I sure hope that good~mapidemic

Heh. This makes me think there should be a Buffista take on the Verizon take on the iPhone commercials. "Worried about scary hospital tests? There's a ~map for that."

I just got the general notion that if someone doesn't love another romantically speaking, it considered to be a case of lack of respect. WTF? Love does not equal respect.

Oh! See, my reading is very different. This:

I'm so in love with you/ I'll be forever blue/ What religion or reason/ Could drive a man to forsake his lover?

makes me read the whole song as being about someone who has dumped him/is still in the closet and denying the relationship, rather than being about wooing someone. So there's a definite lack of respect involved.

(That aside - you're quite right that love, or indeed sex, doesn't equate to respect. I've generally assumed that in the Otis Redding version of R.E.S.P.E.C.T. 'respect' was being used at least in part as a euphemism for sex, making the Aretha version that much more of a reversal - anyone else got any thoughts on that one?)

Cindy, lots of it's-really-nothing-serious~ma for you this morning!

Hee. ~mapidemic took me a moment of thinking, "That doesn't sound like any other transliterated Hebrew word I've ever read." Thanks, Shir. I'm just jumpy. Also, I have residual excitement. The only other times I've ever had an ultrasound, it's been to get baby spoilers, you know? So I keep thinking, "Whee, ultrasound!" And then, "Oh yeah, no, no whee here."

Thanks, everyone.

Cindy, I hope the test results are favourable.

This makes me think there should be a Buffista take on the Verizon take on the iPhone commercials. "Worried about scary hospital tests? There's a ~map for that."

I do not know Verizon nor iPhone commercials apart what's been posted here. It's lost on me. Sorry.

(That aside - you're quite right that love, or indeed sex, doesn't equate to respect. I've generally assumed that in the Otis Redding version of R.E.S.P.E.C.T. 'respect' was being used at least in part as a euphemism for sex, making the Aretha version that much more of a reversal - anyone else got any thoughts on that one?)

That sounds about right, Fay.

'm just jumpy. Also, I have residual excitement. The only other times I've ever had an ultrasound, it's been to get baby spoilers, you know? So I keep thinking, "Whee, ultrasound!" And then, "Oh yeah, no, no whee here."

It all sounds very reasonable, Cindy. Again, a lot of ~ma, and I hope you'll be able to relax soon.

OK, I just reported an incident to the police. I don't know if it qualifies as a crime or disablism or whatever, or not, but it felt like disablist abuse.

I was parking my car opposite my building about half an hour ago. There's a restricted parking area there where I'm allowed to park for up to three hours, with my disabled permit. There's a cycle path there, but it's a very quiet road and the assumption is that cyclists will just move out slightly to pass my parked car. I've been told by traffic wardens at least once that it's completely legal for me to park there. I usually have no other choice, as this is a busy shopping area and it often takes a few hours for there to be a space free in the unrestricted residents' parking bays on the other side of the road.

Today, when I signalled and slowly pulled up at the kerb, I passed a man who was walking up the hill. I can only assume that I pissed him off by cutting him off where he wanted to cross the road. As he crossed over in front of me, he gestured aggressively, shouted (mainly inaudibly to me) through my window, and started taking pictures of my car.

I should have let it go, I know, but (what with the wheelchair) I get so much of this kind of abuse that I get sick of it, so I didn't. I stuck my head out of my window and asked him to talk directly to me instead of making obscene gestures. He refused. I pointed out that I was parking in a legal place, as a disabled driver with a valid permit. He yelled something about "fucking disabled.... nonsense..." that I mostly couldn't follow. I said again that I'm disabled, this is a legal place for me to park, and that his aggressive behaviour was not acceptable. He screamed that I was going to kill disabled cyclists (I don't even know what he was talking about), that I'd parked irresponsibly, more incoherent nonsense. I gave up and got back in my car, at which point The Girl phoned, and encouraged me to report this behaviour. I didn't know if I wanted to, on account of not being sure if this was even illegal behaviour. But I know so many disabled people who don't report the borderline-disablist or clearly-disablist incidents/crime that they face every day, and I'm done with that. As the woman at the police station said, the fact I'm disabled or have parking privileges is no reason for me to face abuse, verbally or otherwise.

There's so much of this about in London. People are generally very polite, pleasant and helpful to me - but as soon as they think I'm getting some perk that they're not, they can get unbelievably aggressive. With hate crime against disabled people on the rise, this kind of thing makes me want to stop leaving the house.

There we go. Now I've restored the mememememe balance in my posts. It was missing this morning.

Now I need a very large cup of tea, a good sit down, some food involving sugar, and some TV involving Eliza Dushku, I think.

Cindy, sending lots of ~ma and hopes that it's nothing serious.

Seska, have you ever read PhD-Piled High and Deeper? It's all about navigating dissertation and other fun grad school stuff.

Hee. That's fun. I am Tajel.

Edited three times, because nerves make my dyslexia go loopy.

ETA: Five times.

My thoughts and prayers are with you, Cindy.

Congrats, Jilli! Yay for the Empire recognizing your talents once again.

Congrats, Erin! Exciting news on the house. Many wishes that the bad stuff resolves in a positive direction.

P-C, DH and I had almost nothing in common on a surface level when we met. Except we grade competed against each other in college, and the chemistry thing. 11 years apart in age. He a military brat raised around the world; I lived in the same house from birth to leaving home. Totally different music and tv tastes. Now over 20 years later I know about rebounds and assists and he knows jazz and vampires. We look for things we can enjoy together and give each other space to pursue individual interests. It has more to do with enjoying and respecting the person than whether they like olives or comic books. Personally, I have known right away whether I clicked with a person. I hope that you find a clicky person that finds you clicky.

Also, I have never had a blind date. I can't imagine how awkward it must be.

Fay, wow. What an assortment of emotions to experience in one setting.

{{Nora}} Health ~ma and Brain ~ma and all kinds of wishes for things going well this weekend.

And now to find coffee...

(((Cindy)))

...okay, reason #392 I shall continue to avoid opening my mother's 'amusing' forwarded emails: I never, ever want to open an email from her that purports to be about the effects of Swine Flu, and find it's a pornographic shot of a girl hunkering on all fours on a bed, who's been photomanipped to have a pig's snout and ears, and several additional breasts. With big, erect, perky nipples. And a curly tail sticking out of her ass where her knickers are hiked down.

tries to bleach brain

considers sending mother link to goatse by way of vengeance, just to underline that let's-not-share-pornographic-images-with-our-offspring notion

cannot bring self to do so, as likes mother

searches harder for brain bleach

eta

To clarify: the image wasn't particularly shocking or offensive (hey, I write gay vampire snuff porn), but...it was photomanipped porn. I really don't want my mum to send me porn. I'm happy that she has an active sex life with my dad, yay her, I just - really, I'm good with not giving her links to my porn, & not having her send me amusing pictures of naked...er...actually, what DO you call the pig equivalent of a furry? 'Cause furry she wasn't.

Amusing emails from my mother: rarely amusing, as it turns out, but this was a new one on me.

For the second time today, I say, "Whoa, Fay."

I am suddenly relieved I only get sassy "you go girl"-esque cheesy emails from my mom.