Rapid Cycling and Opera v9.5
Tuesday, 17. June 2008, 23:34:34
Hello,
Well I'm sure I've dicussed rapid cycling before so I'll try not to harp on about it. Basically one day I'm happy as a lark and not sleeping, the next i'm barely able to drag myself out of bed and feed myself...Today's theme song is "I just wanna die" sung to the tune of "I just wanna fly" by Sugar Ray. Cheerfully singing about my own demise. lol, that's why rapid cycling is the most dangerous cycle a bipolar person can be in...it the cycle we're most likely to top ourselves in as we actually have the energy to act upon our thoughts of death.
So enough about that I'll chat on about this latest edition of Opera (the browser incase you've happened upon this page without knowing what opera is). Well, I downloaded and installed v9.5 and thought "Fantastic!". I loved the new skin and it's ability to alter the colour theme so easily. Everything transported easily enough...although I did have to fiddle around a bit to get my bookmarks just as I like them (why do upgrades insist upon not listing them exactly the same as you saved them?). I looked at the windows skin and decided that it wasn't very nice in comparison to the new opera one and switched right back...but ever since then I've had problems with it freezing. All windows go blank except for the very top bar of the window...which is most irritating! Especially when it happens numerous times in an evening online. At least just closing the browser via ctrl+alt+del lets me reopen it without rebooting. Also, if you've got something downloading why doesn't it automatically start up again upon reopening the browser? It's such a hassel having to go into my transfers and restart them each time I freeze up! So I'll put up with the freezing as I'm sure the Opera crew are working away furiously on cleaning up bugs...so hopefully someone has already reported my problem ('cause I'm a bit lazy when it comes to doing that sort of thing for myself).
Well that's it for me today...it's all I can manage, which is pretty pathetic.
Kate
Monday, October 26, 2009
*sigh*
*sigh*
Tuesday, 3. June 2008, 22:23:36
Well this week it caught up with me...lol, hypomanic spending spree!
Actually I'm really disapointed with myself...I can't actually track where half of my pay went. It's a dreadful feeling wondering how you're going to eat for the next two weeks...thankfully I'm a hoarder and generally have a well stocked larder and freezer.
Larder, lol...I have to admit that is a new one to come tumbling out of my fingers, usually I'd just say pantry. When I come to think about it, larder seems to be a more appropriate word, since it would obviously have been where the lard was stored...whereas what does a pantry suggest, perhaps where you'd keep your pants? LOL, it's actually from the latin Panis, meaning bread...so perhaps not so silly after all.
*Sigh* and of course after the high is always the low...that's hit me pretty hard the last two days. I just want to curl up in bed and die. I want someone to come and whisk me away out of here, and plonk me in some exciting situation in a far off land.
I am trying to find something good each day, but frankly I can't be bothered. Just getting up and dressed is a challenge, let alone out in the world to find something nice. I'm tired of the nice things avaliable on my doorstep...or else I'm just not finding them very nice at the minute. What I wouldn't give for a nice open fire and the concentration to read a book. *sigh*
*mutter mutter* I just seem to be groaning on and on about how up and down I am...and feeling like I'm not contributing much to the world ATM. lol, again another rearing of the black dogs head in that thought
So I'll just end on that sad note.
Kate
p.s. it's hard not just to delete the lot...but for the sake of providing a warts and all look at myself I'll post this.
Tuesday, 3. June 2008, 22:23:36
Well this week it caught up with me...lol, hypomanic spending spree!
Actually I'm really disapointed with myself...I can't actually track where half of my pay went. It's a dreadful feeling wondering how you're going to eat for the next two weeks...thankfully I'm a hoarder and generally have a well stocked larder and freezer.
Larder, lol...I have to admit that is a new one to come tumbling out of my fingers, usually I'd just say pantry. When I come to think about it, larder seems to be a more appropriate word, since it would obviously have been where the lard was stored...whereas what does a pantry suggest, perhaps where you'd keep your pants? LOL, it's actually from the latin Panis, meaning bread...so perhaps not so silly after all.
*Sigh* and of course after the high is always the low...that's hit me pretty hard the last two days. I just want to curl up in bed and die. I want someone to come and whisk me away out of here, and plonk me in some exciting situation in a far off land.
I am trying to find something good each day, but frankly I can't be bothered. Just getting up and dressed is a challenge, let alone out in the world to find something nice. I'm tired of the nice things avaliable on my doorstep...or else I'm just not finding them very nice at the minute. What I wouldn't give for a nice open fire and the concentration to read a book. *sigh*
*mutter mutter* I just seem to be groaning on and on about how up and down I am...and feeling like I'm not contributing much to the world ATM. lol, again another rearing of the black dogs head in that thought
So I'll just end on that sad note.
Kate
p.s. it's hard not just to delete the lot...but for the sake of providing a warts and all look at myself I'll post this.
A little impulse...
A little impulse...
Saturday, 24. May 2008, 02:49:13
Well here I am again...acting on impulses, and having desires filled at my request. Not huge things, just a haircut, lunch or going for drives. Innocent you might say, but in reality it points to a greater issue. I'm on the low side of hypomania, and appear quite normal and cheerful...but there is always a need to second guess my own motives. How much of what I do is reasoned out sanely? *grin* lol, how much of any choice is reasoned out sanely by someone with a mental illness? My point is that at the minute I'm just as likely to do something because I want to, opposed to something that I've thought through.
At the minute I want to up sticks and live in the UK. A couple of good doco's, or some music will get me to thinking about what I'm missing out on. lol, the glamour and grit, the wry humour, the keen fashion, smog, fog and the underground. *sigh* OMG, just to live in a country that is green, that you can pop over to another country on your day off...I mean seriously what's not to desire? College's, history, art, language, people! All that is basically out of reach, unless my mother decides to go and live in europe for a minimum of two years...then an EU passport would be within reach. I should have stayed when I was 21...put aside all my fears and got myself a working permit. Silly considering I was offered a job in a shop in Scotland...and all I'd done was to wander in browsing. *sigh* Yet again the black dog bit me, and squashed any self confidence. So here I am slightly Hypomanic and brimming with confidence in my abilities...wishing for every desire to be granted
18 months to 2 years is about as long as I've held a job before depression interfers and I feel I ought to give the job to someone more worthwhile. It's so damn limiting...i'm bright and intelligent, yet held back by the inevitable. I just have to find a job that I can work when I'm well and hibernate when I'm not, lol which means something self-employed...lol and even then I can't be selling anything, as you have to be reliably keeping in touch with stockists etc. I'm not brilliant at art, which basically leaves me with writing. People enjoy talking to me, but does that ability translate well into the written word? LOL, certainly I'd have to utilise my spell checker, to pick up the myriad of typos, and my stubborn insistance on spelling particular words 'my way'.
I've certainly read a lot of trash over the years, and hopefully i'll be at least as good as them (being published does require a certain degree of skill, no matter what).
LOL, although keeping to a deadline will be hard. Lol, keeping any timeline is hard I suppose I'd better just get on and write every single day...a chapter here and there, ought to eventually flow. LOL but how many other hairbrained schemes have I come up with?
Kate
Saturday, 24. May 2008, 02:49:13
Well here I am again...acting on impulses, and having desires filled at my request. Not huge things, just a haircut, lunch or going for drives. Innocent you might say, but in reality it points to a greater issue. I'm on the low side of hypomania, and appear quite normal and cheerful...but there is always a need to second guess my own motives. How much of what I do is reasoned out sanely? *grin* lol, how much of any choice is reasoned out sanely by someone with a mental illness? My point is that at the minute I'm just as likely to do something because I want to, opposed to something that I've thought through.
At the minute I want to up sticks and live in the UK. A couple of good doco's, or some music will get me to thinking about what I'm missing out on. lol, the glamour and grit, the wry humour, the keen fashion, smog, fog and the underground. *sigh* OMG, just to live in a country that is green, that you can pop over to another country on your day off...I mean seriously what's not to desire? College's, history, art, language, people! All that is basically out of reach, unless my mother decides to go and live in europe for a minimum of two years...then an EU passport would be within reach. I should have stayed when I was 21...put aside all my fears and got myself a working permit. Silly considering I was offered a job in a shop in Scotland...and all I'd done was to wander in browsing. *sigh* Yet again the black dog bit me, and squashed any self confidence. So here I am slightly Hypomanic and brimming with confidence in my abilities...wishing for every desire to be granted
18 months to 2 years is about as long as I've held a job before depression interfers and I feel I ought to give the job to someone more worthwhile. It's so damn limiting...i'm bright and intelligent, yet held back by the inevitable. I just have to find a job that I can work when I'm well and hibernate when I'm not, lol which means something self-employed...lol and even then I can't be selling anything, as you have to be reliably keeping in touch with stockists etc. I'm not brilliant at art, which basically leaves me with writing. People enjoy talking to me, but does that ability translate well into the written word? LOL, certainly I'd have to utilise my spell checker, to pick up the myriad of typos, and my stubborn insistance on spelling particular words 'my way'.
I've certainly read a lot of trash over the years, and hopefully i'll be at least as good as them (being published does require a certain degree of skill, no matter what).
LOL, although keeping to a deadline will be hard. Lol, keeping any timeline is hard I suppose I'd better just get on and write every single day...a chapter here and there, ought to eventually flow. LOL but how many other hairbrained schemes have I come up with?
Kate
I was only Nineteen...part 2
Pucka, is the main training base here in Aust...where the army holds bootcamp and training with live fire...which explains why the guys Pass Out as they leave there (ie: graduate).
I was only Nineteen
I was only Nineteen
Friday, 2. May 2008, 01:26:16
For those of you who don't know this song, it is about the harsh reality faced by Vietnam Vet's. It is following along in my war theme. Both of these songs were sung by my school on either ANZAC day or Rememberance day...which I think is pretty progressive for a school that had started out with a fairly strong cadet tradition...of course in my years there we no longer had cadetships.
Anyway here are the Lyric's to Redgum's "I was only nineteen"
I WAS ONLY NINETEEN
Mum and Dad and Denny saw the passing out parade at Puckapunyal
(1t was long march from cadets).
The sixth battalion was the next to tour and It was me who drew the card.
We did Canungra and Shoalwater before we left.
Chorus I:
And Townsville lined the footpath as we marched down to the quay.
This clipping from the paper shows us young and strong and clean.
And there's me in my slouch hat with my SLR and greens.
God help me, I was only nineteen.
From Vung Tau riding Chinooks to the dust at Nui Dat,
I'd been in and out of choppers now for months.
But we made our tents a home. V.B. and pinups on the lockers,
And an Asian orange sunset through the scrub.
Chorus 2:
And can you tell me, doctor, why I still can't get to sleep?
And night time's just a jungle dark and a barking M.16?
And what's this rash that comes and goes, can you tell me what it means?
God help me, I was only nineteen.
A four week operation, when each step can mean your last one
On two legs: it was a war within yourself.
But you wouldn't let your mates down 'til they had you dusted off,
So you closed your eyes and thought about something else.
Chorus 3:
Then someone yelled out "Contact"', and the bloke behind me swore.
We hooked in there for hours, then a God almighty roar.
Frankie kicked a mine the day that mankind kicked the moon.
God help me, he was going home in June.
1 can still see Frankie, drinking tinnies in the Grand Hotel
On a thirty-six hour rec. leave in Vung Tau.
And I can still hear Frankie, lying screaming in the jungle.
'Till the morphine came and killed the bloody row
Chorus 4:
And the Anzac legends didn't mention mud and blood and tears.
And stories that my father told me never seemed quite real
I caught some pieces In my back that I didn't even feel.
God help me, I was only nineteen.
Chorus 5:
And can you tell me, doctor, why I still can't get to sleep?
And why the Channel Seven chopper chills me to my feet?
And what's this rash that comes and goes, can you tell me what it means?
God help me, I was only nineteen.
Kate
Friday, 2. May 2008, 01:26:16
For those of you who don't know this song, it is about the harsh reality faced by Vietnam Vet's. It is following along in my war theme. Both of these songs were sung by my school on either ANZAC day or Rememberance day...which I think is pretty progressive for a school that had started out with a fairly strong cadet tradition...of course in my years there we no longer had cadetships.
Anyway here are the Lyric's to Redgum's "I was only nineteen"
I WAS ONLY NINETEEN
Mum and Dad and Denny saw the passing out parade at Puckapunyal
(1t was long march from cadets).
The sixth battalion was the next to tour and It was me who drew the card.
We did Canungra and Shoalwater before we left.
Chorus I:
And Townsville lined the footpath as we marched down to the quay.
This clipping from the paper shows us young and strong and clean.
And there's me in my slouch hat with my SLR and greens.
God help me, I was only nineteen.
From Vung Tau riding Chinooks to the dust at Nui Dat,
I'd been in and out of choppers now for months.
But we made our tents a home. V.B. and pinups on the lockers,
And an Asian orange sunset through the scrub.
Chorus 2:
And can you tell me, doctor, why I still can't get to sleep?
And night time's just a jungle dark and a barking M.16?
And what's this rash that comes and goes, can you tell me what it means?
God help me, I was only nineteen.
A four week operation, when each step can mean your last one
On two legs: it was a war within yourself.
But you wouldn't let your mates down 'til they had you dusted off,
So you closed your eyes and thought about something else.
Chorus 3:
Then someone yelled out "Contact"', and the bloke behind me swore.
We hooked in there for hours, then a God almighty roar.
Frankie kicked a mine the day that mankind kicked the moon.
God help me, he was going home in June.
1 can still see Frankie, drinking tinnies in the Grand Hotel
On a thirty-six hour rec. leave in Vung Tau.
And I can still hear Frankie, lying screaming in the jungle.
'Till the morphine came and killed the bloody row
Chorus 4:
And the Anzac legends didn't mention mud and blood and tears.
And stories that my father told me never seemed quite real
I caught some pieces In my back that I didn't even feel.
God help me, I was only nineteen.
Chorus 5:
And can you tell me, doctor, why I still can't get to sleep?
And why the Channel Seven chopper chills me to my feet?
And what's this rash that comes and goes, can you tell me what it means?
God help me, I was only nineteen.
Kate
Anzac Day and war...
ANZAC Day and war...
Wednesday, 30. April 2008, 03:00:35
Hello all, todays post is about the tradgey of war.
Um, I don't know if you guys know about ANZAC day? It's a public holiday on the 26th of April (one of two held yearly to commemorate those who've fought or lost thier lives in the millitary...the other being Rememberance day held on 11th November "On the eleventh day at the eleventh hour, we shall remember them, Lest We Forget."). Anyway, a little off topic there for a sec, I was going to say that due to having just celebrated ANZAC day we're being bombarded with jingoistic war movies. Glorifying this and that battle (oh and "today was the day the light horse fought at Beersheba, Israel...and if it wasn't for them then we may not have the state of israel as we know it" or so the news informed me). Traditionally the ANZAC's are sent in as cannon fodder, by whomever is directing the current war. Gallipoli, Turkey, and the charge of the lightbrigade being the two most famous cannon fodder battles of the first world war...I mean who else would charge up a cliff under heavy fire (because the british commanders had read the map wrong), or ride out on horses over a desert ill supplied, with rifles and just enough bullets to make it over the distance to meet a line of well armed and supplied troops and tanks. *sigh* Three of my great grandfathers brothers fought at Beersheba, the twins made it home...although they couldn't bring thier horses home with them, which is a shame as the boys who signed up for the lightbrigade supplied thier own trusty mounts from home...so you can imagine the sorrow over having to part with thier best mates. Most of them chose to shoot thier mounts rather than leave them in Egypt...just so thier mates wouldn't have to be worked to death by poverty strician Egyptians who couldn't afford to feed them properly. Everything I've ever heard about war has been the tradgic waste and loss of peoples lives. It tires me, just thinking about all those lives, and how many more will be lost in the name of one thing or another. *sigh*
The Band Played Waltzing Matilda ...by Eric Bogle
When I was a young man I carried my pack
I lived the free life of a rover
From the Murrays green basin to the dusty outback
I waltzed my Matilda all over
Then in nineteen fifteen my country said Son
It's time to stop rambling 'cause there's work to be done
So they gave me a tin hat and they gave me a gun
And they sent me away to the war
And the band played Waltzing Matilda
As we sailed away from the quay
And amidst all the tears and the shouts and the cheers
We sailed off to Gallipoli.
How well I remember that terrible day
How the blood stained the sand and the water
And how in that hell that they called Suvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter
Johnny Turk he was ready, he primed himself well
He chased us with bullets, he rained us with shells
And in five minutes flat he'd blown us all to hell
Nearly blew us right back to Australia.
But the band played Waltzing Matilda
As we stopped to bury our slain
We buried ours and the Turks buried theirs
Then we started all over again
Now those that were left, well we tried to survive
In a mad world of blood, death and fire
And for ten weary weeks I kept myself alive
But around me the corpses piled higher
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over tit
And when I woke up in my hospital bed
And saw what it had done, I wished I was dead
Never knew there were worse things than dying
For no more I'll go waltzing Matilda
All around the green bush far and near
For to hump tent and pegs, a man needs two legs
No more waltzing Matilda for me
So they collected the cripples, the wounded, the maimed
And they shipped us back home to Australia
The armless, the legless, the blind, the insane
Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla
And as our ship pulled into Circular Quay
I looked at the place where my legs used to be
And thank Christ there was nobody waiting for me
To grieve and to mourn and to pity
And the band played Waltzing Matilda
As they carried us down the gangway
But nobody cheered, they just stood and stared
Then turned all their faces away
And now every April I sit on my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me
And I watch my old comrades, how proudly they march
Reliving old dreams of past glory
And the old men march slowly, all bent, stiff and sore
The forgotten heroes from a forgotten war
And the young people ask, "What are they marching for?"
And I ask myself the same question
And the band plays Waltzing Matilda
And the old men answer to the call
But year after year their numbers get fewer
Some day no one will march there at all
Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda
Who'll go a waltzing Matilda with me
And their ghosts may be heard as you pass the Billabong
Who'll go a waltzing Matilda with me?
So I march against war...I feel so small in the face of it all. Do you think there will be an end to it all? There are at least two more countries this week who are near developing thier own nukes. Oh and here I am living in the world with the richest uranium deposits in the world...who do you think uses what we dig up? It's certainly not us, with our paltry 2(?) reactors which are used for science. Oh and don't get me started on nuclear waste...I mean seriously a half life of 10,000 years, and poloticians expect me to be happy about the fossil fuel we save by producing it??? BTW in case you don't know what a half life is, it's : the time taken for something to decrease by half, in particular the radioactivity of an isotope. So it's as if you put something 100g in a reactor today it'll still be radioactive in 70,000 years (although you'll have less than one 0.75g of radioactive material). To me that's not acceptable. I'm sure that we'll have wiped ourselves of the planet by then, but the next species to dominate will still have to be dealing with a radioactive wasteland...and who's going to make sure that all those dumps remain sealed??? How often do we have government changes, religious uprisings, and other general social upheavals, that may possibly interfere with the payment of the waste safekeepers? In the last 200 years there have been three times when the culture has changed so dramatically that the safe guarding of nuclear waste could possibly have been suspended (if we'd had nuclear waste back then)...they were the white settlement of Australia, and the two world wars. All it would take, would be for a generation of people not to be taught how dangerous nuclear waste is, for us all to be dying of cancers, or other radiation sicknesses. A forty year period of uneducation...and we all die. There are 1750 chances of that happening during the radioactive lifetime of 100g of waste being produced...or 3250 chances if you've produced a kilo of waste...how many kilos do we produce world wide on a daily basis??? See I told you not to get me started on nuclear waste!
Gang warfare is on the rise, and so far this week we've had at least three murders that I know of. What are we doing wrong as a society? Is it any surprise that so many religion are based peace, love, and understanding of others??? Yet so many people are rudderless as they sail through life. They turned thier backs on organised religion, replacing it with capitalism and greed. The world is losing it's integrity by the bucket load, rather than looking within and treating others as they wish to be treated. Empathy is missing at the grass roots level. People are growing up bitter and twisted, perpetuating the cycle. I try to spread my message of understanding, and make such a tiny difference *sigh*
Kate
Wednesday, 30. April 2008, 03:00:35
Hello all, todays post is about the tradgey of war.
Um, I don't know if you guys know about ANZAC day? It's a public holiday on the 26th of April (one of two held yearly to commemorate those who've fought or lost thier lives in the millitary...the other being Rememberance day held on 11th November "On the eleventh day at the eleventh hour, we shall remember them, Lest We Forget."). Anyway, a little off topic there for a sec, I was going to say that due to having just celebrated ANZAC day we're being bombarded with jingoistic war movies. Glorifying this and that battle (oh and "today was the day the light horse fought at Beersheba, Israel...and if it wasn't for them then we may not have the state of israel as we know it" or so the news informed me). Traditionally the ANZAC's are sent in as cannon fodder, by whomever is directing the current war. Gallipoli, Turkey, and the charge of the lightbrigade being the two most famous cannon fodder battles of the first world war...I mean who else would charge up a cliff under heavy fire (because the british commanders had read the map wrong), or ride out on horses over a desert ill supplied, with rifles and just enough bullets to make it over the distance to meet a line of well armed and supplied troops and tanks. *sigh* Three of my great grandfathers brothers fought at Beersheba, the twins made it home...although they couldn't bring thier horses home with them, which is a shame as the boys who signed up for the lightbrigade supplied thier own trusty mounts from home...so you can imagine the sorrow over having to part with thier best mates. Most of them chose to shoot thier mounts rather than leave them in Egypt...just so thier mates wouldn't have to be worked to death by poverty strician Egyptians who couldn't afford to feed them properly. Everything I've ever heard about war has been the tradgic waste and loss of peoples lives. It tires me, just thinking about all those lives, and how many more will be lost in the name of one thing or another. *sigh*
The Band Played Waltzing Matilda ...by Eric Bogle
When I was a young man I carried my pack
I lived the free life of a rover
From the Murrays green basin to the dusty outback
I waltzed my Matilda all over
Then in nineteen fifteen my country said Son
It's time to stop rambling 'cause there's work to be done
So they gave me a tin hat and they gave me a gun
And they sent me away to the war
And the band played Waltzing Matilda
As we sailed away from the quay
And amidst all the tears and the shouts and the cheers
We sailed off to Gallipoli.
How well I remember that terrible day
How the blood stained the sand and the water
And how in that hell that they called Suvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter
Johnny Turk he was ready, he primed himself well
He chased us with bullets, he rained us with shells
And in five minutes flat he'd blown us all to hell
Nearly blew us right back to Australia.
But the band played Waltzing Matilda
As we stopped to bury our slain
We buried ours and the Turks buried theirs
Then we started all over again
Now those that were left, well we tried to survive
In a mad world of blood, death and fire
And for ten weary weeks I kept myself alive
But around me the corpses piled higher
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over tit
And when I woke up in my hospital bed
And saw what it had done, I wished I was dead
Never knew there were worse things than dying
For no more I'll go waltzing Matilda
All around the green bush far and near
For to hump tent and pegs, a man needs two legs
No more waltzing Matilda for me
So they collected the cripples, the wounded, the maimed
And they shipped us back home to Australia
The armless, the legless, the blind, the insane
Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla
And as our ship pulled into Circular Quay
I looked at the place where my legs used to be
And thank Christ there was nobody waiting for me
To grieve and to mourn and to pity
And the band played Waltzing Matilda
As they carried us down the gangway
But nobody cheered, they just stood and stared
Then turned all their faces away
And now every April I sit on my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me
And I watch my old comrades, how proudly they march
Reliving old dreams of past glory
And the old men march slowly, all bent, stiff and sore
The forgotten heroes from a forgotten war
And the young people ask, "What are they marching for?"
And I ask myself the same question
And the band plays Waltzing Matilda
And the old men answer to the call
But year after year their numbers get fewer
Some day no one will march there at all
Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda
Who'll go a waltzing Matilda with me
And their ghosts may be heard as you pass the Billabong
Who'll go a waltzing Matilda with me?
So I march against war...I feel so small in the face of it all. Do you think there will be an end to it all? There are at least two more countries this week who are near developing thier own nukes. Oh and here I am living in the world with the richest uranium deposits in the world...who do you think uses what we dig up? It's certainly not us, with our paltry 2(?) reactors which are used for science. Oh and don't get me started on nuclear waste...I mean seriously a half life of 10,000 years, and poloticians expect me to be happy about the fossil fuel we save by producing it??? BTW in case you don't know what a half life is, it's : the time taken for something to decrease by half, in particular the radioactivity of an isotope. So it's as if you put something 100g in a reactor today it'll still be radioactive in 70,000 years (although you'll have less than one 0.75g of radioactive material). To me that's not acceptable. I'm sure that we'll have wiped ourselves of the planet by then, but the next species to dominate will still have to be dealing with a radioactive wasteland...and who's going to make sure that all those dumps remain sealed??? How often do we have government changes, religious uprisings, and other general social upheavals, that may possibly interfere with the payment of the waste safekeepers? In the last 200 years there have been three times when the culture has changed so dramatically that the safe guarding of nuclear waste could possibly have been suspended (if we'd had nuclear waste back then)...they were the white settlement of Australia, and the two world wars. All it would take, would be for a generation of people not to be taught how dangerous nuclear waste is, for us all to be dying of cancers, or other radiation sicknesses. A forty year period of uneducation...and we all die. There are 1750 chances of that happening during the radioactive lifetime of 100g of waste being produced...or 3250 chances if you've produced a kilo of waste...how many kilos do we produce world wide on a daily basis??? See I told you not to get me started on nuclear waste!
Gang warfare is on the rise, and so far this week we've had at least three murders that I know of. What are we doing wrong as a society? Is it any surprise that so many religion are based peace, love, and understanding of others??? Yet so many people are rudderless as they sail through life. They turned thier backs on organised religion, replacing it with capitalism and greed. The world is losing it's integrity by the bucket load, rather than looking within and treating others as they wish to be treated. Empathy is missing at the grass roots level. People are growing up bitter and twisted, perpetuating the cycle. I try to spread my message of understanding, and make such a tiny difference *sigh*
Kate
Where am I?
Where am I?
Saturday, 19. April 2008, 03:50:29
Post Surgery...my back is fine and unless I do something like heavy lifting it ought to stay that way...and virtually pain free. Stupidly I did some heavy lifting after getting home in search of my birth certificate as the hospital lost my handbag in transit to the ward.
The good news is that a full week after doing same said heavy lifting my back hardly twinges anymore when I am in transit to standing position. Oh and I'm not having dreadful headaches from coming off my pain regime cold turky because i'm such an air head that I actually forget to take any pain relief. I have a couple of pain killers and a valium so I don't wake up wanting my head removed.
Apart from all that how am I? Where am I and all that Jazz?
Well feeling like a total space cadet...you know drifting miles above the earth totally disconected with the entire human race.
It dawned on me a few minutes back that without Kelly I have no outside contact with the world...M&P are OS, Trick is doing his thing, Ronnie is in the kennels...so it's just Maurice and I floating in limbo.
I seem to talk quite a bit about living in limbo. (Why is a limbo stick a limbo stick??? OH, it's because you've got to be limber to go under. Duh.)
Limbo according to the Oxford Dictionary is:
• noun 1 (in some Christian beliefs) the supposed abode of the souls of unbaptized infants, and of the just who died before Christ. 2 an uncertain period of awaiting a decision or resolution.
— ORIGIN from Latin limbus ‘hem, border, limbo’.
SO obviously I feel like i'm living on the hem or boarder of life...or perhaps waiting for this interminable period to end. Truth is I feel both in some ways.
I am on the edge of life, I don't want to be in the mainstream of things...personally I think I'd go crazy if I had to be there. *smile* not that I'm not already...but how bad could I be if I did go there??? I wish the world were somehow different...that things were slower, that people cared about each other, *smile* a pipe dream I know.
LOL, I'm sitting here writing and I think "oh, maybe things would be different if i suicided?"...I'm not in the least bit suicidal, just the change of pace might be different. I'm disassociated from the world and everyone in it...there is a sureal dreamlike quality, quite peaceful. I suppose any psychiatric advice would be to reconnect myself with the world...I want to know why? Why is being connected better than not being connected? Why is having a job and going to work and earning money to buy stuff, better than staring into space until you die?
Oh and I suppose that I ought to address the other half of the definion of limbo...What is it that i'm waiting to resolve or decide? I have no idea in the least...lol, if i did I suppose i'd resolve or decide it All I know is that I'm waiting, there is something that i'm meant to do that will have an effect in the grander sceme of things. I used to think it was something I was meant to learn, but now i'm not as sure, that it isn't something that i'm meant to do. But what it is I have no idea.
I've been advised in the past just to do stuff and whatever it is will just happen of it's own accord...well I think i'm meant to wait. Perhaps it's the second coming of jesus? The rising of the dark lord? lol or perhaps the earth reaching a critical mass, that will trigger the whole beingness of ourselves forward through time and space. Whatever. I suppose I just have to wait to find out, lol.
I wonder how long it'll be before mainstream literature includes 'lol' as an official expression of mirth? Not to mention all the other leet speak that is filtering down through the bedrock of society to the groundwater of language? Since language changes so frequently I'm sure that some of it will survive, and other bits will fall by the wayside.
*sigh* I suppose i'd better reconnect with a couple of friends who may notice my not being around.
Kate
Saturday, 19. April 2008, 03:50:29
Post Surgery...my back is fine and unless I do something like heavy lifting it ought to stay that way...and virtually pain free. Stupidly I did some heavy lifting after getting home in search of my birth certificate as the hospital lost my handbag in transit to the ward.
The good news is that a full week after doing same said heavy lifting my back hardly twinges anymore when I am in transit to standing position. Oh and I'm not having dreadful headaches from coming off my pain regime cold turky because i'm such an air head that I actually forget to take any pain relief. I have a couple of pain killers and a valium so I don't wake up wanting my head removed.
Apart from all that how am I? Where am I and all that Jazz?
Well feeling like a total space cadet...you know drifting miles above the earth totally disconected with the entire human race.
It dawned on me a few minutes back that without Kelly I have no outside contact with the world...M&P are OS, Trick is doing his thing, Ronnie is in the kennels...so it's just Maurice and I floating in limbo.
I seem to talk quite a bit about living in limbo. (Why is a limbo stick a limbo stick??? OH, it's because you've got to be limber to go under. Duh.)
Limbo according to the Oxford Dictionary is:
• noun 1 (in some Christian beliefs) the supposed abode of the souls of unbaptized infants, and of the just who died before Christ. 2 an uncertain period of awaiting a decision or resolution.
— ORIGIN from Latin limbus ‘hem, border, limbo’.
SO obviously I feel like i'm living on the hem or boarder of life...or perhaps waiting for this interminable period to end. Truth is I feel both in some ways.
I am on the edge of life, I don't want to be in the mainstream of things...personally I think I'd go crazy if I had to be there. *smile* not that I'm not already...but how bad could I be if I did go there??? I wish the world were somehow different...that things were slower, that people cared about each other, *smile* a pipe dream I know.
LOL, I'm sitting here writing and I think "oh, maybe things would be different if i suicided?"...I'm not in the least bit suicidal, just the change of pace might be different. I'm disassociated from the world and everyone in it...there is a sureal dreamlike quality, quite peaceful. I suppose any psychiatric advice would be to reconnect myself with the world...I want to know why? Why is being connected better than not being connected? Why is having a job and going to work and earning money to buy stuff, better than staring into space until you die?
Oh and I suppose that I ought to address the other half of the definion of limbo...What is it that i'm waiting to resolve or decide? I have no idea in the least...lol, if i did I suppose i'd resolve or decide it All I know is that I'm waiting, there is something that i'm meant to do that will have an effect in the grander sceme of things. I used to think it was something I was meant to learn, but now i'm not as sure, that it isn't something that i'm meant to do. But what it is I have no idea.
I've been advised in the past just to do stuff and whatever it is will just happen of it's own accord...well I think i'm meant to wait. Perhaps it's the second coming of jesus? The rising of the dark lord? lol or perhaps the earth reaching a critical mass, that will trigger the whole beingness of ourselves forward through time and space. Whatever. I suppose I just have to wait to find out, lol.
I wonder how long it'll be before mainstream literature includes 'lol' as an official expression of mirth? Not to mention all the other leet speak that is filtering down through the bedrock of society to the groundwater of language? Since language changes so frequently I'm sure that some of it will survive, and other bits will fall by the wayside.
*sigh* I suppose i'd better reconnect with a couple of friends who may notice my not being around.
Kate
Pain is one of the ultimate character changers.
Pain is one of the ultimate character changers.
Wednesday, 26. March 2008, 18:59:46
Hi,
I am in pain. I don't mean the average pain of a headache...i'd welcome it. But real pain, where you wish someone would rip, slice or just plain remove the offending areas of pain. I am at the point where I want to kill someone, anyone, including myself. I am horrible, nasty and rude to almost everyone...and I just want anyone (animals included) to just fuck off and leave me alone...unless of course they can remove the pain.
I have no idea how people live with pain like this year after year. Being bipolar is easier, as at least i know that eventually the inner pain will stop...this is unending. Surgery is dangled in front of me as a possible solution...but even after an initial interview with a surgeon I'll be put on a waiting list which depending upon how many people who are worse off than me, i'll be stuck in limbo.
I swear like a trooper, or sailor or possibly worse than a combination of them. The number of times I say "Cunt, mother fucker, mother fucker, cunt, fuckers, cunt, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, CUNT!!!!", is unbelievable...lol and you should hear me if I have to travel in a car...every slightest bump or dip in the road elicits a tirade like that one. Moving from sitting to lying, to draping or standing, kneeling to hanging by my ankles...every single moment i'm in pain. All the pain killers I'm on, anti-inflamitories, muscle relaxants...I'm injecting and swallowing them down every six hours (with a nap inbetween), some can only be taken every eight hours, some twelve hourly, some in between other doses...and you know what it achieves? At best I feel like my leg has fallen asleep and i've got pins and needles and that awful half pain you get as it wakes up. I can't bend at the waist (so sitting is a bitch)...bending and twisting is absolutely banned as it will only injure me worse. I can't cook or take the garbage out...I have to rely on friends to help with housework, and driving me places.
I normally sleep on my side and have done for as long as I can remember...no more! I must sleep on my back, the only variance in position that my pain allow is to bend one leg out to a side and prop it on a pillow...if I'm lucky I'll be allowed by the pain to let the othter leg have a turn doing the same thing later in the night. So much for sleeping in a fetal position all curled up neatly in my warm fluffy doona, which is what i've done every other night of my life. OK, that's not quite true...sometimes when i'm really off the wall and unable to sleep due to a bipolar mood swing, the only position i'd be able to get an hour or so to sleep in is on my stomach, curled around my pillow. Still curled up and comfortable. I can't watch TV to distract myself as being flat on my back gives me a view of the ceiling (so all I can do is listen to the damn thing)...or if i've draped myself across the end of a poof on the chaise lounge, i get a crick in my neck from proping myself up on my elbows to watch for a while...then i fall asleep (due to the sedative nature of all the drugs i have to take) in that position and end up with aching knees, because i've just spent the whole day drapped with my weight dispersed over the end of the couch and my knees on a cushion. You'd think that all the pain killers i've been taking would take care of all those other niggling pains, but apparently they can only cope with 'X' amount of pain and anything extra well, that just goes by the way side and I get to put up with it.
OH, and the bst bit about all this is the one drug that actually seems to help manage the pain is not on the PBS list...so it has to be paid for in full, roughly $50-60 for 20 or 5 doses depending upon whether i'm ingesting it or injecting it. The only other alternative for me to receive it and not actually have to pay for it is to clog up the local ER...on a 6 hourly basis. Fun idea huh???
So pretty much all around i'm fucked! I'm sick and tired of it all. I just want the pain to be over and done with so I can get on with my life. LOL, I can't even do my own shopping, as I need someone else to push the trolley!
Unlike a depression I can't sleep through it as the pain wakes me up...or the dog as he's bored stupid and I can't even take him for a walk or play with him enough so that he doesn't 'need' to bother me.
I'm sick, sick, sick of it! I'm not giving up yet...as there are still so many things I want to do with my life. Cliche or what??? Frankly at this point I don't give a flying Fuck, I just want things to hurry up and change so I can get on with it!
One minute things look great dn I feel like I might be on a bipolar upswing then teh pain brings me crashhing back down to a state of anger and misery...I could be rapid cycling, although I think the clinical pain would preclude that as a diagnoses. Although, since stress is a major trigger for mood swings, perhaps it wouldn't preclude it? Phft, what does it matter? It makes no difference in the long run.
So that's life today, boring and painful. No terrific insight's into life this evening.
So Cheerio from me. LOL, I'm so sick of people asking me how I am today...I say great and then say 'actually I'm lying!'...so saying Cheerio, is just as ridiculous...although I suppose i'm wishing you a good day, so perhaps it's not so bad. So, Have a nice day! lol, now wasn't that facetious *grin*
LOL, have a good one anyway!
Kate
Wednesday, 26. March 2008, 18:59:46
Hi,
I am in pain. I don't mean the average pain of a headache...i'd welcome it. But real pain, where you wish someone would rip, slice or just plain remove the offending areas of pain. I am at the point where I want to kill someone, anyone, including myself. I am horrible, nasty and rude to almost everyone...and I just want anyone (animals included) to just fuck off and leave me alone...unless of course they can remove the pain.
I have no idea how people live with pain like this year after year. Being bipolar is easier, as at least i know that eventually the inner pain will stop...this is unending. Surgery is dangled in front of me as a possible solution...but even after an initial interview with a surgeon I'll be put on a waiting list which depending upon how many people who are worse off than me, i'll be stuck in limbo.
I swear like a trooper, or sailor or possibly worse than a combination of them. The number of times I say "Cunt, mother fucker, mother fucker, cunt, fuckers, cunt, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, CUNT!!!!", is unbelievable...lol and you should hear me if I have to travel in a car...every slightest bump or dip in the road elicits a tirade like that one. Moving from sitting to lying, to draping or standing, kneeling to hanging by my ankles...every single moment i'm in pain. All the pain killers I'm on, anti-inflamitories, muscle relaxants...I'm injecting and swallowing them down every six hours (with a nap inbetween), some can only be taken every eight hours, some twelve hourly, some in between other doses...and you know what it achieves? At best I feel like my leg has fallen asleep and i've got pins and needles and that awful half pain you get as it wakes up. I can't bend at the waist (so sitting is a bitch)...bending and twisting is absolutely banned as it will only injure me worse. I can't cook or take the garbage out...I have to rely on friends to help with housework, and driving me places.
I normally sleep on my side and have done for as long as I can remember...no more! I must sleep on my back, the only variance in position that my pain allow is to bend one leg out to a side and prop it on a pillow...if I'm lucky I'll be allowed by the pain to let the othter leg have a turn doing the same thing later in the night. So much for sleeping in a fetal position all curled up neatly in my warm fluffy doona, which is what i've done every other night of my life. OK, that's not quite true...sometimes when i'm really off the wall and unable to sleep due to a bipolar mood swing, the only position i'd be able to get an hour or so to sleep in is on my stomach, curled around my pillow. Still curled up and comfortable. I can't watch TV to distract myself as being flat on my back gives me a view of the ceiling (so all I can do is listen to the damn thing)...or if i've draped myself across the end of a poof on the chaise lounge, i get a crick in my neck from proping myself up on my elbows to watch for a while...then i fall asleep (due to the sedative nature of all the drugs i have to take) in that position and end up with aching knees, because i've just spent the whole day drapped with my weight dispersed over the end of the couch and my knees on a cushion. You'd think that all the pain killers i've been taking would take care of all those other niggling pains, but apparently they can only cope with 'X' amount of pain and anything extra well, that just goes by the way side and I get to put up with it.
OH, and the bst bit about all this is the one drug that actually seems to help manage the pain is not on the PBS list...so it has to be paid for in full, roughly $50-60 for 20 or 5 doses depending upon whether i'm ingesting it or injecting it. The only other alternative for me to receive it and not actually have to pay for it is to clog up the local ER...on a 6 hourly basis. Fun idea huh???
So pretty much all around i'm fucked! I'm sick and tired of it all. I just want the pain to be over and done with so I can get on with my life. LOL, I can't even do my own shopping, as I need someone else to push the trolley!
Unlike a depression I can't sleep through it as the pain wakes me up...or the dog as he's bored stupid and I can't even take him for a walk or play with him enough so that he doesn't 'need' to bother me.
I'm sick, sick, sick of it! I'm not giving up yet...as there are still so many things I want to do with my life. Cliche or what??? Frankly at this point I don't give a flying Fuck, I just want things to hurry up and change so I can get on with it!
One minute things look great dn I feel like I might be on a bipolar upswing then teh pain brings me crashhing back down to a state of anger and misery...I could be rapid cycling, although I think the clinical pain would preclude that as a diagnoses. Although, since stress is a major trigger for mood swings, perhaps it wouldn't preclude it? Phft, what does it matter? It makes no difference in the long run.
So that's life today, boring and painful. No terrific insight's into life this evening.
So Cheerio from me. LOL, I'm so sick of people asking me how I am today...I say great and then say 'actually I'm lying!'...so saying Cheerio, is just as ridiculous...although I suppose i'm wishing you a good day, so perhaps it's not so bad. So, Have a nice day! lol, now wasn't that facetious *grin*
LOL, have a good one anyway!
Kate
Hank and Skein
Hank and Skein
Sunday, 23. March 2008, 22:40:31
Hello...
Well today I'm wondering about words.
It started out with Skein...I wanted to know how it came into the english language...it's a derived from french. Now a skein is a length of coiled thread or wool, which is generally used for weaving or embroidery.
A hank is from old english. It also means a length of coiled thread, hair or wool. Now I have an issue with this definition...I'd always thought a hank was a handful of thread, wool or hair, be that coiled or not.
What is a handful? Is it solely what a hand can hold, or is it another measurement...more like a cubit?
Solely, is that like alone? Apparently alone is derived from all one. That sounds far nicer than the alternative of solitude...perhaps we've just got the wrong take on solitude...perhaps it's a state of being that we ought to seek out to become whole within ourselves.
A handful, is a full hand, or a hand hold of stuff. Perhaps we need to take ourselves in hand, or hold ourselves together. Whatever it is we need to make ourselves full, through our hands.
A hank or skein, is used to weave and sew...perhaps it's talking of hand making the fabric of our lives, or weaving the pattern of our lives?
What a funny turn of events...the searching for the meaning of words has turned into a searching out of the meanings of life. Perhaps that's the way it always is...if you look deep enough into the daily meaning of things then you find life...and the meaning of it.
Quite different from yesterdays grossness, today there is a peace and a quiet about my thoughts.
Cheerio for today,
Kate
Sunday, 23. March 2008, 22:40:31
Hello...
Well today I'm wondering about words.
It started out with Skein...I wanted to know how it came into the english language...it's a derived from french. Now a skein is a length of coiled thread or wool, which is generally used for weaving or embroidery.
A hank is from old english. It also means a length of coiled thread, hair or wool. Now I have an issue with this definition...I'd always thought a hank was a handful of thread, wool or hair, be that coiled or not.
What is a handful? Is it solely what a hand can hold, or is it another measurement...more like a cubit?
Solely, is that like alone? Apparently alone is derived from all one. That sounds far nicer than the alternative of solitude...perhaps we've just got the wrong take on solitude...perhaps it's a state of being that we ought to seek out to become whole within ourselves.
A handful, is a full hand, or a hand hold of stuff. Perhaps we need to take ourselves in hand, or hold ourselves together. Whatever it is we need to make ourselves full, through our hands.
A hank or skein, is used to weave and sew...perhaps it's talking of hand making the fabric of our lives, or weaving the pattern of our lives?
What a funny turn of events...the searching for the meaning of words has turned into a searching out of the meanings of life. Perhaps that's the way it always is...if you look deep enough into the daily meaning of things then you find life...and the meaning of it.
Quite different from yesterdays grossness, today there is a peace and a quiet about my thoughts.
Cheerio for today,
Kate
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