So anyway…

(Note: Bit on the rude side; sensitive viewers might want to avoid this one)

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There’s a “news item” currently going around about Japanese being scammed by being sold sheep as poodles:
Here are some of the news items:
http://www.theage.com.au/articles/2007/04/27/1177459933458.html
http://www.theregister.co.uk/2007/04/26/ovine_poodle_scam/
http://www.smh.com.au/news/World/Japanese-fooled-in-poodle-scam/
http://news.ninemsn.com.au/article.aspx?id=263297
And then, a bit more research. Here’s someone very soundly debunking it:
http://www.souzouzone.jp/blog/2007/04/media_flock_to.php
And finally, I went to the motherload of all debunking sites:
http://www.snopes.com/critters/lurkers/poodlesheep.asp
As noted on the TV3 New Zealand News site (with video):
Hoax news story does the rounds worldwide
So, yeah, it looks like it’s not true. But I find it both hilarious and disturbing that all those “serious” news media picked up the story and ran with it. I wonder if they’ll print a retraction when they find out it was all just an urban legend… ?

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I have a new gadget, an MP3 player. It’s a cheap one, made in China, but it does what I want it to, so that’s okay. The instruction manual is …. interesting. It’s auto-translated and some of the translations are nearly impossible to understand, while others are bizarre. For example, it can pick up FM radio and it has an automatic manhunt to find stations. Yes, that’s what it says. An automatic MANHUNT. Now why on earth the translation software chose to say “manhunt” when it ought to be “search” I cannot imagine, but that’s what it has…
Fortunately, Andrew is better at figuring out auto-translated Chinese technical babble than I am, and he worked out how to put stuff on and delete things and so forth. Yay. I owe him bigtime for that.
I’m mostly using the MP3 player to look cool and look like I belong in the 21st century. No, wait. That’s not it. I’m using it mostly for brainwave entrainment, actually. I export the session as a .wav, convert to .mp3, put it on the player, and then I can go and lie down and listen to it that way. Works well for stuff that’s meant to make you sleepy, for example (though I can’t really fall asleep with the ear buds in, ouch; I can, however, get suitably rested and get the other stuff I want to accomplish, such as the sub-delta brainwaves for the chronic pain/fibromyaglia).
So, yeah. Good stuff. An MP3 player with automatic manhunt. If I ever need to hunt a man on FM radio, I’ll be all set…

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My husband has the body of a god…. Buddha.

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Looking at the five images that Edwin Zwakman has contributed to a new exhibition, Tales From the Grid, at the Q Gallery in Derby, you

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I took Miranda to the dentist on Tuesday (we had a fun day out, rode the train, ate lunch, poked around in shops, etc., and her teeth are in great shape), and after lunch I bought a pack of sugar-free gum to help her clean her teeth (so the dentist would have to pick bits of rice out of her teeth, basically; the dentist is in Box Hill, which has a very big Chinese population, so we had Chinese food for lunch).
I checked the package for the standard phenylalanine warning, and didn’t see it, so I had some. In fact, I had a few pieces over the course of a couple of days. Nice gum… but I started feeling worse, physically. Foggy-brain, high fatigue, pain level rose, and last night I got an absolutely killer headache, of which I still have some lingering reminder.
Found out that Extra (the gum) is full of phenylalaine (aspartame). *sigh* I can’t have that. I don’t metabolise it properly or something, and it makes Fibromyagia symptoms worse for whatever reason (I don’t think many people have researched why it does, but it’s documented in a few studies that there’s definitely a link). I cut out phenylalanine a couple years ago and have never looked back, and I avoid the stuff entirely now (I use Splenda in my tea or coffee, since it’s made from actual sugar).
Except that on Tuesday I bought a big pack of gum and was happily chewing it a few times a day for several days. D’oh.
The effects are wearing off now, thankfully, but I still feel pretty crappy. And if I’d had any doubts that phenylalanine is bad for me, I no longer do. Ugh.
Please note: I am in no way claiming that all people will or do have a problem with the stuff. I do, as do many other people with Fibromyalgia and some other disorders (most notably, Phenylketonuria). Just thought I’d better put that in, just in case.

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Wikisimpsons, a wiki-style collection of Simpsons information. Don’t have a cow, man!

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Pretty tired today (as in “chronic fatigue” tired, although I’m “ordinary” tired, as well). I got up, got dressed, ran a brush through my hair, got Miranda sorted out for school (snack, lunch order, etc.), and then took her to school. Prior to leaving, I sat and thought, and even said out loud, “Okay, do we have everything?” and it seemed we did. Being tired, I wasn’t quite thinking clearly, though…

We went on the approximately ten minute walk there, I had a rest while waiting for school to start, she went in, I walked home. On the way I was feeling pretty good, just thinking what a pretty day it is and how lovely the cool breeze felt, etc. And then, as I started up the actual front path to our house I realised…. I haven’t got my keys….

In the not-so-distant past, that would have caused an immediate panic attack, but I kept it together (yay!). I walked around the house for a bit trying to see if there was a way in (I couldn’t find one). Tried all the doors, all locked. Looked for the emergency key, couldn’t find it. Finally, after about twenty minutes, some prayer/thought, a couple of rests to think about it, I thought I’d better go next door and use their phone and call a locksmith. I did think of calling Andrew, but he’s in the city and it’s about an hours’ ride on the train from there and it just seemed like not the best plan.

Anyway, our next door neighbor, Chris, is a police officer (and his wife is a school teacher, but she’s on maternity leave with a new baby) . Really good bloke, I like him a lot. We don’t really socialise with them, but we’re on quite neighborly terms with them, and I knew they wouldn’t begrudge me a phone call and maybe a cup of tea.

So I knocked and Chris came to the door and I said, “I hate to bother you, but I’m locked out of the house…” and he said, quick as you please, “Oh, d’you want me to come and see if I can get in?” So I said “Yes, that’d be great, if you could!”

Took less than five minutes for him to find a way in, and less than five minutes for him to GET in. The windows in this house are… well, let’s just say whoever designed them was an idiot. They’re drafty (draughty?) in the winter and they’re pretty insecure. Just how insecure I didn’t know until I watched Chris break in!

Anyway, he got in a window and came round the front door to let me in, for which I thanked him profousely and kissed him on the cheek. He was away from his house for no more than fifteen minutes (closer to ten), I got inside, and all is well. Andrew’s getting a new emergency key cut today.

The thing that is really staying with me on this is that I didn’t panic or even get especially upset. I was a bit frustrated and annoyed with myself, and slightly concerned that I might have to have a wee in the back yard, but I just sort of knew that there would be a reasonable answer to the problem if I just stayed calm and found it, and so there was.

So, that’s my adventure for the morning. I think I might go back to bed now…

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There’s been a lot of talk with the current government (that’s John Howard & Co., don’t get me started) of making new immigrants take an “Australian Values” test. Now, I can see requiring, say, a requirement for minimal English competence (necessary in many workplaces, for example), but other than that…
Well, there has been a lot of counter-talk as to what, precisely, these “Australian Values” might actually be. This is an extremely diverse and multi-cultural society. What “values” are these that we’re going to test potential new citizens on?
Values Australia attempts to answer that question in classic Australian style: by taking the piss.

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