It's the baby hormones, they make a person sensitive

I just want to know: has the entire internet been taken over by ads for "1 Rule to a Flat Stomach", or just my corner of it?

Srsly. Practically every page I visit has some variation on the same ad. In these days of Google Adsense, it's hard not to take this personally.

ETA: Wow. Apparently ads really are targeted now based on recent pages wot I have visited, and such, and so this really must be personal. I am feeling somewhat harassed. Also: okay so I'm a new mommy and so have flabbage, but what part of my internet activity makes them believe I am actually going to believe I can shed twice Elfbaby's weight in stomach fat alone in a month? Unless their "1 weird rule" is "GET THEE TO A PLASTIC SURGEON, WOMAN, AND HAVE YOUR JAWS WIRED WHILE YOU'RE AT IT!"

The toast was apparently a really important part of the advice-giving process

My subconscious appears to be developing a new level of maturity... or something. You know those dreams where you're about to sit exams and you realise you haven't prepared, or really even attended class all year? Yeah. Those. Well, mine tend to have a certain consistency and vague connection to my real life. So, instead of the simple "oh crap I somehow forgot I was taking this class", it becomes "oh crap I really meant to actually take this class but instead there's that running a business thing and that having a baby thing and it all sort of got in the way a bit".

So in last night's dream I got a bit proactive about this. Sort of. I reached the mature conclusion that I was obviously not going to graduate this year, so I should see what I could do about rearranging my classes and focusing on just one or two for now and picking up more next year, seeing if I couldn't get some credit for previous studies, and getting a bit realistic about what I actually wanted to study, I mean maths and physics are CLEARLY not my thing...

And of course I went to see extemporanea for a spot of curriculum advice. Naturally. I was actually quite relieved that I happened to know the adviser person, as that made me feel a bit more comfortable with the whole "yeah, I screwed up" bit, even as I was begging her not to laugh as I revealed that I'd even signed up to maths and physics in the first place. It was quite a pleasant chat. I was interested to note that she seemed to have an assistant whose job consisted entirely of preparing toast.

What remains to be explained, however, is what I was doing majoring in English and economics for yet another Bachelor's degree, considering I already have a degree in each of those. In that light, maths and physics would almost have made more sense.

Covet!

Tactical corsets!


(I know, I know. This is what Twitter is for. Bah humbug.)

Shears? Really?

Garden shears aren't exactly the first thing that springs to mind in association with Priapus.



(A sickle is probably the second thing.)

Thwarted ambition

This potato couldn't decide whether it wanted to be a duck, or a Henry Moore sculpture... but it ended up just a potato.



Still, so far it's avoided the pot. I can't make up my mind what manner of cooking would best honour its higher spuddity.

In which It Has Gone Too Far

The Daniel Craig version, weirdly enough

Last night I dreamt James Bond was my boyfriend. But then he got demoted from a special agent to a customs agent, which just wasn't as sexy.

And then he turned into House and had something scathing to say about that.

Let not eBay's left hand know what eBay's right hand is doing

So I try to sign into my eBay account, but apparently my password - the same password I've been using quite a lot lately, bidding on baby stuff - is incorrect. So I try to reset.
I get an email with a link. I click the link. It wants my username. I enter it.
It tells me that is an invalid username.
I check it. I check the username in the eBay email, just to be sure. It's definitely the right username.
I copy/paste the username from that email.
Still invalid.
I click on "Get help". It is not helpful.
I enter eBay as a guest so I can look for more help. I click "contact us".
It bumps me back to the login page. I guess only eBay members are allowed to contact eBay.
I am an eBay member. I am currently bidding on a number of items, in fact. I know perfectly well what my username is, and I'm pretty sure of my password too, but eBay doesn't believe me. Even though its own emails use that name.

Conundrum.

Baby Jekyll & Hyde; or, Diary of a Learner Mum

[Originally posted on springonmars. Shameless recycling of content R us.]

Day 1.
Had baby. Hurt. Hospital left baby in cot by my bed all night long. Are they kidding? I do not know how to drive this thing. Three other mums and babies in ward; none of them cried half as much as my baby. Very embarrassing. Want to go home now please. (Will take baby with if I have to.)
s
Day 2.
At home. Baby still crying. Will figure this out. Husband displaying signs of Superdaddy talents; I knew he had it in him.

Day 4.
Baby STILL crying. Apparently Superdaddy needs to sleep occasionally. This breastfeeding thing really bloody hurts; also, must I really wake up every 2-3 hours to feed baby? Doesn’t seem fair.

Day 5.
Progress! We have succeeded in getting baby to fall asleep in her own basket. Eventually. Have been advised to let her cry for 10 minutes before going to her. It seems to work but those are 10 very long minutes. Feel so cruel!

Day 8.
We are damn fine parents. Baby is falling asleep faster every night and is spending less and less time crying after the 5am feed. Getting into routine. We have clean laundry and everything. Sweet baby! I see the point of these little critters at last. Warm, cuddly, smell nice. Pull cute faces.

Day 12.
So lucky to have angel baby. Sleeps like a dream. Feeds like a little barracuda, but that’s good, not too much time on breast. Perfectly trained to go to bed and stay quiet. Looks so pretty too. Well done us. We have this thing nailed.

Day 13.
Well buggernuts. Superdaddy had to run errands and clearly baby missed him a lot. Cranky all afternoon. Not feeding well - keeps popping off to have a good cry. Not very polite or politic, baby, dissing the food supply like that. But I understand, you just had a bad day. Poor little thing.

Day 15.
Superdaddy has been back at work two days and baby has turned into demon. What happened? Don’t you remember how to sleep? It’s easy, look, I’ll show you… OH WAIT I CAN’T YOU WON’T LET ME.

10-minute rule not working so well any more. Fell asleep despite screams and let baby yell for 30 minutes. Whoops.

Day 17.
Baby just as much of demon when Superdaddy is home. Nothing will calm her, nothing. I wouldn’t mind needing to give full-time attention if she at least showed some sign of enjoying it, but no, cuddles mean nothing to her! Nothing! In fact she screams all the louder. I think she hates me. I think she resents having to rely on me for food. I really do.

Day 19.
I am the worst mummy ever. Baby has made that abundantly clear, and let’s face it, she is too young to lie. Nothing will purge the shame. Have ordered Japanese sword online (one of the few things I can do while trying to rock cranky baby to sleep with one arm). Have made baby a solemn vow: as soon as she is weaned I will commit harakiri. Am not telling Superdaddy as he might object to being left in sole charge of demon. I mean baby.

Day 20.
Suicide vow seems to have appeased demon baby. Either that or yesterday’s mondo crying jag exhausted her; either way she slept through the night almost solidly for 13 hours (minus 45 min midnight feed and nappy change). Mostly calm today, though very hungry. Taken up weird new way of playing with nipple when she’s finished feeding. Baby has very odd sense of humour.

Day 21.
I did it, I did it! Cuddled crying baby into calm sleepiness - and it took only 2 minutes! And I swear she enjoyed it! And she slept so well last night! And is so sweet this morning! SHE LIKES ME SHE REALLY LIKES ME!

Must check returns policy on sword purchase.

Alive and laughing

I did not die in childbirth! Here's the proof.

But really I just needed to share two things of great hilarity. First, sloths on the tube.

Second, squirrels in the toilet. Or Weetabix. Or Creme Eggs. Beware!

Now going back underground. Or to put Scrooblet to sleep. Or something.

Now with added stupidity

Thanks to Jill for pointing me to Not Always Right, a source of great entertainment, a warm sense of familiarity and Deep Thought.* Well, maybe not so much the Deep Thought part. But this bit does tie in to something I was talking to Beloved about this morning.

See, he bought a tube of toothpaste. (How's that for an intro! You're agog to know what happens next, aren't you?) Anyway, different brand to the usual, and I took one look at it and identified it as American. For why? Because the tube features the instruction: "Squeeze tube from end." (And another line to the same effect, that I forget. I'm not going to check or photograph it, like a good blogger, because Beloved is sleeping off night shift and I'd only disturb him.) Now, I am very sorry my Yankee friends, but there is something deeply American about spelling out how to use a toothpaste tube. No? This is not exactly high technology.

I should point out that Beloved disagrees with me. He thinks this is a very sensible thing to put on the tube, because "so many people get it wrong and the tube ends up a horrible mess when it's squeezed in the middle, which is Just Wrong!" Which is all very well, but really: is it necessary to tell the consumer how not to make a mess? Can they not be left to form their own habits and have their own domestic squabbles about who is doing it right or wrong? (Did you know that there is a Right and a Wrong way to hang a toilet roll? Uh huh. I bet a comment poll would reveal that many of you agree with this in principle, but you'd differ on which way was the Only Right Way.)

So I was trying to figure out the rationale behind printing this on the tube. It strikes me as excessively patronising, but without any clear purpose. I mean, "Warning: Coffee is hot!" is also pretty damn patronising. But you know that the companies putting up those signs are doing it to cover their ass, because as seen above, people will sue. I don't really see any health and safety issues with the toothpaste tube, though. Thoughts?

_____
* But this one just makes me sad, because she is clearly disturbed.

Darth Wader

From explainthisimage.com, via Non-Working Monkey.

I don't actually want to explain the images though. I think I really prefer them without the captions. There's not enough unapologetic surrealism in the world.

Excuse me ma'am, do you have a licence to drive that internet?

I really shouldn't be writing this.

It's not nice to laugh at stupid people. And it's *really* not nice to call a customer stupid.

But REALLY.

I've received a couple of very irate emails from an American customer, wanting to know why she had been charged $90 instead of $62 for her order. Of course, the order total actually came to £62. It's all down to the miracle of global commerce.

Now, on Ravelry and in email, I have been accused of being "very sneakkkkyyyyyy" and of practising deception on my poor unsuspecting customers by not spelling out that my BRITISH site uses BRITISH currency. I am not sure exactly how much more spelling out is required. Consider:
- the domain name ends in co.uk - I even put that in my online ads, to make it clearer for forruners who might happen to see the ads
- all prices everywhere, including order totals etc, are clearly marked with a £ symbol
- foreign addresses at checkout trigger the options to choose between "international airmail" and "international surface mail"
- etc, etc, etc...

So I was a little bit gobsmacked. However, there are more clues that this poor woman is - shall we say - a few stitches short of a sock. Consider:
- her Rav name includes a misspelled version of a word meaning insane
- she claims she was cheated out of $40 (90 minus 62? Hm)
- the best part? She is furious that my evil, scheming, deceptive shop did not show that the prices were in "England dollars".

So HA HA HAAAAA. You're stupid. I win.

(Man, my tolerance levels have just gone right down the tube since getting knocked up...)

Insert eye rolling here

Inevitably, there's now a (whole lot of) Christian bus ads to respond to the "atheist" (more agnostic, really) bus ads responding to the original, perhaps overly aggressive Christian bus ads.

Interesting to note that the Advertising Standards Authority had received hundreds of complaints that the (frankly rather sweet) "atheist" ad was "offensive to Christians" and, most puzzlingly, the "no God" claim could not be substantiated.

Hm. What was that slogan again exactly?


And people really thought they could argue with the "facts" of a fuzzy little statement like "probably no God"? But presumably these complainers have no objection to the Christian ads, eg "There is DEFINITELY a God, BELIEVE"? I suspect the ASA is in for quite a headache...

PS For a much more lovable Christian response, see here.

It... it... I...

I can't explain just why I find this so...

Um.

Well.

How to drive in London

It is of course easy enough to convert your foreign licence to a UK licence, and if you're coming from South Africa, where we also drive on the left, you might think you're all set. However, besides the rules of the road, every country and every region has its own driving etiquette. Driving in London requires understanding and adoption of its own particular set of habits. Thus:

1. London is a busy and overwhelming city. Drivers here are vulnerable to informational overload and a multitude of environmental stress factors. Be careful not to exacerbate this situation. Flashing lights will only distract other drivers, so avoid using your indicators. If you absolutely must, be sure to turn them on only as you are actually turning the corner - any earlier would be grossly inconsiderate.

2. Space in London is at a premium, on the streets as much as in the property market. Therefore, you should avail yourself of all possible parking opportunities. Leaving corners empty to improve visibility for approaching traffic is all very well in less bustling metropolises, but here it simply won't do. Don't just park up right to the end of the street - park on the corner itself. That's what it's there for.

3. This is a fast-paced city. Combine that with the aforementioned lack of parking space, and you know what you have to do: grab spots where you see them, when you see them. Should a bay be available on the opposite side of the road, don't waste time turning around - you'll lose your spot, and more embarrassingly, reveal yourself as an outsider. Just cross the road and park immediately. Don't worry about the fact that you'll have to pull out into oncoming traffic; this will simply add a much-needed fillip to an otherwise boring journey for the other drivers on the road.

A proposal

In the interests of honesty, transparency and the reduction of homicidal tendencies in the wider population, I propose that 90% of organisational websites should re-name their "contact us" section to "don't contact us, we're not listening". This should be a statutory requirement unless said organisation can demonstrate that the relevant page displays at least one and preferably both of the following:

1. An email address (preferably one which will reach actual human people, who have been trained in actually reading email and replying to the questions asked therein, not copy-pasting chunks of documents based on certain keywords that may be mentioned in the email, regardless of context)

2. A phone number for a line that includes, within the first menu level, an option for "speak to a human being". Emphatically NOT a number that takes you through approximately 7 layers of menu before spewing you back to level 1 if you haven't managed to fit your personal, unique (probably that unique, but not actually accommodated in The System) problem into one of the categories for which recorded responses can be given.

Any organisation found, say, to be using links like "email us" to generate a choice of automatic forms that do not in fact include an option for a general email should immediately lose its licence to operate menu-based phone systems and the like. Yes, a licence should be required.

Shiny!

New iMacs are fun. (Take THAT, technojinx.)

New iMacs from Santa are especially fun.

New iMacs that Santa not only delivered, but also set up in all the boring ways (installing software etc) are the best fun of all.

Mommy might be kissing Santa Claus quite a lot to properly express her appreciation.

(Oh, happy new year and that, everybody. I'm a little distracted right now. You know how it is.)