spawn home and have a movie day inside. It was a great idea, at least for the first hour FFS
 
Devil Spawn sleep dodges like you wouldn't believe. Monday night he was screaming so much about not wanting to go to bed that he vomited. I had just told him to come out into my bed. He vomited all over me FFS
 
Wednesday morning Devil Spawn decided that 3am is a perfectly fine time to start the day FFS
 
He crashed without a fuss at 630pm Wednesday night NO FFS
 
He woke up at midnight and the only way I could get him back to sleep was by holding his hand. Of course my arm took this opportunity to do it's weird twitching thing. Every time my arm twitched it would wake him up. FFS
 
Devil Spawn slept until 8am on Thursday morning NO FFS
 
I finally had some for thought and bought some snacks for after Devil Spawn goes to sleep. I haven't felt like any of it FFS
 
I accidentally deleted the account that I use for my commenting system. This deleted all of the comments associated with it on the blog including everyone elses FFS
 
I went to get my renewed Mental Health Plan on Tuesday. My doctor told me to make the most of it because she wasn't writing anymore. I should be over it by now according to her FFS
 
This was after me having to cancel a psychologist appointment because of her dragging her arse about writing it in the first place FFS
 
I need to find a new GP who has some sort of experience with Mental Health who also bulk bills. The chances are pretty slim FFS
 
I still haven't heard from the public Mental Health System about my referral that was sent in September. Not even a letter to say that I am on a waiting list FFS
 
What's been pissing you off this week? Have a whinge in the comments so I don't feel like the only one here. 

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Wednesday, 20 February 2013

Commenting Made Easy

Yesterday Salz from Salz Dummy Spits wrote a great post about how to comment on a blog. It got me thinking about the other side of the coin.  What can bloggers do to help make commenting on a post that much easier?
 
1.  Firstly...get rid of damn capture. The codes are damn near impossible to read. When I get one fist go I feel like I have cracked The Da Vinci Code or something similar.  If it doesn't work the second time then I give up. I have a short attention span.  Like toddler short.  If you don't know how to get rid of it, I've gone to the trouble of googling it for you. http://www.ehow.com/how_12101876_rid-captcha-blog.html
 
2. If you have captcha, don't have moderation as well. It's just overkill. Do one or the other. Moderation is easier for everyone. You get to scan the comments before they go live and the people who want to comment on your blog don't have to jump through 1000 hoops to leave a comment. If things are too hard, people won't comment.
 
3.  Interact with the people who comment on your blog. If someone has asked you a question, or even taken the time to comment on your blog, make some kind of effort to reply to it.  It makes your readers feel included and that's how you start a community, by not being an Ice Queen who thinks they are holier than thou.
 
4.  Ask questions to get people involved.  I know that sometimes I don't know what to reply to a post beyond 'great post'. Talk about things that make your reader want to engage with you.
 
5.  Don't leave comments in moderation too long. I'm really bad for this because I forget to check moderation.  As a reader though I know how frustrating it can be to go back a day  later to a post that you have commented on, to find that your comment still hasn't appeared.  It can make you feel that the comment has been deleted or completely ignored on purpose. Or maybe that's just my paranoia.
 
As a commenter on blogs...what is your suggestion to bloggers to make things easier for you? What are your pet hates when you try to comment on a blog?

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Tuesday, 19 February 2013

The truth is better than any story

I've shared with you all before that I have been in jail before.  I was there for 2 months. Two long months.  Two months is certainly long enough to know what the routines are, what is expected and to miss the things that you take for granted in the 'outside world'.  It's this experience that makes me pissed off when I see people make flippant remarks about how 'easy' criminals have it in jail.  It's certainly easier for a lot of people than being out on the streets, but it's certainly no walk in the park.
 
I won't go into what I did to end up in jail in this post because it's all in the post I have made before.  For ease of conversation however I will say that my crime is categorised by the law as a violent crime. Even though I had no intention of hurting anyone but myself, the law likes to put everything in nice, neat little boxes.  I was refused bail and spent three days in a watch house.  I went to court once in that time.  So it is with great interest that I watch news programs talk about the 'injustice' that celebrities (if you could even call them that) receive when they are taken into custody.
 
Stripping from head to toe in front of two officers is horrible, you feel disgusting but it's a necessary part of the custody process. While some officers may take their role a little too seriously, this act is not done with the sole purpose of humiliation, despite what the sensationalised media will tell you.  It's necessary to protect both yourself and the people you will be sharing a cell with. Yes there is a high chance that you will have to share.
 
What are they looking for? Contraband.  Once again if you listen to the media then this only stretches to drugs. It's not. It's anything that can be used as a weapon, both on yourself or someone else.  It includes things like belts, shoelaces, drawstrings, any belongings on your person as well as the more obvious things such as drugs, alcohol and tobacco.  These things are not taken off you to make your life more difficult on purpose, they are there to protect you.  Everyone goes into the cell with the same thing, stand over tactics are reduced this way.
 
Another aspect that makes me roll my eyes is the idea that prisoners get 3 hot meals a day.  The meals might be hot when they leave the kitchen..an hour before they are served to the prisoners but they are definitely not hot when they are consumed.  Ever eaten pasta when it's stone cold? It's like eating glue.  Far from the five star treatment that the media would like to lead the public to believe.  If you live in the residential area, you must get a job so that you can pay for your own food and cook it.  Before you get scared about the prisoners being out amongst the public, these jobs are things like mowing the prison grounds, working in the kitchen, jobs within the jail. 
 
For a few of the prisoners that I shared a section with, them being in jail is better than their life outside.  They have somewhere to sleep, food is definitely coming and they don't have to deal with abusive family members.  It's easy to be grateful for little when you are used to nothing.  

Linking up with Essentially Jess for #IBOT

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Monday, 18 February 2013

I must confess: I'm fucking scared of all this shit



I'm linking up with My Home Truths for I must confess this week.  I love that she gives a prompt each week or you can just go all gun-ho and confess your darkest secrets. Whatever tickles your fancy.  I'm fresh out of deep dark secrets so I decided to play along with this weeks prompt:  Fears and Phobias.
 
Emus: The damn giant flightless birds send a shiver up my spine.  When the zoo here first opened, the Australian animals were in an open enclosure that you walked through.  The kangaroo's and wallabies all laying around are cute.  The Emu, was not so much.  One trip, one followed me from one gate to the other.  I was around 3 at the time.  I've been petrified of them ever since.  The enclosure at the zoo has since been changed so that we are on one side and the emus on the other. I still walk through the place pretty damn fast though.
 
Cockroaches: They are slimy and even killing them grosses me out because they make that horrible crunching sound. 
 
Dentists: It took me 2 months of daily pain before I got the courage up to go get my tooth ripped out. Then she told me to come back the next day for more...yeh that wasn't going to happen.  It's not the pain, its the sounds. The drill freaks me out, especially when you can feel it grinding away your tooth. *shudders*
 
Needles: I don't faint at the sight of them or anything like that but I can't look at them. When I was 12 a nurse told me that if I didn't see the size of the needle then it wouldn't hurt as much. I've stuck to that rule ever since and refuse to look at the needle.  Ever. I will even close my eyes if it means I don't have to see the needle.  Yes the irony isn't lost on me.
 
Heights:  In grade 11 we had a leadership camp. It involved rock climbing and high ropes aka my own personal idea of hell.  I ripped open my hands helping people to climb the high ropes, just so I didn't have to do it.  I hate standing on a chair and usually get Devil Papa to change light bulbs for me. 
 
What are you scared of?

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Sunday, 17 February 2013

Selfishness and Parties


 A conversation on twitter yesterday got me thinking about my 21st.  In Australia the big parties seem to be the 18th, 21st and then the decades there after.  My 18th was pretty non event so I was holding out for my 21st.  The universe however had other ideas. I was 6 months pregnant with Devil Spawn for my 21st so my birthday was a no alcohol for me event.  I wanted to just go to the local pool and laze around in my giant pregnant state but apparently that was unfair to all of my other able to drink guests. Whatevs
 
Just to throw another spanner in the works Devil Papa also got shingles in the week before the party so he was too tired to stay much longer than a couple of hours.  It did make the night relatively cheaper though as two of the biggest drinkers were out of action!
 
My family traveled down for it (7 hours so was a bit of a hike for them) and we had dinner at a local pub. I had a few friends come along and it started off as a nice night.  Until one annoying friend, who is no longer my friend, started to complain.  Some part of her brain malfunctioned and she thought that the night was about her. Her brain malfunctioning is all that I can think of because surely no one is as selfish as she acted that night.
 
The party started at 630pm (I think, the memory is a bit fuzzy) and after half an hour she was complaining that she was bored and wanted to know when we planned on going clubbing.  As I already mentioned, my family had traveled 7 hours to be here, they sure as hell deserved more than 30 minutes of my time.  Also no one in their right mind goes clubbing at 7pm, there is no one out and you look like a dick.
 
My party was also a sit down dinner...no one had eaten.  If you have ever been pregnant or been around someone who is pregnant, then you know that nothing stands between a pregnant woman and her food.  Especially at the particular pub we were at. They are known for their giant meals.  Devil Papa and I go there regularly and often take left overs home as there is enough for another meal.
I tried to ignore said friend to no avail. She was adamant that we must leave as soon as possible for the clubs.  She even made a point of walking out in a huff (aka adult sized tantrum) after I had said for what felt like the 1000th time that no we were not going anywhere yet. I hadn't made plans to go clubbing at all but if the opportunity arose I'd take it. 8pm was not the opportunity that I saw.
 
The party came to a close and a few of us decided to go to a large hotel that was in the vicinity of the clubs but not completely full of douche bags.  As I mentioned, I was six months pregnant at the time and just wanted to dance without someone grinding their groin on me.  As the hotel was mainly filled with middle aged women at the time, instead of getting my arse grabbed there was lots of belly rubbing to feel like Devil Spawn kick.  He obliged by doing his usual Mexican wave across my stomach. 
 
This 'club' was obviously not to the standard of which my 'friend' was hoping for.  She once again still forgot that it was in fact my party and we were going where I damn well said we were. Yes I was an only child for 11 years...how did you guess?  She complained and huffed about how we weren't doing what she wanted to do. 

After my parents left, I told her to go do what she wanted because I was sick to death of her attitude.  I was pretty reserved and had to tell another friend who was there at the time to leave it, because I was very close to telling her to go fuck herself.
While this friend didn't ruin my night, it made the night very unpleasant.  Her selfish actions left a sour taste in my mouth and it wasn't too much longer after that, that I cut her out of my life completely.
 
Have you had a party ruined by someone else's attitude?

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Wednesday, 13 February 2013

Valentines Wordless Wednesday

I decided to get a little creative and create some valentines ecards with a twist.  Linking up with My Little Drummer Boys for Wordless Wednesday



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Tuesday, 12 February 2013

Silver Linings Playbook

I went to see Silver Linings Playbook today.  I just couldn't let it go without sharing it with you.  It was a beautifully orchestrated movie. A movie that spoke to me in ways that I don't think a movie has ever done.  I felt part of the story, I found myself immersed in the story line, hoping for the same things the characters did.
 
I'm a bit of a sucker for movies and books about mental illness so I knew that this was a movie that was going to be on my 'must see' list.  I am always anxious to see just how a director has portrayed the mental illness, how 'real' it feels.  I don't like comedies about mental illness. They make me feel disgusted that so far into the 21st century we are dealing with 'making fun' of things that people everywhere, everyday struggle with. I can assure you that they don't think it's a laughing matter.
 
Silver Linings Playbook was the first movie that I have ever seen that really portrayed mental illness in a respectful way.  The director made you fall in love with the characters, despite their 'damage'.  I could really relate to the characters, they were real people, people who you could imagine living next to you, people that you've met. In fact Pat Jnr reminded me of some of the patients I have encountered during my inpatient stays. 
 
The talk of medication was something that I myself have done countless times with other patients. You scope each other out, figure out who is the 'crazier' one.  It's always the other person.  Which kind of adds to your own delusion.  The struggles of the family were also raw and gut wrenching.  The family were doing everything they could to help their son, and nothing seemed to work.  Robert De Niro was  a surprising addition as Pat Snr. I teared up right along with him when he poured his heart out to his confused son. 
 
Even if you don't have a mental illness yourself, I think you will be touched by this story.  A love story with a twist.  A story where you find yourself sitting on the edge of your seat, hoping he gets the girl.  This movie really offers insight into the lives of the people who both suffer from mental illness and those who love them.  The acting was superb and really gave life to the story. Nothing was over acted, it made you feel that things were that much more real. 
 
If you haven't already, I really suggest you go and see this movie. It will stay with you, it will make you think and it will make you feel. Take your tissues though, because it will touch you in ways that you didn't thing were possible. 

Here's the trailer, just in case you weren't convinced 
 

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Pong Iphone Case Review

I received one Pong Iphone case for the purpose of this review.  All opinions are my own.
 
When I first read about the Pong case, I admit I was skeptical. Which in turn meant that I had to try it for myself to find out if the case lived up to the hype created by the makers.  I was expecting a quite big case that was pretty ugly but was pleasantly surprised.  While the case was a bit heavier than normal Iphone cases, it wasn't clunky or ugly.  The case comes is available for use with Iphone, Ipad, Blackberry and Samsung and comes in 7 different colours. 
 
Pong Research boasts "Pong Research is the first and only maker of technologically advance Smartphone and Ipad cases that improve device performance and protect users against cellular and WI-Fi radiation.  Compared to standard Smartphone and Ipad cases, Pong's cases have been proved in independent laboratories to improve reception, increase range, conserve battery life, accelerate download and upload speeds and reduce a user's exposure to electromagnetic radiation by up to 95% below international safety limits
Developed by a team of PhD scientists trainted at MIT, Princeton, Harvard and the University of Manchester, all Pong cases are embedded with a multi-patented antenna system that redirects electromagnetic radiation that would otherwise be absorbed by the users' head and body"

 
Included in the package was a screen protector and a micro fibre cloth.  The micro fibre cloth was great. My Iphone has been in a case since I bought it, which means that I have a lot of dirt built up where the case and the phone meet.  The cloth just wiped it straight off. 
 
I have never had a screen protector on my phone. In fact mine came with one and I took it off. They always seem to bubble and make it harder to use touch screen.  So I was skeptical to put the screen protector on and didn't really want to.  When I put it on, I was pleasantly surprised.  The screen went on seamlessly and the only place that it bubbled was around the crack I have near the top of my screen. In fact when I tried to take the screen protector off, I struggled to remove it as I couldn't find where it started! 
 
I can't accurately comment on the decrease in radiation exposure as, like a number of other housewives, I don't have a radiation detector laying around the house. I seem to have every other strange appliance, but sadly not a radiation detector.  What I can comment on however is the battery life and reception.
 
It's no secret that the Iphone has awesome capabilities but crappy battery life.  Unfortunately from what I could tell, this case didn't change that.  With normal use, the battery power was much the same as it always is, crappy. I was disappointed as I am always looking for ways to avoid having to charge my phone multiple times a day.
 
Since the floods, Telstra reception has been pretty dodgy so I was anxious to find out if the case improved the reception and was happy to find that it did! Lately the mobile internet has been closer to dial up speed and extremely painful to use. You really don't notice how much you use your internet on the phone until you can't.  While I had the case on I was able to access social media, netbank and the all important bus timetables.  It really makes life so much easier.  I was impressed too that I had more bars of reception out at Devil Papa's place than I normally do. Making internet access that little bit less painful.
 
If you want to pick up your own Pong Smarphone or Ipad case check out www.pongmobile.com.au or your local Platinum Communications Kiosk in Westfield Shopping Centre Australia-wide. RRP from $49.99 AUD.

Linking up with Essentially Jess for IBOT

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Saturday, 9 February 2013

Self Worthless

I've  been thinking a lot lately...yeh, yeh I know it's dangerous but sometimes we have to do it, you know to be a grown up and all that.  What I have been thinking about in particular is the correlation between what we think about ourselves, deep down and how we conduct ourselves.
 
I don't think particularly high of myself. I have gotten past the point of completely worthless but only by a couple of points.  I still don't feel the love for myself, and it was kind of like an 'aha' moment laying in bed the other night that made me realise just how much it manifests itself into my life. How it shows in the things that I do and how I treat things.
 
One of the 'joys' of Borderline is that I tend to put people up high, above myself. This gets me into trouble and it puts me in the position of not realising when people are just rotten.  I am so eager to please, that I fail to see the shit people do and brush it under the rug because that is what I deserve. Then I look around, realise that I am losing the people who aren't shit and it's confusing. Something that I am working on, learning to trust my judgement and not feel that I am the only one to blame when a relationship goes sour.
 
This feeling however doesn't just extend to interpersonal relationships and how I portray myself to others. It also has an effect on how I take care of my possessions.  It hit me the other day that I take care of things that other people have bought me better than I do the things that I have saved and bought myself.  I even have the subconscious thought that it's mine so it doesn't matter.  A thought that I have about myself often. It's only me, what does it matter. 
 
I write my decisions off, I don't put my thoughts forward and just kind of go with the flow.  I pretend that it doesn't matter.  I want better for myself but I'm just not sure if I deserve it.
 
Do you suffer from the 'not good enoughs'? What do you do to make yourself feel a bit of worth?

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Friday, 8 February 2013

FFS Friday 8th Feb

It's FFS Friday time again. Time to get my bitch on!
 
This week has been fucking hard FFS
 
It's gotten worse as the week has worn on FFS
 
Stupid people are all up in my line of sight and apparently it's still illegal to kill them FFS
 
I have taken Devil Spawn out in public twice this week. Both times he was an embarrassment and I wanted to crawl under the nearest rock FFS
 
Our water is still dirty...it has taken on a brown colour. There is no way I am bathing in that FFS
 
My 30 minutes of peace for the day is to chuck Devil Spawn in the bath and let him play until his heart contents. I'm not putting him in stinky brown water FFS
 
Apparently Chrissie Swan being snapped smoking is more newsworthy than an earthquake in the Solomon Islands FFS
 
Did I mention people are stupid FFS
 
I got a tooth pulled on Monday. My face still hurts FFS
 
I also have a sore throat FFS
 
I am tired and can't sleep all at the same time FFS
 
Apparently commenting on how fat a pregnant blogger has gotten is constructive criticism FFS
 
Every single morning this week I have been woken by a 3.5yo screaming in my face FFS
 
It doesn't end until he finally goes to sleep sometime after 9 FFS
 
Monday and Tuesday are daycare days, the days that I have to relax. My neighbours, every week without fail, use this day to use power tools all day FFS
 
They don't do it any other day of the week and they don't work FFS
 
What's been pissing you off this week? Let me know in the comments.
 
Linking up with Dear Baby G

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Thursday, 7 February 2013

Hiding in the quiet

Do you know what it's like to have too much noise in your head? When the world is too noisy and there is nothing you can do to quieten it?  You listen to music to try to block it all out, but it just makes you feel worse.  You feel agitated and messy. Nothing is right.  Everything is annoying.  You can't quite put your finger on what it is that is wrong.
 
The world is too hard, too harsh. It is easier to lock yourself away, to pretend it doesn't exist. You crave contact, but it's too much. You feel constantly on edge because you have concocted in your head a story that is more fantasy than fiction.  You imagine what everyone is thinking, saying. Laughter is meant for you, you become agitated, ready to snap at the first person who dares to look at you the wrong way. 
 
Waking is too hard. Your head is constantly heavy. It's easier to have your eyes closed. Easier to pretend that there is no one else there. Everyday is a blanket over your head kind of day. It feels too hard.  Simply getting out of bed feels like an effort. An effort that you struggle with.  An effort that you wonder if it's worth it. 
 
Have you walked on the beach, in the soft sand with thongs full of sand, up a hill? It's a struggle. Your body aches and you aren't sure if you can keep going.  That is what it's like everyday. Just when you think you are near the end, another hill appears. You want to give up but even that seems like too much effort. You look around, notice all of the mess piling up around you, knowing you should do something about it. Knowing that there is nothing that you could possibly do about it.
 
You can see the parts of your life that are suffering, know that there are things you should be doing.  You can't quite do it.  It's easier this way. But it's not.  Even keeping up a conversation is too much. You stay polite. Hiding away as soon as you get home. Keeping correspondence to messages and social media.  Plastering on a smile. Pretending you aren't dying inside.  

You want to walk away and never look back. Your finger is on the button. You want to make the call but know it will be pointless. Really. You need time out, time to gather yourself. Time where you don't have a little person to answer to. Time where you have no one but yourself to answer to. Time where you can just put the blanket over your head. Admit defeat and start rebuilding yourself.
 
Admitting it is the first step...it's all uphill from here.

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Wednesday, 6 February 2013

Wordless Wednesday: Flood

When it floods and you live near a beach...the water tends to turn a nice brown colour...as does the drinking water.  








Linking up with My Little Drummer Boys for Wordless Wednesday.
 

Tuesday, 5 February 2013

PMS can bite me

PMS or Premenstrual Syndrome is a bit of a touchy subject. A subject that seems to gather a lot of 'of she must be on her rags' comments from the more dense variety of the opposite sex.  PMS however is a very real syndrome for a lot of women.  Better health Channel says that up to 75% of women experience mild symptoms, while 20-30% experience more severe symptoms that can affect their mental well being.
 
The symptoms of PMS differ from woman to woman.  They can range from the physical such as bloating, weight gain, acne and swollen, tender breasts.  Many women also experience emotional symptoms such as decreased self esteem, moodiness, decreased/increased sex drive and anxiety.
 
There is also there more serious symptom of depression and suicidal ideation.  This is a symptom that I experienced.  It was horrible.  In the week leading up to my period, my depression reached new lows.  I couldn't get out of bed.  I didn't see the point. Many of my suicide attempts coincided with my period.  I just couldn't see the end. Even though I had dealt with this every month, I couldn't see the light at the end of the tunnel. The stress overrode the limited amount of coping mechanisms that I had.
 
When I was a teenager, one of my psychiatrists warned me to never go on Depo Provera for contraception.  After I feel pregnant and had to go cold turkey on all of my medication, I knew that I couldn't/didn't want to go through that again.  It was a roller coaster of emotions and mood swings.  I needed a contraception that I didn't have to remember to take every day because lets face it, some days I would forget my head if it wasn't screwed on.  I wanted something that I could just do it and then it works and something that wasn't invasive.  I have a lot of scar tissue on my arms, and so I wasn't able to get the rod in my arm, that left me with Depo.   

I do feel some of the effects of the Depo.  I have a consistent low mood that I am fighting...however it is much better than the PMS that I used to experience.  My crisis points are now further apart, rather than every single month.  It gives me time to work on my skills, hone in on the strategies that I already have.
 
Do you suffer from PMS badly? What are you never fail techniques to help lighten the load each month? 

Linking up with Essentially Jess for #IBOT 

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Sunday, 3 February 2013

I plead insanity

 We all have those relationships in our past that make us think WTF, was I drunk the entire time.  Whenever Devil Papa and I are having a bit of rough patch, I go and Facebook stalk one ex, lets call him Dick, just to remind myself where I could be.  It certainly helps bring me back to reality! Dick is six beers short of a six pack..even that is being generous.  I of course claim insanity, alcoholism and any other decision impairing substance for that little blight on my history.
 
Our relationship was short, mostly of me being drunk, him being naive and a relationship that looked more like mother and son to the outsiders.  Someone once remarked to me that if I ever fell pregnant to this guy that she'd hope that it would inherit my brain and not that fathers lack of, so that I could at least have an intelligent conversation with someone.  Our relationship ended when I sobered up a bit and realised what the hell he was really like. 
 
Even after we broke up, he kind of hung around for a while.  Like a lost puppy or something.  At the time I was living in hostel like accommodation, with 6 other women.  We were all crackers so it made for an interesting living arrangement, one that always meant someone had alcohol.  One of the 'rules' was that there was to be no men staying, a rule we all broke regularly. It was kind of an unwritten rule, you keep quiet, don't cause a fuss and everyone will turn the blind eye cos they've no doubt done worse.
 
One particular day Dick decided to pay me a visit and rode a push bike from his place on the other side of town, to my place...a journey of about 7km.  He put his bike in front of the house, thinking it would be safe inside the yard.  Upon leaving the house again, we discovered his bike was gone. One of the ladies, who I was friendly with was sitting on the steps. I asked her if she had seen what happened to the bike. She took one look at me, and promptly burst out laughing.  She was laughing so hard she had to go and get her asthma inhaler before telling us what had happened to the bike....
 
It had turned out one of the other ladies had thought some hooligan (the thought of Dick having the forethought to commit a crime still makes me laugh) had pinched a bike and dumped it at our house...so she called the police to have it picked up.  Surprisingly they were pretty prompt and had taken the bike to the police station already.  A phone call to the boys in blue revealed that Dick would have to go down to the station to identify his bike.
 
I decided that I should tag along, you know for shits and giggles. Plus the bottlo was on the way.  There was plenty of giggling the whole walk there, all 12 blocks of it. More from me, less from Dick.  I figured he'd tell them what his bike looked like and be over with it, turned out I was wrong, things were about to get a hell of a lot funnier...well for me anyway, well at least after I finished explaining to them that, no I wasn't there to sign in and doing three times a week was enough thanks folks.  I'm here with this dickhead, seemed to clear it all up though.
 
As the plot thickened, it turned out that the bike was his mates and he couldn't remember exactly what it looked like. Not one single detail.  Something which I didn't know until he was asked by the officer in charge.  Long story short, they wouldn't give him the bike.  Cue more laughter from me.  He then had to ring said mate, who had no idea that Dick had borrowed his brand new bike and tell him that he had to pick his bike up from the police station.  To say his mate wasn't impressed, was an understatement. 
All in all it was an afternoon of entertainment still makes me laugh even now, 6 years later.
 
Do you have an ex in your closet that you'd rather forget? Share your stories, make me feel a little better about Dick.

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