Paused

My life has been set on pause for the last few months.

Every day I have been waiting; waiting for the nurse to return my call, waiting while driving an hour to the hospital, waiting for the doctor, waiting for a lift, waiting in line at the café around the street because the hospital has banned my beloved Coca Cola, waiting for the night to end without receiving an urgent call about her condition, waiting at a specialists, waiting for a time machine to be invented so I can go back to last year and prepare for said waiting.

My grandmothers health has been poor since late last year. A late night trip to the hospital last August revealed a long sinus pause in her heart, the doctor was slightly concerned and referred her to a cardiologist who performed various tests. One of the last tests he ordered was a holter monitor in February. After wearing the holter monitor for 24 hours she was told that the cardiologist would take a look and get back to her in a few days. She strolled down to the bus stop and decided to stop in the city to do some shopping before returning home. Just as the bus pulled up to the stop and she prepared to board, she heard someone screaming her name. It was two nurses, running in her direction and screaming her name, followed by another nurse with a wheelchair. When they finally reached her, they told her that there was a serious problem, that the cardiologist wanted to admit her so he could assess her situation. My grandmother, stubborn at heart, asked them if she could come back later, as she wanted to do some shopping. Five minutes later the nurses finally convinced her that it was urgent, then a few hours later my Gran was on a ward, hooked up the heart monitors, having her blood pressure taken hourly and still unsure what all the fuss was about.

The fuss was about a three second sinus pauses during the day and a six-ten second sinus pauses at night time. She was kept in hospital for over a week in late February. Treatment was a pacemaker, but her doctors were concerned about her high blood pressure, various clotting medications and low white blood cell count, they decided to postpone the procedure for a week and try to stabilise her blood pressure and blood count. My Gran spend her days in hospital protesting politely. She is very independent and despises anyone making a fuss. She told the doctors to just get on with and and not worry about her, as she was sure they had more important things to do, they laughed and pointed out that worrying about her was their job and she was their most critical patient in their care.

When I visited her in hospital, I first noticed that she was hooked up to monitors and looking quite sickly and tired, the first things she asked me was “who won the cricket last night?” I laughed, she told me that her motto is ‘nothing in life is more important than lotto, cricket and football’. After I found out the cricket scores from another patient, I went to find a vase for the flowers I had bought her. I found a vase near the nurses station, as I snipped off the stems the head nurses said, “your Gran really scares the night staff” in a serious tone that caught me off guard. I asked why – given that she in her late 80’s and doesn’t own a gun – he replied, “her sinus pauses at night, they’re becoming too long, they sit watching the monitor ready to page the doctor.” After that confession I no longer slept well at night either.

Coke

During another visit I stopped by her unit to gather some of her belongings. Betty, one of my Grandmothers friends, met me outside and inquired about when she was coming home. I told her I was unsure, then she asked if I would pass on well wishes to my Gran and that she missed gossiping with her. I replied, “of course, I’m sure she misses your company and can’t wait to see you again” with a smile. Betty was pleased. She bid goodbye and proceeded to walk away. Then she suddenly paused and turned around to say possibly one of the nicest compliments I’ve ever received, “you remind me of my granddaughter, she always looks me in the eye when she talks to me and has such a warmth about her. You don’t see that in a lot of young people these day. Your Grandmother is lucky to have you.”

I must say, RPH have fantastic staff. I am astounded by their professionalism and friendliness. You simply look confused in a corridor and a orderly appears – as if by teleportation – and asks you if you need some assistance. It’s sad that the government plan to close such a historical hospital.

My only gripe – a frivolous one at that – is there seems to be a ban on classic Coca Cola at the hospital. Upon consulting the nurses, I found out they score a hit of Coke from the dealers down the street and I then started buying Coke in bulk for myself and the day nurses.

My grandmother was discharged from the hospital two days after they put in the pacemaker. She then stayed with me for a week so I could keep an eye on her and while she watched the cricket. Apart from some bruising and the pacemaker needed it’s pulse/speed changed, she is feeling dramatically better. She has returned home to gossip with her friend Betty and is quite perplexed as to why she feels a tad weak when walking to the shops. Her doctor says it will take six-eight weeks for her to fully recover and for her to take it easy.

Alas, easy is not how my Gran rolls.

Sexiest Geek

According to Wired’s third annual Sexiest Geeks list, I am one of 2007’s sexiest geeks.

Sexy Geek

I’m unsure what one is meant to say when they receive such a prestigious and esteemed nomination.

Every year, Wired nominates the smartest, sexiest and most Wired men and women of the year. I’m up there with the sexy greats; Danica McKellar, Kary Byron, Amber MacArthur, Kary Byron (her clone), Morgan Webb, Olivia Munn, Leah Culver, Veronica Belmont, Felicia Day, Leah Culver (another clone), Kristen Bell, Alyson Hannigan and Joss Whedon. Who sadly seems to be the last man standing in the top-rated list. Whedon must possess some awesome fanboy powers or have hundreds of monkeys to do his evil biddings.

And then there is me, somewhere in the middle of it all, with 830 positive and 476 negative votes. Accompanying my photo is a short description which claims that I possess “mad CSS skillz” and that I enjoy playing WoW. Mad CSS skillz, that is such a nice thing for you to say… I mean, my code is really depreciated. I know, I’ve been wanting to release my re-design into the wild, but I’m trying to overachieve with it, do something amazing, which is a bit like trying to bend a spoon with your mind when you have no mind to bend it wit… Wait a minute.

Since when do I play WoW?

I’m pretty sure I have never played World of Warcraft, as I prefer FPS over MMORPG’s. So unless my WoW playing friends have drugged and kidnapped me for the horde or someone is posing as me on WoW (which would be a new level of weird that has yet to be achieved by my fakers/posers), I’m pretty sure I have never played WoW.

Does this mean you were lying about the “mad CSS skillz” too?

Update…

I have been cloned. There are now two of me present on Wired’s Sexiest Geeks of 2007 list. Can you pick which one is the cyborg?

Sexy Geek

2008 Predictions

I’ve never been a fan of resolutions made hastily while celebrating the start of a new year. Why not embark on resolutions throughout the year, instead of making unreachable resolutions to cease bad habits, then proceeding to give them up before the Easter bunny is due? I prefer predictions.

So ladies, gentlemen, drunk people who are waking up from NYE induced paralysis, ninjas, and pirates; here are my 2008 predictions for your perusal…

  • Imitation beer flavoured Coca Cola; no alcohol, no sugar, no fat, no point.
  • An American man tries to eBay his wife’s brain. He claims she no longer uses it.
  • Cookie Monster comes out of the closet and admits he really loves brownies, not cookies.
  • Amy Winehouse is arrested for kidnapping a four year old boy. She maintains the boy curled up and fell asleep in her beehive hairdo, and that she was too drunk to hear the screams of terror upon his waking in the darkened beehive of doom.
  • Signs used during the writers strike announce that they will be striking until demands of better hours and conditions are met. One sign says he was left on the side of the road while a writer went for Starbucks. The unnamed sign now suffers from PTS (Post Tarmatic Stress).
  • An American lady tries to eBay her husbands penis. She claims he doesn’t know how to use it properly, and she would rather it be owned by a more experienced user.
  • Britney Spears starts her own blog. The tag line reads, “Dis iz ma buloowwg ya’lll” and confuses readers with her intoxicated ramblings.
  • Google releases a ‘Britney to English’ translator.
  • Oprah starts Twittering.
  • President Bush is excited when he finds Bin Laden. The joy is short lived when his advisors point out that he has found Wally, not Bin Laden.
  • Twittering is finally acceptable at the dinner table because Oprah is doing it.
  • Apple releases the iSuck. A vacuum cleaner that analyses your household dirt to alert you of any pathogens lurking under your feet.
  • 2-girls-1-cup; the musical.
  • A young man in England discovers a hidden achievement for Guitar Hero 3 on Xbox Live after his girlfriend smashes his guitar during the 759th performance of ‘Through the Fire and Flames’. He said he was shocked to see “Achievement Unlocked: Owned :p” appear on the screen.
  • Humans now cooler than Ninjas and Pirates combined.
  • Paris Hilton and Kevin Federline hook up. Oh… Wait, too late.

Leet WoW Hacker

I was doing some grocery shopping today, and as I stood in the pasta aisle perusing mediterranean vegetable sauces I overheard this conversation between two middle aged ladies…

“I found this strange payment on my credit card statement today… My son was the last to use it to pay his phone bill, I questioned him about it and he said it was for some WoW thing. He said it was a game, but I’m not completely sure, I think he might be one of them hacker kids.”

“Noooo!”

“He always uses these strange sayings, like ‘owned’ around his sister, he said ‘FTW’ yesterday when I brought home pizza for dinner. I don’t know what they mean. I think it’s hacker speak.”

“I saw a documentary on them, they could make free phone calls and everything! They called the Pope, Oprah and the White House!”

“Really? Maybe he’s doing that; calling all his friends for free and, shit, I hope Telstra doesn’t find out and sue us!”

I couldn’t help but laugh at this point, the sheer stupidly of the conversation brought out a chuckle in me, as I laughed the two ladies turned and looked at me. I had to think of something to say to avoid being rude…

“You know, if he starts saying he’s doing raids, watch out…”

I paused, looked around, and then leaned in closer…

“It’s a secret WoW code word for hacking into government computers.”

I nodded knowingly and walked away. I meant to be sarcastic, but it seemed to come off as honestly and insight. Oops. I would like to take this opportunity to say sorry to the poor young lad whose WoW fun I have ultimately killed. So sorry. So very very sorry.

I totally owned you.

Stop, Trolley Thief

Dear Trolley Thief,

We met today at the supermarket. Do you remember? I left my trolley full of food and some of my mail unattended for only a few seconds with the belief that no one is desecrate enough to steal another shoppers trolley. Oh how I was wrong.

As I looked at turkey steaks in the meat section you did just that, you broke The Supermarket Rules &#153 by sneaking in and whisking my trolley away down an aisle. It’s squeaking wheels were muffled by the shrieking sounds of “I Think I’m In Love With You” by Jessica Simpson playing over the speakers. By the time I realised what had transpired you had already starting filling said trolley, my trolley, full of cheap cuts of meats and potato chips to blend in with the food buying crowd. You can’t trick me Mr Trolley Stealer. I checked every trolley in the supermarket and finally found you after you eluded me for ten minutes in the canned good section.

It was easy to pick you out. The blueberries and tampons gave you away as they don’t fit with your beard, long unwashed hair, tacky plaid shirt and male genitalia look you have going on.

When you were caught, you looked guilty and wouldn’t make eye contact, you tried to use some story about how you were merely escorting the trolley to the front of the store to report it as lost, that Doritos and chunky beef style soup just happened to fall into it on the way to the front of the store, then you became so dazed and confused by the magical moving food that you yourself became lost and couldn’t work out the front from the back of the store. I saw right through your magical food facade. I demanded you cease and desist holding my trolley hostage, at which point you ran like the potato chip loving little girl that you are.

The only logical reason I can determine for the supermarket aisle robbery is the fact I had mail in my trolley ripe for the picking. Granted, I am aware that one should not leave anything valuable in their trolley, alas, if you had looked more closely you would have seen that my mail consisted of no real value. Besides bills, the only item of worth was a Kath & Kim magnet set I purchased on eBay. I know it felt heavy and you probably thought it was drugs, but I can assure you, there was nothing of worth and the magnet set wouldn’t have been your cuppa tea.

Mr Trolley Stealer, if I see you again in the fruit section I would duck if I was you, because I’m highly protective of my trolley and retaliation comes in the form of a flying pineapple being hurled at your head.

Love and blueberries,
Kitta xoxo

2007 Predictions

My predictions for 2007…

  • Lindsay Lohan fancies herself as a politician, moments later she finds a stray dog to play with and then contemplates being a dog washer.
  • Water flavoured Coca Cola; no calories, no sugar, no fat.
  • Michael Jackson and Paris Hilton hook up. He impregnates her and the whole world hopes there will never be a sex tape and that the baby isn’t male.
  • Miss USA contest now scours MySpace for suitable skanky contenders. Entrants told to reveals as much as possible and cry like a baby when asked about revealing photos from their past, they will also be required to pose for playboy after having a press conference saying they regretted said revealing photos.
  • McParis meal; stick of celery, 1/2 a cup of water, small peeled baby carrot and an annoying yappy little dog toy.
  • A TV network funds a new reality TV show called ‘Nigerian Prince’ in which ladies must compete to win the heart and millions belonging to the prince, millions that he claims are hidden from secret agents and family members, only one lucky lady will be given the honour of handing over her bank account.
  • Britney Spears starts an underwear line called ‘Upskirt’ so she will never be without a pair again.
  • Oprah starts Vodcasting.
  • People finally know what the word Vodcast means because Oprah is doing it.
  • Rosie and Donald resolve their issues in a Wii boxing match. Rosie kicks some ass and Donald says that it just proves she is a man. Entertainment Tonight broadcasts the event and the IQ of everyone watching drops dangerously low.
  • Apple releases the iTooth, their smallest version of the iPod that fits into a cavity in your tooth. Users can jam anywhere without the need of headphones. It also releases iMint mouthwash every hour to keep your mouth iMinty fresh.
  • Two guys make millions from some .com they cooked up in their basement filled with rats, hundreds of completely frivolous beta’s pop up, their owners hoping that they too will be bought out by Google.
  • Some guy knocks himself unconscious with his Wii remote and lies dead for days in his apartment. Wii now know as an extreme gaming console and only available to purchase with proof of identification. Wii’s now overtake sales of kidneys and baby on the black-market.
  • Playstation developers contemplate making their controllers deadly to improve sales, spikes and replacement of rumble packs with electrocution packs considered.
  • Rabbits now cooler than Ninjas and Pirates combined.

Kinky Monitor

I’m a few weeks into my onslaught of needles and I have only experienced minor reactions so far consisting of itchy skin and hives. Alas, my doctor isn’t satisfied with just sticking me with needles, oh no, this past week he has attached a multi-day holter monitor to me day and night.

Is it just me, or does ‘holter monitor’ sound semi kinky?

I have been experiencing palpitations for over a year now, they happen a few times a month and last about 8 to 15 hours, and I also experience dizziness, shortness of breath and slight chest discomfort. At first I put it down to a virus, anaemia or just stress from illness, but my doctor wants to investigate to make sure there are no arrhythmias; he thinks there’s nothing to worry about.

Holter Monitor

Last Friday I had the monitor ‘installed’ by a technician who must have done a thousand of them by the way he rushed through it all, “it’s not rocket science” he joked as he placed the right leg electrode on my lower abdomen. Indeed it isn’t. It is quite annoying to sleep with it though – I get about 20 to 30 minutes sleep before I wake up twisted in wires and with one of the electrodes pulled out – and I’ve felt very sleep deprived all week. I’ve had a lot of questions about it over the past week, such as…

Q. Does the monitor make beeping sounds or show you what your heart is doing?
A. Nope, neither sound nor recordings are visible or audible via the unit, it is all recorded to a memory card in the unit.

Q. Does it play Tetris?
A. Sadly, no.

Q. Will it interfere with your phone?
A. No, it’s not a pacemaker or an aeroplane.

Q. Is it WIFI compatible?
A. Again, no.

Q. Can you shower or bathe?
A. Yes, the technician gave me enough replacement ECG electrodes to have three showers this past week, I simply un-hook the monitor, take off the electrodes, shower, replace the electrodes with new ones and re-attach the monitor.

Q. When you shower won’t it show up that you’re dead?
A. No, they know I’m not dead when I re-attached it.

Q. Have you thought about hooking it up to a chipmunk to freak out your doctor?
A. No, due to the fact that we don’t have chipmunks in Australia and that if we did Matt would want one as a pet.

Thankfully, tomorrow afternoon I return the less than three monitor and return to normal, I shall celebrate with a long hot bath and sleeping uninterrupted on my stomach. 🙂

Lemon Party

If you are contemplating hotlinking to my CSS files because you can’t be bothered uploading the files to your own server, I suggest you think twice before doing so (especially when I’m PMSing), because if you do decide to hotlink to any of my files my magical logs will tell me about it, and then I will be forced to lemon party your ass and totally enjoy the whole process! Example below…

Note: If you are eating dinner, under 18 or don’t like old man porn, please avert your eyes from the image below.

……

………

Lemon Party

You have been warned.

Sergio: “Ah… the things you could accomplish if you used your gifts for good instead of evil.”

Emailing England

My mother isn’t very good with computers, sure she can type up letters and play solitaire, but anything to do with the internet eludes her, especially when it comes to email…

Mum: I have to send an email to someone I know in England.
Me: Do you have her email address?
Mum: Yes, but she’s in England.
Me: So…
Mum: She’s in England.
Me: Mum, you can send and check email from wherever you are in the world; it’s not like a physical street address with a mailman who sometimes gets drunk and loses the mail.
Mum: Oh. Are you sure?
Me: Yes mum, I’m sure.
Mum: But she’s in England, how will it get there?
Me, mumbling under my breath: On the back of a magical email elf that likes to eat peas dipped in cranberry sauce and listens to Enya.
Mum, who thankfully wasn’t listening closely enough to hear my smart-assed reply: What?
Me: Nothing, just send the email to her.
Mum: Ok.

A short time later she returns with an accomplished smile on her face…

Mum: You were right, I sent it, and she replied.
Me: No kidding.
Mum: Yes, it’s amazing this email thing.
Me: That it is.

On behalf of Firefox

The phone rings and I pick it up, because that is what one does with a phone…

Telemarketer: Hi I’m calling on behalf of [Insert phone company which calls so much it could be classified as stalking], would you be interested in changing over to [Insert stalkers name again]? If you change over now we’ll pay half of your existing bill.

Bugger.

Nikita: Half you say?
Telemarketer: Yes, half.

I was reeling her in, giving her a taste of a sale and then…

Nikita: No, I wouldn’t, but let me ask you a question. What is your current web browser?
Telemarketer: Excuse me?
Nikita: Web browser, the software you use to view websites, most people use Internet Explorer.
Telemarketer: Ahh yeah, I umm, think I use that one.
Nikita: Ok, well did you know that there is an alternative?
Telemarketer: No.

That no had a strong ‘you have got to be fucking kidding me’ tone attached to it.

Nikita: Firefox is one of the alternatives. It’s safer, faster and a hell of a lot cooler.
Telemarketer: Ooookkk.

Tone now more of a sarcastic ‘you’re insane and I’m so about to hang up’.

Nikita: If you’d like more information go to Getfirefox.com.

Silence hung in the air for a few seconds, and then I could hear her rustling around, possibly looking through the manual on what to do if the person you’re calling tries to talk you into something.

Telemarketer: Um, sur-k…

I beleive that is a new word, a mixture of sure and ok, that oddly enough sounds like a great name for a breakfast cereal. “Sur-K, it’ll put the Sure in your K.” Possible explanation for the new word: She was contemplating why she was a telemarketer when a tiny section of her brain that knew it was wrong exploded and the ‘e’ never made it from her brain to her vocal cords and out of her mouth. It was then that I decided it was time for me to go.

Nikita: Thanks for your time and remember, use the fox.

I had to go, I had other telemarketers to try and covert, such as the insulation dude who was due to ring any minute to enquire if I’m hot in summer and cool in winter and offer to reverse it for me. I also had to make cookies in the shape of the Firefox logo to hand out to the Mormons when they stop by way too early next Sunday morning.

“No I don’t believe in god, but tell me this, do you believe in the great almighty Firefox?”