So, I blew NaBloPoMo.

Really, really blew it. Thursday was my downfall. Work was pretty quiet in the morning/early afternoon and then just before I was going to leave, shit hit the fan and my 7.30am-6pm day was extended by an extra 4 and a half hours. I make that a 15 hour day and, trust me, it really felt like a 15 hour day. Friday was spent clearing up leftover crap (although not literally crap, that's how it felt) and I raced out of the door at 5.30pm with a splitting headache, amidst cries of "aren't you coming for a beer?" I forewent the beer and was home before 7 when I took the dogs out and then curled up in a very dark room and went to sleep.

On Saturday, I drove to Walthamstow. For those who don't know London, it has a post(zip) code of E17. That means, that it is east London, and pretty far out east London. I live in The South West, so getting to Walthamstow meant taking the M25 (nightmare) to junction 29 and then all these stupid little A roads that take you through roundabout city. I don't know what it is about roundabouts that the Brits love so much. You have huge ones connecting motorways with something like"Welcome to Essex!" written in pansies; you have the medium sized ones connecting A or large B roads which are covered in sign posts telling you just how very, very sharp this turn is, and you have mini ones, which look like someone has spilled a blob of white paint in the middle of a crossing. As if people are going to drive AROUND this blob of white paint. Ay, Dios mio. Anyhow, I drove to Walthamstow to pick up the latest member of the family:


His name is Sunny (no, I did not name him). He is an 8 month old Labrador Retriever with the most incredible green eyes. This picture is rather deceptive. Sunny has been spoiled rotten, and is ROTUND. His name should be Dyson, because he doesn't just eat, he inhales food. On Saturday night I put all 3 dogs' food down at the same time and Sunny, sneaky monster, decided he was going to try and eat both HRH's and Sam's food, before his own. HRH growled at him and he backed away, but Sam is such a pussy that when the baby pushed him out of the way, (which is not difficult - we're talking at least 30 kilos of puppy here) Sam just let him do it. Sunny needs to be physically restrained from eating Sam's food, and on Saturday I think that Sunny must have left some slobber in the bowl, because Sam just was not interested after that. Instead, I wound up feeding him raw chicken wings. On Sunday morning, Sunny was following me around, wagging his tail. I didn't have a clue what he was after - he'd already been out for a walk that morning, where he strained so much doing a poop that I thought he was going to give himself a hernia. When I went over to pick the poop up, I found the reason for such straining - at some stage in the last 3 days, he had managed to eat part of a leash. In the crap was a leather strap about 2cm wide and almost 15cm long. This dog will snarf down anything. ANYTHING. Look, you left your book on the floor for a second while you picked up your cup of coffee - let me eat it for you. And that sweater on the sofa with the arm dangling down? Let me eat that for you too. But he is a lovely dog and with some (a lot) of training, he will be even more so.

To top it all off, my brother made dinner on Sunday evening. That is twice in one week. I think there's something very, very wrong with him. But I'm not complaining.

So he did manage to get his *insert Borat voice here* SEXY TIME, after all

So, HRH is doing great. I will definitely post some photos and videos in the next few days. But we have had an issue, what with her being ON HEAT AND ALL. Very inconvenient (especially when you have a male dog you can't get done because his previous owners failed to tell you he has a heart murmur which means the vet doesn't want to knock him out which means that his testicles are staying firmly where they are) and a bitch whose tubes remain unblocked because the thought of putting her through another invasive surgery is inhumane.

We've been so careful with them. She's been on heat for about 10 days so far (I follow her around with a mop) but hadn't shown any signs of reception. Great! He would get too close and she would park her behind on the floor and growl at him. Good girl. He would then run away and whimper, turning back after about 3 feet with this lusty look in his glazed-over eyes, tongue hanging out and dripping drool on the carpet. This would happen again and again and again... until you shout at him to lie down and be quiet and he cries and cries and then literally drops to the floor. This cycle lasts for about 15 minutes and then starts again. It's like being in a muy loco time warp where you're on a loop.

So, it's ok when we're home - Sam tries to hump the Queen and the Queen retorts with "I'll bite your bloody balls off if you come near me again" using, what I'm sure is, canine mind powers - we can make sure that the humpage occurs not. After having part of her spine surgically removed, we were worried that it might not take the strain of having it doggie style (ooh, forgive me, I am SO crass). To keep her safe while we're at work, we shut him in the living room, where he has access to the garden via the dog flap, and her in the kitchen (where she can make a mess if she has to and it is easy to clean up). This may sound foul - in fact, it is rather disgusting - but needs must, and I do not have the time or the inclination watch her go through, and pay for, another £7k surgery. (And, FYI, she manages to hold in both the poops and the pees until someone gets home at 5pm).

Late yesterday afternoon, before I had left work, I got this email:

disaster!!‏
From:	Your mother (xxxxxxxxx@blueyonder.co.uk)
Sent:	13 November 2007 17:05:23
To:	Little Sausage (xxxxxxxxx@hotmail.com)

Just got back to find kitchen door open, dogs together,
HRH looking subdued and Sam very pleased with himself!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!11


Yep. Sam had opened the door to the living room and then scaled the half-door to the kitchen, done his business and was lying next to her. Fortunately there seemed to be no immediate damage - she was also fine this morning. We won't know for a while if he managed to cover her, or if he missed his target. From what the vet said, if she did conceive, she may be ok to carry the puppies. If she shows difficulties, there are get out clauses.

In the mean time, I pray that she is going to be able to carry the puppies to full term without any issues. Who needs a man when you can have a puppy?!

Today I am going to write a little about autism

It's a subject that really is quite an important subject to me - not because I am directly affected by it but, because I know people who are, I know how they struggle and I feel that there is too much ignorance, even now when the wealth of information is there for all to see. I am writing this post to hail those I know (and those I don't) who have to live with autism in one of its many forms, and who do not give up. I know four different families who all have an autistic child, and I thank heaven all the time that there are people like them on this earth.

The autistic spectrum is immense. A child may show 'autistic traits' such as communication and relationship issues, (often developing in to ADHD) through language impairments all the way to something like severe Asperger Syndrome. Living with a child with the mildest of these syndromes is difficult enough. Firstly, diagnoses are often made very late in a child's development. There is no cure (even with a disorder like ADHD where Ritalin is handed out like candy). It's not like you can give a child with autism a pill which will suddenly make them "normal". Children at the milder end of the spectrum, like those with ADHD are prescribed drugs which are known to de-humanize them, often causing terrible tics, psychosis, paranoia and in some cases, suicidal thoughts. Although the drug does quiesce the symptom (your 'unruly' child is put on a downer) for some children with ADHD, there are no such 'medical' treatments for children with more severe forms of Autistic Spectrum Disorders. Treatments are of the educational variety. It is very slow progress and, often enough, there is no visible progress at all. It is heartbreaking to watch the strain that some of my friends and their families are under. Relationships are pushed to critical capacities. There are never enough hours in the day to look after your autistic child. Everything takes longer than it would otherwise when you are trying to communicate with someone who does not know how to communicate with you. It's like me, in London, trying t communicate with someone who has been plucked out from their village made from mud huts in the Congo. The barriers to hurdle are numerous and, even with these, you are likely to be able to communicate better with this person from Africa than you are with a child with autism.

Don't get me wrong. There are some fantastic therapies out there. Things we take for granted, like simple thought processes, are often nigh on impossible, (yet are often achieved with a lot of therapy and even more hard work) and really should be given miracle status. But what I find most incredible, in all of the cases I have come across - whether personal or during my studies - is the strength of the parents. As far as I can tell, being a regular parent is stressful enough. But to have the extra difficulties of non-communication, severe violence, (because even kids - maybe that should read especially - kids can be violent) financial troubles, difficulties in social situations plus other worries about the future, must make life feel like wading through molasses; to be able to continue to exhibit such patience, the desire to keep going and this all-enveloping and totally unconditional love - in my book, that makes these people saints.

London did not burn down today

Just thought y'all would like to know.

Will DEFINITELY write a proper post tomorrow.

Well, well, well...

It seems that the weekend has already come to an abrupt end. I have lots to write about, but find myself with only 42 minutes until the end of today and way too much to do before tomorrow. I will definitely write a proper post then.

I have, however, managed to wear my new shoes all day - and they were just as comfortable when I took them off as they were when I tried them on in the shop.

This is LAME.

Tomorrow I will definitely post something worthwhile.

New shoes?

Yes! I got me some new shoes today. To celebrate what is (I hope) the end of terrible back pain and sciatica. I've been walking around in flats for too long now. The tendons in my legs have slackened. It all just feels so wrong! So, to train them back, (really just an excuse for some shoes) I have bought some not-so-highs. Purely for training purposes, you'll understand.

Humph

It seems everybody in the entire world (no, this is not an exaggeration) is either engaged or married. This is so depressing (although I am really happy for everyone who's hooking up. Really, I am).

New button

I have recently been thinking about just how strongly against the EU Constitution I really am. Why the bloody hell should some nitwit in Brussels dictate how our healthcare system works? Or how our justice system works? They shouldn't, that's the simple answer to the question. I have signed every possible petition I can find, calling for a referendum, and have now written to my MP. I may post the letter here at some stage, should he reply. In the mean time, any British readers who are AGAINST THE EU TREATY/CONSTITUTION, please see my new button below for loads of information. Then you'll know just how royally we are going to be screwed by Gordy and his minions.

When things just start to get way too p.c.

Today, the newspaper reports on how a Muslim girl, aged 19, is suing the owner of a hair salon in London because she didn't get the job. The salon owner had managed to work her way up, enough so that she could open her salon in the heart of London, and prides herself on her employees also displaying the eclectic, flamboyant style that she so reveres. Great! I have walked past her place quite a few times and it looks seriously cool. I, personally, would not be brave enough to have my hair cut like some of her stylists but I know a lot of people who are.

I'm not sure about you, but one of the first things you notice about your hairdresser is their hair. That's natural, right? If someone has a good hairstyle, then they're likely to style yours in a way that you'll like. That's my feeling anyway. Personally, I wouldn't go to a stylist who put a bowl over her head and let her 4 year old loose with the secateurs. That's my opinion. So, this lady who is obviously extremely focussed on her style, her business and the image that it portrays did not give the job to Ms Noah when it was determined that under no circumstances would she remove her headscarf. Fair enough - you want to cover your hair up? You're going to find it very difficult to secure yourself a job as a hairdresser - ESPECIALLY in an establishment such as this. People like to see their hairdresser's hair. Simple! Maybe, you know, if she makes such a name for herself that people would let her cut their hair whilst wearing a black sack over her head, then she can get away with her headscarf. But, dude, YOU ARE 19 YEARS OLD. THIS IS YOUR FIRST JOB. You've got to be flexible. Surely?

"I decided to sue this hairdresser because she upset me the most," says Ms Noah. After having been unsuccessful with applications to 25 different salons. Are you seeing a pattern here? It seems that everyone of her prospective employers thought exactly the same thing. And she chose to sue this particular lady for £15,000 for hurting her feelings.

GET OVER YOURSELF.

I jest not

Stupid Colleague: Um, LS, where are all the teaspoons?

Me: What do you mean, "where are all the teaspoons?" We have loads of teaspoons! (walks to kitchen).

Me: Um, Stupid Colleague, what do you call these? (pointing at dirty teaspoons in the sink).

Stupid Colleague: Well, they're teaspoons. But they're all dirty.

I love Americans...

I really do! Your accent is great, especially if you're from the Deep South and your name is Bubba. Even better if you have a shrimp boat. Americans are some of the most friendly people I've ever met. You're talkative, you smile and you don't look like you're about to pull a knife on someone for wearing a Cubic Zirconia ear stud in the left ear. Or is it the right?

Anyhow, this arrived in my inbox this morning, and some parts of it are so funny. I apologise now, (that's apologiSe, not apologiZe) if anyone's sensitive sensibilities are offended. It's really meant to just be funny...

To the citizens of the United States of America,

In light of your failure to elect a competent President of the USA and thus to govern yourselves, we hereby give notice of the revocation of your independence, effective today.

Her Sovereign Majesty Queen Elizabeth II will resume monarchical duties over all states, commonwealths and other territories.

Except Utah, which she does not fancy.

Your new Prime Minister (The Right Honourable Tony Blair MP, for the 97.85% of you who have until now been unaware that there is a world outside your borders) will appoint a Minister for America without the need for further elections.

The House of Representatives and the Senate will be disbanded.

A questionnaire will be circulated next year to determine whether any of you noticed. To aid in the transition to a British Crown Dependency, the following rules are introduced with immediate effect:

1. You should look up "revocation" in the Oxford English Dictionary. Then look up "aluminium." Check the pronunciation guide. You will be amazed at just how wrongly you have been pronouncing it.

The letter 'U' will be reinstated in words such as 'favour' and 'neighbour'; skipping the letter 'U' is nothing more than laziness on your part. Likewise, you will learn to spell 'doughnut' without skipping half the letters.

You will end your love affair with the letter 'Z' (pronounced 'zed' not 'zee') and the suffix "ize" will be replaced by the suffix "ise."

You will learn that the suffix 'burgh' is pronounced 'burra' e.g. Edinburgh. You are welcome to re-spell Pittsburgh as 'Pittsberg' if you can't cope with correct pronunciation.

Generally, you should raise your vocabulary to acceptable levels. Look up “vocabulary." Using the same thirty seven words interspersed with filler noises such as "uhh", "like", and "you know" is an unacceptable and inefficient form of communication.

Look up "interspersed."

There will be no more 'bleeps' in the Jerry Springer show. If you're not old enough to cope with bad language then you shouldn't have chat shows. When you learn to develop your vocabulary, then you won't have to use bad language as often.

2. There is no such thing as "US English." We will let Microsoft know on your behalf. The Microsoft spell-checker will be adjusted to take account of the reinstated letter 'u' and the elimination of "-ize."

3. You should learn to distinguish the English and Australian accents. It really isn't that hard. English accents are not limited to cockney, upper-class twit or Mancunian (Daphne in Frasier).

You will also have to learn how to understand regional accents --- Scottish dramas such as "Taggart" will no longer be broadcast with subtitles.

While we're talking about regions, you must learn that there is no such place as Devonshire in England. The name of the county is "Devon." If you persist in calling it Devonshire, all American States will become "shires" e.g. Texasshire, Floridashire, Louisianashire.

4. Hollywood will be required occasionally to cast English actors as the good guys. Hollywood will be required to cast English actors to play English characters.

British sit-coms such as "Men Behaving Badly" or "Red Dwarf" will not be re-cast and watered down for a wishy-washy American audience who can't cope with the humour of occasional political incorrectness. Popular British films such as the Italian Job and the Wicker Man should never be remade.

5. You should relearn your original national anthem, "God Save The Queen", but only after fully carrying out task 1. We would not want you to get confused and give up half way through.

6. You should stop playing American "football." There are other types of football such as Rugby, Aussie Rules & Gaelic football. However proper football - which will no longer be known as soccer, is the best known, most loved and most popular. What you refer to as American "football" is not a very good game.

The 2.15% of you who are aware that there is a world outside your borders may have noticed that no one else plays "American" football. You will no longer be allowed to play it, and should instead play proper football.

Initially, it would be best if you played with the girls. It is a difficult game. Those of you brave enough will, in time, be allowed to play rugby (which is similar to American "football", but does not involve stopping for a rest every twenty seconds or wearing full kevlar body armour like nancies).

We are hoping to get together at least a US Rugby sevens side by 2008.

You should stop playing baseball. It is not reasonable to host an event called the 'World Series' for a game which is not played outside of North America. Since only 2.15% of you are aware that there is a world beyond your borders, your error is understandable. Instead of baseball, you will be allowed to play a girls' game called "rounders," which is baseball without fancy team strip, oversized gloves, collector cards or hotdogs.

7. You will no longer be allowed to own or carry guns. You will no longer be allowed to own or carry anything more dangerous in public than a vegetable peeler. Because we don't believe you are sensible enough to handle potentially dangerous items, you will require a permit if you wish to carry a vegetable peeler in public.

8. The 4th of July is no longer a public holiday. The 2nd of November will be a new national holiday, but only in Britain. It will be called "Indecisive Day."

9. All American cars are hereby banned. They are crap, and it is for your own good. When we show you German cars, you will understand what we mean.

All road intersections will be replaced with roundabouts. You will start driving on the left with immediate effect. At the same time, you will go metric with immediate effect and without the benefit of conversion tables. Roundabouts and metrication will help you understand the British sense of humour.

10. You will learn to make real chips. Those things you call 'French fries' are not real chips. Fries aren't even French, they are Belgian though 97.85% of you (including the guy who discovered fries while in Europe) are not aware of a country called Belgium. Those things you insist on calling potato chips are properly called "crisps." Real chips are thick cut and fried in animal fat. The traditional accompaniment to chips is beer which should be served warm and flat.

Waitresses will be trained to be more aggressive with customers.

11. As a sign of penance 5 grams of sea salt per cup will be added to all tea made within the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, this quantity to be doubled for tea made within the city of Boston itself.

12. The cold tasteless stuff you insist on calling "beer" is not actually beer at all, it is lager . From November 1st only proper British Bitter will be referred to as "beer," and European brews of known and accepted provenance will be referred to as "Lager." The substances formerly known as "American Beer" will henceforth be referred to as "Near-Frozen Gnat's Urine," with the exception of the product of the American Budweiser company whose product will be referred to as "Weak Near-Frozen Gnat's Urine." This will allow true Budweiser (as manufactured for the last 1000 years in the Czech Republic) to be sold without risk of confusion.

13. From the 10th of November the UK will harmonise petrol (or "gasoline," as you will be permitted to keep calling it until the 1st of April) prices with the former USA. The UK will harmonise its prices to those of the former USA and the Former USA will, in return, adopt UK petrol prices (roughly $6/US gallon -- get used to it).

14. You will learn to resolve personal issues without using guns, lawyers or therapists. The fact that you need so many lawyers and therapists shows that you're not adult enough to be independent. Guns should only be handled by adults. If you're not adult enough to sort things out without suing someone or speaking to a therapist, then you're not grown up enough to handle a gun.

15. Please tell us who killed JFK. It's been driving us crazy.

16. Tax collectors from Her Majesty's Government will be with you shortly to ensure the acquisition of all revenues due (backdated to 1776).

Thank you for your co-operation.

Lacking Part III

Just got home. Feeling very numb. Duh. Anaesthetist was a bitch AND an idiot. Feel like I have swallowed glass. More tomorrow.

Lacking Part II

Poor excuse for a post, I know...

But amusing all the same!

Click here..

Lacking

This weekend is going to be rather short on the blog front. I have a head full of thoughts of anaesthesia and have had a bad argument with my brother.

Will try and find something more interesting to say tomorrow.

Night.

It's all a bit of a fluster

...here in the office. Prices are going waaay above target. Do we sell now, when the value is placed at $9 above our target sale price? Or do we leave it and hope that the market increases even more? And why is the value so (unexpectedly) high? Why are people willing to buy at those prices? What do they know about what's going to happen over the next quarter? Like I said. lots of questions, lots of uncertainty... meh.

On the way in to work, my mother dared me to have a shot of wheat grass from the smoothie kiosko at Victoria Station that we pass every day. Ay, Dios mio - I managed to get to work from the train station without barfing, but only just. I have never known anything so foul, and will definitely NEVER have that crap again.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, HRH is doing better every day. Her balance is still off, but she can stand, sit, walk and trot (she looks like a pony when she does this 'running' thing) and everyone is just so amazed at how well she's doing. Not long ago no-one believed she'd ever walk again. And now she's back, and more greedy than ever. Her love for cheese has grown stronger, and to make sure you know just how much she wants THAT BIT OF CHEESE, YES, THAT BIT THAT YOU HAVE IN YOUR HAND? I WANT IT, she drools in to your lap. Or makes a drool puddle on the floor. Whilst licking her lips. Nice. Thing is, she's just come on heat, and her back will definitely not take any kind of mounting action. So we have to figure out what to do with Sam. She won't be receptive for another couple of days, but he can't be around her (alone) when she is.

Monday I have my 'caudal epidural and facet joint injections'. Under general. Which scares the crap out of me.

And that's about it. A random post, I know - but I like the whole no direction thing today. It kind of matches my day perfectly.

Anon.

And I very nearly screamed

I got on the bus at the train station for the last leg of my journey to work, just as usual. It was running late, as usual. I got on, flashed my travel card at the bus driver who smiled and nodded and I went and sat in the seat I usually sit in. I see the same people every morning: the couple in their early 30s - you can tell that they live apart, and you can definitely tell when they've spent the night together; the two old ladies in the seats in front of me with matching plastic scarf/hat things to keep the damp off their freshly permed hair; the student in jeans that are big enough to fit at least three people in them, listening to Slayer or occasionally Cannibal Corpse loud enough so that everyone else riding the bus can hear it too. Very kind, I must say.

This morning, I was rocking out to a little Lynyrd Skynyrd on my way in, on the super-duper iPod (that I still don't really know how to use) my uncle gave me for my birthday which plays videos and has games and stuff, and playing Brick - you know, the game with all the bricks at the top that you have to knock out with the ball by controlling the paddle at the bottom. Two stops down the road, this guy got on, obviously high or drunk and stood by the exit doors, next to where I was sitting. Next thing I knew, he turned towards me and grabbed my iPod. The dude tried to steal my iPod! From out of my hands!! Who the hell did he think he was? And did he seriously think that I was going to let him make off with it? Hell no. Especially when I grabbed it off him and kicked him in the shin. I think he was a bit taken aback by my reaction. What did he think, that I was just going to let him have it?! Cheeky bastard. As soon as the bus slowed down enough at the traffic lights, he quickly pressed the emergency door release button, jumped out and promptly fell in to the road before getting up and stumbling off in the opposite direction.

And we hadn't even gotten to Westminster yet.