ONE MONTH

Dear M,

I wanted to write you a letter each month - a way of immortalising all the little moments and events that fill each day but are in danger of being lost or forgotten with the business of life, the passage of time, and my ever-worsening memory. However, your first month has come and gone, and for various reasons I never had the time to document a single word - although, they have been swimming in my head since, and now that things have calmed down a bit, I finally have time to write.

You are five and a half weeks old. You have spent about three of those weeks in hospital, which is about two and half more than I would have wished for the start of your life, but sometimes these things can't be helped. One thing you've taught me is optimism (and that's no small feat for your glass-half-empty mother!). Since you came along, I've learned to see the positive in things, and not to dwell too long on the negative. The fact that you, my bright light, exist makes it easy to do. The past month has not been smooth sailing though, and at times I realise that it's all been a lot more stressful and emotional than I really allowed myself to acknowledge at the time. I can't look at photos of you in intensive care without crying.

For all the unforeseen turmoil, there has been unbelievable joy - the highlight for me was just the other night, when you smiled for the first time. Given that your first smile managed to completely overshadow another milestone (the first time you slept through the night), I think you can understand how much it means to me to interact with you, to see you grow and develop as a new little person in this world. You have your own personality that has already emerged in full force - you are strong, stubborn, gregarious (always turning on the charm for company, so no one believes us when we say that you've spent the past hours screaming), alert, assertive. You love music and being waltzed in my arms. Other things you love include: bath time, car rides, walks in the pram, being outside, being around people, having your head stroked as you sleep. You have been breastfed in public and together with your dad, we've been out as far as Bronte and Marrickville, which for a newborn is pretty adventurous.

Inevitably, there are moments in every day when I feel utterly exhausted and depleted - these moments usually occur at 4am and/or after you've been unsettled and crying for long periods. But the happiness I feel with you here seems to cut through that in a way I hadn't anticipated and could never really have imagined before. I can't wait for the coming days, weeks, months, years with you.

Love,
Mum

THE UNDRUNK CUP OF TEA

So, dear readers, the babe came.

If I had to give an analogy for life with a newborn, it would be the undrunk cup of tea (followed closely by the unanswered texts, the eternal pile of washing, the milk-stained everything). Tea made at an interval of peace, when the video monitor showed baby to be fast asleep, the clock showed baby due to stay asleep for another hour or so (that's the rare optimist in me). Yet to be sure, the kettle boiling must be an alarm clock in babyland, for as soon as the water hits the mug, a scream is bound to be heard, and away from my beloved hot tea I must dash. Cut to hours later after a long bout of feeding and fussing and, on a good day, the baby is re-swaddled and placed down to (hopefully) sleep, before rinsing and repeating ad infinitum.

And as my tea sits cold and forlorn, with a smile I think of how I said aloud just two weeks ago with such blissful ignorance, "How am I possibly going to occupy my time when I'm on leave?"

The catch is (and I never would have believed it if I'd been told before), I've never been happier.

PACKING UP

Today is my last day at work (and by work I mean both paid employment and postgrad studies), for a year potentially...

Packing up my desk, I feel surprisingly emotional. While physically I am craving the time off - the opportunity to nap during the day, to have my heat pack handy, to not have to change out of my pyjamas - it's a different story emotionally. I enjoy having a daily routine, somewhere to go to (even if I have been getting in shamefully late these days). More than having somewhere to go is having people to see - I like that on any given day at work, I will interact with people, share an office with my colleagues, have people to discuss publications, research, blogs and personal stories with. It sure beats spending the day alone at home, and it helps that I genuinely like my colleagues.

What I will also miss is feeling like I have a purpose, something that has become more important to me since entering (step)motherhood. At home sometimes, it's so easy to become bogged down in domestic routine almost to the point where it starts to feel vaguely oppressive - and not because I have a partner who doesn't contribute his fair share, because this isn't the case. It's simply that some element of your individuality, a sense of command or equal footing - of reaping immediate, tangible rewards of your hard work - is lost among the chores and tending to of children who (despite being appreciative at their core) do not thank you for your efforts. At work, I feel as though my thoughts, my intellectual input, is sought and valued. The work I do is acknowledged and appreciated, and there are tangible rewards to my efforts. I feel like I am truly in my element as myself and not someone merely fulfilling a required role.

By no means do I mean to to imply that parenting is not fulfilling and rewarding in its own way. Neither do I mean to deride or belittle those who don't work or those who are stay-at-home parents, or suggest that one even needs work to have meaning in their lives - far from it. But for me personally, there is a certain sense of self-actualisation that I get from my work that is truly meaningful to me, as corny as that may be. It's this, along with the friendly faces in my office and along the corridors, that makes me a little misty-eyed looking at my bare desk today.

I like to think of it though as not the end of an era, but the end of a chapter - one that heralds the start of another chapter, and does not preclude a reappearance of this current chapter's contents later down the track.

NINE MONTHS

Things I have previously taken for granted and really miss:

• Being able to put my shoes on by myself
• Being able to cut my own toenails
• Sleeping on my back
• Not waking up twice a night to go to the bathroom
• Rolling over in bed in one smooth motion
• Wearing jeans and other non-maternity leggings attire
• Walking properly
• Drinking (what I wouldn't give for a cold cider in this glorious spring weather...)

Things I am enjoying about being 9 months pregnant:

• Having an excuse for guilt-free afternoon naps 
• Having a peculiar motivation to clean the house and do other previously dreaded domestic tasks (I think they call this "nesting")
• That the end is in sight!

THE JUGGLING ACT

Driven perhaps more by morbid curiosity to hear the vast array of responses, rather than a desire to find a definitive answer, I have read article after article addressing the (not-so) age-old question, How can women successfully juggle having a career and raising children? To be honest, I am getting tired of reading the same unhelpful content that goes along the lines of one of these options:

a) Women can have it all, they just need to reassess what "all" is and become comfortable with this new definition of "all". Through this, women should learn to accept the guilt they feel about doing an inadequate job either at home, at work, or both, as opposed to wider society making any changes or concerted efforts to reduce the need for these feelings of guilt (to me, not too dissimilar to the argument that if women don't want to be sexually harassed, they shouldn't dress inappropriately).

b) Women can't have it all, and it would be beneficial to them to stop pretending that they can.

c) In order to have it "all", you need to have enough disposable cash to be able to afford full-time childcare/a full-time nanny to help raise your children, or a supportive partner who is willing (and can afford) to stay at home to raise the children and tend to domestic chores. Not so feasible for anyone who isn't rolling in it, or doesn't have a partner (or one who can/will give up his/her career to become a stay-at-home parent).

d) Instead of trying to offer an answer, simply create a dialogue where women offer advice and insights from their personal experiences, which are usually along the lines of "There is no right time to start a family, so just go for it", and "It will be hard, but you will be so in love with and derive so much joy from your children that they will automatically become your priority at the end of the day".

Let me rephrase my earlier comment by saying I'm not fed up with women making an effort to try and discuss, reason and hypothesise about how we can reach some semblance of equality in achieving the career/home-life balance that men have been privilege to for decades. I think it's admirable and encouraging that women are creating dialogues about how things can be improved, or even if a solution isn't offered, at least the problem itself is being given air-time.

What bothers me is this attitude, like with so many other issues relating to gender equality, is that the burden of responsibility of change seems to always fall on women. We are the ones that must come to terms with these shortcomings, we are the ones that must resign ourselves to these facts, the sooner we do, and the sooner we stop fighting it - the happier we will be with what society offers us!

There is also commonly the token comment (I hate to say it, but usually from a man) who offers a "feminist" opinion that essentially states women need to stop "whinging" about this problem and, if it really is such a problem, they shouldn't try to have both kids and career in the first place. Basically, stop complaining and just pick one and be happy with that. Wow, what a great solution. Rather than trying to address the broader prejudices that make it challenging for women to have both, and making not just women but society (including, yes, men) accountable for these prejudices, let's place the burden on women to reign themselves in and shut the fuck up. How progressive!

Maybe the key is that answering this question will not suffice with words and verbal definitions of why or how there is difficulty in this balancing act. Maybe actual, practical change needs to come first, to facilitate the construction of an answer that doesn't involve a sacrifice of desires or resignation for women.

PREGNANCY PORN

I came across these a while ago but just rediscovered them. So awesome. Full post here.

MERCURY IN RETROGRADE

Things have been a bit chaotic around these parts lately. Little things going wrong day to day for no reason. Bigger things going wrong personally and in my close sphere, disastrous freakish things within days or even hours of each other. Mental states so foreign from those held previously have been creeping in, so insidiously and irrationally. Where a sense of calm had descended upon me about my upcoming birth and the baby, fear has now taken its place, and has compounded in ways that I haven't experienced with such intensity over the past eight months. I find the darkest thoughts about stillbirth and illness coming forth from the recesses of my mind against my will, against all rationality. I feel a simultaneous need to release all this emotional turmoil, and an inability to get any words out. While there have been many topics - mostly positive insights - stewing in my mind that I've been eager to share here, when it comes to writing, lately I have found myself unable to get anything out. It's as though I have been unknowingly jerked into some negative space and remain stuck there, despite my best efforts.

Funnily enough, at the height of all this strangeness, I came across a post about Mercury in retrograde (you can read it here). Basically, Mercury is the planet that controls thought and communication, and it is totally fucking that up at the moment. I don't know how much I even believe in astrology, but I thought it was still interesting even if you read about it from a place of skepticism.

I like the point made in the post about questioning what happens when bad shit happens when Mercury isn't in retrograde, when there are no planetary alignments or external factors to blame. Maybe these periods come and go for no discernible reason. Or maybe things will turn around after August 8. Either way, I guess at times like these it's best to bunker down and wait for the storm to pass.

MAKING FRIENDS

This morning I read an interesting article on how difficult it can be for people to make, and maintain, meaningful friendships once they enter their 30s.

Although not yet in my 30s, the sentiment of this article resonated with me, as Alex and I definitely struggled with this phenomenon after the 6 year old came into our care and started making friends at her new school. Neither of us have many friends who have children, and while I am lucky enough to have some of the most amazing and supportive friends you could ask for*, I couldn't help but wonder if I should start making friends with fellow parents, both for the sake of the 6 year old and for my sake - having people who I could relate to in terms of the lice treatments, discipline tactics, fun kids craft activities, and all the other little nuances that come with raising a child.

I don't know how earnestly I tried, to be honest. Luckily for us, the 6 year old's best friend has parents who are quite like-minded when it comes to their lifestyle and general philosophies - we can chat fairly easily about growing a vegetable garden and enjoying a child-free drunken wine night on the weekend. But, at the end of the day, I just wasn't able to relate on any meaningful level. The age gap doesn't help - try as I might to relate, I don't have the same thoughts, worries, life experience as someone approaching their 40s. Likewise, I'm sure they can see that I am of an entirely different generation, and still finding my feet with this whole parenting thing. Maybe the obstacle is more my inability to fully commit to making an effort. Either way, I came to realise that while it certainly helps to be able to relate to these people as friendly acquaintances, why do I need more than that? Perhaps, rather than trying to force friendships out of obligation or some perceived need, we should just let new ties form naturally - to whatever extent they happen to develop - and not try to push beyond that.


*At the end of the day, while my friends may be childless, we still relate to each other on a level that is irreplaceably meaningful, and I hope that these bonds will carry through well into and past our 30s.

CABIN FEVER

It's been a long time between drinks (both figuratively and literally) - I wish I could say I've been busy gallivanting across Europe, or anywhere outside my front door really. In reality I've been sick and housebound for the past five days, which is starting to take its toll. Theoretically, a week off at home sounds great, except for the fact that you are literally unable to do anything except curl up in the foetal position and curse the baby inside you for denying you access to the healing, glorious bounty that is cold and flu medication (which I use in moderation, just as a disclaimer). I can only imagine what it was like for the indisposed before the invention of penicillin - yes, perhaps not exactly a fair comparison, but the cabin fever has caused me to become a bit bonkers.

Perhaps due to my slightly delirious state, I found myself overcome by what they call in birthing class, "nesting". This occurs when a pregnant woman gets the sudden urge to prepare for the arrival of the baby, which I thought was a load of bull until I woke up one morning at 3am in a panic - We have no clothes for the baby! What if we don't get any in time and it has to go around just in nappies? Shit, we don't have any nappies. It can't go around naked because then I'll have to clean up its poo from the floor. We need baby wipes. Shit. And what about those cotton wool ball things? What about a play mat? What if the baby becomes dim-witted from lack of stimulation? Where am I going to put the baby when I'm alone and need to go to the toilet? etc etc etc. On second thought, I'm not sure if this is "nesting" or just regular crazy. And I wonder how much of all this a baby actually needs, as opposed to  what the parents need in order to make themselves feel prepared and mildly competent. I wonder if Einstein had a play mat or one of those high-contrast black and white mobiles.

Just to round off this strange mish-mash of thoughts, an insight from a friend who recently gave birth to her first child:
Obviously you expect it to be painful but honestly nothing in this world could ever prepare you for the pain, it's like nothing else... As for forgetting the pain instantly once you hold your baby, it's all bull! I still haven't forgotten!!

TWO DOWN, ONE TO GO

Today is the first day of my third trimester. I celebrated by having two lunches.

FRIDAY LOLS

Some valuable information for those with kids (courtesy of Doug)

AROUND HERE LATELY

• The 6 year old has learnt about Pinterest and has been keen to jump aboard (is that a pun?). Alas, to our dismay we discovered you need to be invited to join. Not by a friend, by the actual Pinterest dudes. Taking themselves a bit too seriously perhaps? In any case, we played along and have been awaiting acceptance with baited breath (I would like to say this just applies to the 6 year old, but I did feel the same longing to be accepted that one feels when waiting for a potential date to call, masked with the same feigned indifference of "I don't really care if I never hear from them again"). Finally tonight we received our official invitation, which delighted the 6 year old who has grand visions of pinning pictures of the "dream house". Back story: we have a running joke about one day being able to afford our "dream house". We all have slightly different ideas about details of the dream house (the 6 year old and I insist that the dream house must have a pool; Alex insists it must have at least one room dedicated to storing his bicycle collection), though we all agree that the dream house is, in essence, some kind of mansion that two of the three of us know we will never be able to afford. The other has already begun saving and has "30 or more monies" (30 individual coins, not dollars) in her piggy bank, which she believes is almost enough for a down payment. Bless.

• I have had recent doubts about what to do as far as a career goes. I am starting to realise that I went into my PhD with the aim to eventually become an academic, and never really entertained the thought of doing much else. Now, with the baby looming and my previous single lady freedom well and truly dead, I'm starting to question how realistic this goal is, especially considering recent funding cuts and increasing job competitiveness. Not really sure what to do post-baby. Perhaps I could get paid to blog??

• Speaking of which, I have discovered a fantastic "mummy blog" (apparently this is a phenomenon now?) of a woman who is much, much funnier than I could ever hope to be. Also, her life is a lot more interesting than mine. I'm struggling to produce even mildly entertaining material - there's only so many times one can write about weird pregnancy symptoms, and the 6 year old is shamefully well-behaved so not much material there.

• Along with wasting time reading aforementioned blog, I have been watching a lot of stuff on iview. My current faves are this and this (no judgement). There has also been a lot of Masterchef and Sailor Moon watching in the house, which is fine except for the fact that I often have a Katy Perry/Sailor Moon theme mash-up running through my head.

• We have YET ANOTHER head lice infestation. I've honestly lost count of how many times this has happened since the start of school this year. On the upside, we are now experts in lice treatment - I can name at least 3 different brands of lice shampoo (and which of those actually works), and we have the combing conditioned hair bit down to a fine art. We also have a nice collection of lice combs (5 and counting), which is going into the baby's dowry.

• I have been both excitedly awaiting and fearfully dreading the start of birthing classes (next week). Material to be covered in Class 1 includes: The 3 stages of labour (which was news to me, I always thought labour was just one long drawn-out process), when to come into hospital/what to bring, reason for induction, and role of the support person. Sounds like one of the more upbeat classes, as we have coming up in future weeks: postnatal depression, Sudden Infant Death Syndrome, vacuum and forceps use during labour, and post-birth contraception. We will be paying particular attention to the last one.

AFTERNOON EYE CANDY

SLEEPLESS NIGHTS

I would kill for a decent night's sleep. For a few weeks now, I've been waking up every three hours or so in the night, and feel wide awake. It takes a while to fall asleep again, and the sleep is never very deep because I'm constantly rolling from side to side (the roll is more like a three-point turn these days) trying to get comfortable, or trying to get the baby to stop kicking me or lying on my bladder. I feel like a wreck. I am barely cognisant most days. I feel down, I have burst into tears at the slightest emotional provocation - the other night I cried for half an hour after seeing the delivery of a premature baby on Offspring (a fictional show). It's like all the PMS I've missed from the past six months has finally caught up with me. If I read one more cheesy line about how the upshot to all this is At least you'll be prepared for when the baby comes!, I might vomit.

I'm sorry to whinge. I am keenly aware that in pregnancy, if you and the baby are both healthy and everything is going along according to plan, there is little worth complaining about. In the spirit of being honest though, I think it's important to document the vast range of experiences, not just the good ones. I don't take my or my baby's health for granted. I'm just tired.

IS BREAST BEST?

A fantastic documentary on breastfeeding - it gives an honest portrayal of the struggles women can face, while presenting both sides of the "Is breast best?" debate equally and without judgement. Cherry Healey is awesome.

For those who are interested, you can watch it here:
http://www.abc.net.au/iview/#/view/843481

ONE BORN EVERY MINUTE, OR HOW I AM ATTEMPTING TO OVERCOME MY FEAR OF LABOUR

Is it just me who thinks this is slightly terrifying?

I have to admit, I have a rather significant fear of childbirth. I wouldn't say it quite makes it into phobia territory, but it comes close. This coupled with my lack of appreciation (okay, minor repulsion) towards newborns does not inspire much confidence in me for my inevitable labour. Why am I having a baby in the first place if it's all so unappealing? you may wonder. I often wonder the same thing. I do comfort myself with the knowledge that almost every woman I've spoken to who has had a baby has admitted some fear of or aversion to childbirth. Many of them went back for seconds or thirds though, so surely that must mean something.

I read somewhere that a good way of preparing yourself for labour is to force yourself to watch a video of a child being born, especially if you haven't already seen one. I thought I was home free and clear with this one, as I have already seen episodes of the TV series One Born Every Minute. That is, until I realised that I had never actually sat through an entire episode and, more crucially, had never been brave enough to keep watching as the baby was being born. I always conveniently had to "go to the bathroom" or "get a snack" or "wash my hair" whenever anything remotely confronting came on (pretty much every scene from about halfway through).

So, given I'll have to watch a childbirth video in my birthing class anyway, I figured I may as well bite the bullet and force myself to watch one in the comfort of my own home.

HAPPY FRIDAY!

Too sweet not to post.

Hope everyone is enjoying the sunshine and looking forward to the long weekend! I'm having drinks (or at least, will be present where drinks are being had) with a dear friend to celebrate his birthday, and will also be seeing a couple of films from the Sydney Film Festival. That's about as exciting as my weekends come these days!

BATH PORN

So I'm at work sitting in a blood-stained shirt like a chump because I had a crazy heavy nosebleed earlier (another lovely symptom of pregnancy!), feeling generally gross and unglamorous.

So I have been cheering myself up by daydreaming about baths. Yes, baths. I don't have one at home and I often catch myself fantasising about stepping into a warm bath at the end of the day (what can I say, I'm easily satisfied).

THINGS I HAVE DISCOVERED DURING PREGNANCY

Would've been nice if somebody had told me this sooner.

1. Growing a baby is really fucking exhausting. I know all the books say it, and I guess it's fairly obvious, but I was still amazed by the sheer extent to which I felt tired. It's been unlike any other tiredness I've experienced. I'm a light sleeper and before baby, I can't remember the last time I slept through the night. But now, I will happily fall asleep at 8pm and be out cold until 10 or 11am the next day. And still feel tired.

2. With pregnancy and having a baby comes the onslaught of unwanted advice (from anyone and everyone, often people who have absolutely no experience on the topic) and strange/inappropriate comments. I have been told that the age gap between the baby and my 6 year old stepdaughter will be too great for them to have any hope of ever getting along. I have been forbidden from taking Panadol ("I think it's best if you don't risk it, don't you?") by someone is not a doctor and who has never had children, and despite the fact that Panadol is actually safe to take during pregnancy. I get questioned about my various bodily functions and shamed over my daily coffee intake. I even had someone ask me, in all seriousness, one Saturday night when I was out at a pub, "Shouldn't you be at home taking prenatal vitamins?".

3. Baby shit is crazy expensive. And there is no single definitive item that is exactly what you need - for example, there's no "best" pram, rather there's a million different types that are all similar but vary slightly and all have something not quite right with them. Why can't they just make one pram that has everything?

4. I realise I had (have?) a slight alcohol dependency. I wouldn't go so far as to use the word addiction, but not being able to drink has made it quite clear that I definitely drank as a sort of coping mechanism a lot of the time. Also several people have told me they assumed I must be pregnant when I stopped drinking, because why else would I not be drinking? Hm, feeling a bit like a degenerate now...

5. Prolapse. I miss being blissfully ignorant.

6. A bunch of other pregnancy-related terms/products/phenomena: doulas, muslin wraps, fundal height, mastitis, colostrum. Also a lot of scary pregnancy-related medical shit: your abdominal muscles can separate, it's common to get nosebleeds and sciatica during pregnancy, one in three women who have ever had a baby wet themselves, you can tear all the way through during childbirth. ALL THE WAY THROUGH.

7. You don't magically feel "like a mother" or a "fertile goddess" just because you're pregnant. At least I don't. You just feel like yourself, but with this weird difference that mostly feels like a strange medical condition, with the occasional lucid realisation of Fuck, there is an actual real living baby inside me that will one day come out into the world and want to borrow my car.

8. Despite all the bad stuff that comes with pregnancy, it is actually a pretty wonderful experience that makes you feel like you have this special secret (even when it's no longer a secret) that's just between you and the little kicking thing inside you.

FRIVOLOUS INDULGENCE

On a more lighthearted note, I totally have my eye on this:

Surely I will need at least one nice one-piece swimsuit for post-baby summer times?

ON BECOMING A YOUNG MUM

The first question I'm usually asked after someone finds out that I'm pregnant is, Was it planned? Although the way it's asked is often more like, It wasn't planned, was it? Most people I've told find it surprising that people could be so forward and, well, rude. In all honesty, I find it amusing more than anything. Was it planned? Hell no. I'm surprised people have to ask.

I never thought I would be a mother in my twenties. It's not that I didn't ever want children, but suffice it to say I rather enjoyed heavy drinking and sleeping till midday. Also for those who are wondering (and for those who have asked me, as a follow-up to the planned question), I'm certainly not pro-life and would have had no moral objection to not going through with an unplanned bump in the road... Though to my surprise, despite this, this was not the option that ended up feeling like the right one for me this time. And so here we are.

Certainly there are many positives about being a young mum. Having the energy and enthusiasm of youth is the first thing that comes to mind, not to mention a youthful body that will (hopefully) bounce back from the physical onslaught of pregnancy and childbirth without as much trouble as it may a few years later. There are times though at the end of the day, after having done my best not to fall asleep at my work desk then crawling home to do the nightly domestic chores, when I look at the clock, see that it's 9pm and surprise myself because surely it must be midnight - I am exhausted. And I wonder, if I feel this tired with all my supposed energy and enthusiasm of youth, how do other women do it? How will I do it as I inevitably get older?

I do worry a fair bit about money and, in only a vaguely related way, about my career - the latter has been a far greater source of anxiety than I had predicted in the early days of my pregnancy. After years of understanding the glass ceiling and the continued prejudice against women at an intellectual level, I finally understand this at a very practical level. The subtleties and nuances of discrimination that I have faced have astounded me. They have not come from a place of outright malice, but I see that where I was once highly respected among my coworkers and (arguably more importantly) among my superiors, I am now preemptively turned down on working on meaningful projects, I am not given due credit for tasks that I have worked on, I have been written off as though I have already gone on leave. I worry about being bumped off the ferris wheel of working life, and wonder how I will be able to get back on post-baby. Would I still worry if I were five or ten years older and already had an established career? Almost definitely yes, and maybe even to a greater extent.

For me, the one thing that I do come back to when I despair about potentially losing the "best years of my life" on child-rearing is that when my children grow up, I will still be young enough to relate to them in their young adulthood. I will hopefully not be too out of touch, and I hope that they will not feel a great generational divide as I did with my parents. And, maybe, I can reinvent my forties and fifties as the "best years of my life".

PREAMBLE

Hello. After a long stint of teenage angst blogging (okay, there was some early 20s angst blogging too), I swore off blogs as, for the most part, a bit of a self-indulgent wank. Not sure that I've entirely changed my mind, but I have discovered myself spending a fair bit of time thinking about, discussing and generally becoming adjusted to this whole having-a-baby thing. It seems maybe an outlet for these musings that's not my partner/mother/friends/co-workers/any living person who would rather not be regaled with yet another story would be beneficial for everyone involved. Also some nice peeps have encouraged me to start this, and god knows I don't need much of an excuse for finding another means of procrastination. So here goes. Enjoy.