It's here! The occasion for the 3... 200th Roundup! Since it falls during ekka time, I had to substitute ekka strawberry sundaes for cake. I had one today - ah, childhood memories. Unless you're currently in Brisbane, you'll have to make do with feasting your eyes:
Well done, Mel. This - the roundup, of course, but I am also referring to the whole community - is an outstanding community. Through it, I am saner and wiser.
Although, to be honest, if there's two or more of you just take a taxi.
Suburban station.
Suburban Goth. 
How can you not like a city with year-round al fresco dining?
Through a strange twist of urban renewal, the local brewery (XXXX, of course) is smack bang in the middle of what we like to call "Silicon Gully" - the dotcom and IT district. Coincidence?
This is a picture of Brisbane's King George Square. I like to call it What The Fuck Are They Doing To King George Square.
The steps to the clinic, from halfway up. I hope there's not this many to our family-building journey.
Hope on the Hill - the clinic is on the left, behind the trees.
St Steven's in town...
...tourist pitstop, school excursion favourite, and good place to pray after your transfer.
Suburban carpark.
The middle of our street. (Our house not visible).
One of the sprawlingest cities ever. Over 30km later, we reach the northern outskirts from the centre of town.
This is just one stop on the Virtual World Tour! Once you've seen the sights, be sure to pack your bags and travel on to the next destination.
This roundabout road
Flings us hemispheres apart
Drawing us closer
Kiss me and goodbye
I leave, taking you with me
Towards, yet away.
---
Brought to you by Projgen's tag, according to Kirby's meme, and apologies to those who have tagged me for memes I am yet to do.
Drum Up Some Noise is a project based on the idea that sometimes, the best solution is to thrash the crap out of something. We take no responsibility for any breakages, but would love to hear a recording, see a video, or read a description of your efforts.
Here's how it all started.
And these are the people who've participated so far:
It seems every time I think of someone for my "Thinking Blogger" list I turn around and they've been nominated elsewhere. Which isn't to say they don't deserve to be nominated again, but I know there's more thoughtful folk out there than that, and I just want to, you know, share the love. Or the intellectualism, as it were.
I also notice I've been mentioned by a couple more people, to whom I say thankyou, but with a touch of sadness as it's clear you think way too much of me and therefore I can never, ever, ever meet you in real life.
Anyway!
Sunny Jenny had a post recently which made me think, although I wasn't quite feeling chipper enough to come up with any suitably punchy replies. Others have, though, and perhaps a few more can go around there and nut out a suggestion or two for The Comeback.
Beagle has been making me think lately as she transitions from ART to domestic adoption. Nica at Sandwich Life often does that, too.
Jenny always seems to be thinking of things, like partially password-protected blogs, and the sensitive subjects site, although to be fair, Rachel should get similar credit for Fertility Musings, Questions and Answers and its sister site, too.
And then I don't know whether to choose DI Dad, for all the DC info, thoughts, and news, or Jules for her songs-the-writers-never-knew-were-speaking-about-infertility. I guess I'll leave them both on the list. Y'all know it's nowhere near complete anyway, right?
The above-listed have the rare privilege of being allowed to add this plaque to their blog, and those who do memes can also think of five others to nominate.
There's a "Six Strange Things" meme going around at the moment. I was going to join in, but I couldn't think of anything to put. Following Mel's example, I asked Mr Bea.
"What about me is strange?" I said.
He thought for a moment. "Nothing, really," he answered. "You're a thoroughly unremarkable person."
"But all the other bloggers can think of lots of strange things!"
"Well, maybe your lack of strangeness is, in itself, strange." This met with a flat, unimpressed stare. "What are the others putting?"
"One of them used to get freaked out about changing her earrings, and another once punched a girl in the eye because she wanted to know what it felt like to punch someone."
"That is strange. Well, haven't you got any strange tales from your childhood? What about the dragons?"
Ah yes, the dragons.
I used to share a room with my sister. But there were dragons in the cupboard. Our parents explained to us over and over again that they were imaginary, but this did nothing to lessen our fear. So there were imaginary dragons in our cupboard - they were still dragons, weren't they? Night after night, upon hearing our wavering calls, our father would make the trip into our room to switch on the light, throw open the cupboard door, and proclaim, "Look! No dragons! Now go to sleep!" And we'd sigh with relief, because obviously he'd made the dragons go away, for a short while at least. Sometimes we'd get to sleep before they returned, sometimes not. But this was the problem - we both agreed he'd made the dragons go away, but we disagreed as to how.
My sister surmised that our father's presence was the key. Only he scared them off, and unless he was there, the cupboard doors should be kept firmly shut to delay their inevitable attack until we could call for his backup. I, on the other hand, after performing a number of controlled experiments under strict laboratory conditions (ie broad daylight) and later, in the field (ie just before bedtime), concluded that even I was able to make the dragons go away - by opening the cupboard doors. To me, the solution was clear: the doors should remain open. Thus began a series of escalating bedtime arguments based around the fact that my sister would not sleep with the cupboard doors open, and I would not sleep with them closed.
One particularly bad night our long-suffering father burst into the room brandishing a broomstick, a look of fury in his eyes. "Where are these dragons?" he demanded. "I'm going to slay them with my sword!" The next ten minutes were dramatic. With a curdling battle cry, he threw the cupboard doors open and immediately fell back as the dragons descended upon him. Holding up his imaginary shield, he steadied himself for his attack, thrusting forwards into one dragon's vulnerable underside as it descended upon him. It recoiled. "Help me!" he cried. "I can't see them because they're imaginary! What are they doing now?"
"There's one to the right above your shoulder!" we cried. "Careful! The second one's about to lift you up in his talons by your hair!"
"Hah! Hah! Hah!" our father grunted, thrusting his "sword" this way and that. "Did I get them?"
"Yes!" we squealed, delighted. And so the fight continued, out of the bedroom, through the hall, and down the stairway until at last our father booted them into the garage with his foot and slammed the door, shouting, "And stay out!" at their retreating forms. And from that night on, we slept comfortably in our beds, without fear of dragons bursting out of our cupboard.
But we refused to go into the garage for anything.
---
You guys know about the letter-writing media campaign, right? Well, Jules has put together a media contact list for those in Australia. More about it on her blog.
---
I've just realised what the moral of this story is. No matter how "imaginary" you think someone's problem is, you're not helping until you give it the validity they think it deserves, and agree to tackle it with them accordingly.
Shit, this writing things down really works sometimes.
---
Actually, now I've realised that moral makes it a lot like Smarshy's post about infertile women being like toddlers. Except my version has better choreography.
The rules are simple.
Take this quiz.
Then post a comment telling everyone what kind of freaky mother you are.
Two minutes, people, I promise!
Seven Books I Love
1. Around the World In Eighty Days (Jules Verne) - the book that changed my life. I guess something about taking a gamble and then cobbling it all together as you go along. Finding a new way when the plan fails, but keeping your aim in mind. That sort of thing.
But I also took it more literally, and the story led directly to my leaving Australia in 2001 with a few toiletries and travel items plus several changes of underwear in a carry-on bag, the clothes on my back and a credit card in my pocket, vowing not to return until I'd visited all the continents of the world. I missed Antarctica (see number eight of "seven things I'd like to do before I die"). Oh, and I haven't been to South America, but I've been north, so sometimes I cheat and count it anyway.
2. Mort (Terry Pratchet) - the first gift I received from Mr Bea.
3. Last Chance To See... (Douglas Adams) - who else can make you laugh as you read (and learn to care!) about the devastation of our planet and it's environment?
4. Natural Capitalism (Hawken et al) - if you've complained about petrol prices recently you need to read this book. Only after that can we talk. Read it - it's Very Cool, and also Important.
5. Cryptonomicon (Neal Stephenson) - a great story but it was the unexpected diversions and tangents that made me go, "Huh. I never thought about it like that before." Things I never thought I'd run into in a fictional tale about a WWII cryptographer and his grandson.
6. Something by Greg Egan - I'm not sure what. Could be Diaspora. Could be Axiomatic - his short stories. But today I'm going to go with Quarantine, because the guy in it was able to choose which part of the probability curve he existed on (it's science fiction) and I really want to be able to do that at the moment.
7. A Rage To Live (Mary S Lovell) - the biography of Richard and Isobel Burton. (Richard Burton the 19th century explorer and linguist, that is.) Incidentally, also the tale of a truly inspirational involuntarily childless couple. When I think of the possibility of a life without children, I think of them.
Seven Movies I Watch (Or Have Watched) Over and Over
1. The Princess Bride - I'm pretty sure I could still recite most of it, given a push-start.
2. Father Of The Bride (Steve Martin Version) - I used to babysit for this family that stayed out past midnight and owned very few videos. But it's not bad! Not deep, not hysterically amusing, but fun.
3. The home movie I once tried to make entitled, "[Mr Bea] Goes To Work!" Editing's a bitch. Lost to the annals of time, sadly, but etched so very deeply into my memory.
4. These are all very domestic so far, aren't they? What about... Spaceballs, The Movie. The movie of my pre-teen years.
5. The Heathers. The movie of my teen years.
6. How many times counts as over and over? Because I've become relatively unobsessive-compulsive since graduating from high school. And more empowered when it comes to movie viewing choices.
7. Ok, I'm going to go out on a limb here and list A Hong Kong Jackie Chan Movie. I'm pretty sure I've never seen any individual movie in this category more than twice, but that may be splitting hairs somewhat...
---
On a more personal note: this blog will be unattended until beta day, owing to us going away for holidays. That's right! Away. On holiday.
1. His taste in comedy and sense of humour.
2. His concern for me in times of distress.
3. His willingness to put up with my moods even without explanation, and his ability to say the right thing at the right time. The second seems to have declined somewhat with age... but still solidly above average, I think.
4. The lovesick poems he wrote to me.
5. The way he looks at me, and the way he sees me.
6. Anybody ready to throw up yet? Is it time to chip in with "his tasty physique and manly ways"?
7. The easiness of our every interaction - the way it all just feels right.
Musings: There are a lot of very "me" things on this list, I've realised. Of course, the reasons I stay with him/think he's worth procreating with in any way possible are less self-centred. I promise. But when I was first attracted to him there was a whole lot of other stuff going on and, well, I guess it was just like that. A bit. At first. I've grown since then. Honest.
1. You mean apart from get pregnant like I want to?
2. But girls can do anything, can't they?
3. Get motivated enough to tick some stuff off from the first list.
4. Look skilled whilst playing sport.
5. Go through life without doing things I regret from time to time.
6. Cook anything that involves sculpting or wrapping. (Eg Fish cakes, spinach and fetta triangles... that sort of thing.)
7. Work out what photos to enlarge and hang in the living room. And where.
Musing: I don't actually feel 100% comfortable with this list. I think a lot of the things listed fall more into the category of "things I could do if only I wanted them enough and was willing to put the effort in". I think I prefer to think of things in that light. Like, I could make fish cakes, but I find it difficult and I don't feel like rising above that difficulty. But I could. If I really tried.
The only things that really belong on this list are numbers one and five. I think that's why they hurt so much.
It's become clear that doing all those lists at once is pretty exhausting. So here they are, in chapters.
1. Parent (you're going to be hearing this one a lot round this little blogging group, folks).
2. Busk - some sort of horribly earnest self-composition about how angry and unfulfilled I am being middle class. And infertile.
3. Find a job I like - maybe parenting?
4. Live for several years in an Eastern Asian country (see - that one wasn't about having babies at all).
5. Volunteer for a role in some overseas aid organisation, and, like, help people whilst exploring new cultures and stuff.
6. Um... be a grandparent?
7. Become a real live creator of... something creative. Like the author of a play, or the director of a short film. Something that gets seen by strangers. Blog doesn't count. Sorry - you guys aren't strange enough.
8. And! Visit Antarctica. If you wait several posts you'll see why I just thought of this one.
Oh! And P.S. If you're wondering what all this is about, ask Meg. She'll tell you.
First of all, I would like to make an apology to everyone who's been the victim of my irritating assvice lately. Yes, it's a phase. It comes and goes. Soon, it will go again. Promise.
Five Items
Fridge
Roasted artichoke hearts - two opened jars of.
Left over pregnyl, puregon, progesterone pessaries.
Hot bean paste.
Half a home-grown watermelon.
Tofu sausages.
Closet
There are less than five items in my closet at the moment.
This is a Long Story.
In fact, there are only two items: DH's interview suit, and a pair of calf-high lace-up stilettos (not part of the same outfit).
The rest is evenly strewn about the bedroom.
Car
Several wire coathangers.
A dog crate, water bowl, food bowl, and pillow.
Road maps for our city and Australia in general.
Some small change.
A mouth organ.
Handbag (Backpack)
Doggie poo bags.
A large pocket knife.
More wire coathangers.
A receipt for an FET cycle.
Several novelty keyrings, unused.
...I couldn't quite get the energy up for linkistration. Maybe I'll come back and edit in the 2ww.
Posts
All Comments
