The Love That Dare Speak Its Name!

Well, the disgraceful, repugnant and thoroughly hateful plebiscite is now in full swing and what a most pleasant time is being had by for all. As predicted, a full-scale smear campaign is in effect, where the YES camp have been portrayed as aggressive bullies who won’t be happy until every man, woman and child has been indoctrinated into an unnatural way of life. Naturally, this has led to further hysterics by those on the far right and trickled down into increased violence against those supporting marriage equality.

To be honest, I’m fucking sick of it! I’m sick of reading about the latest lies from the NO side. I’m sick of fighting for something that shouldn’t even be an issue in our modern age. I’m sick of being told that we must be grateful for whatever legislative scraps the government deigns to give us. I’m sick of having to explain to my European friends why Australia is so backward on this issue. I’m sick of hearing ridiculous arguments about how marriage equality will be the end of civilization, as we know it.  People are going to be forbidden to use the terms ‘mum’ and ‘dad’ – really, Pauline? What fucking planet are you living on??? The only thing happening in countries where it’s been legalised, is that more people are getting married and the religious zealots are far less content.

Parental Guidance Recommended.

Dear Gods, when will it stop! Why does it have to be so damn complicated?

In the lead-up to one of the most life-changing events that we’ve yet to experience – namely the birth of our first child – my husband and I are in very real danger of disappearing under an avalanche of advice. Honestly, it seems that everywhere we turn we are bombarded with words of wisdom that are often contradictory with the previous lot and it’s all become a little overwhelming.

In fairness, we are partly to blame for our current situation – we did decide to be parents, after all. And yes, we contributed further by reading parenting books and speaking with our own parents, siblings and peers who’ve already been through the process. Unsurprisingly, this has been helpful and frightening in equal measure.

Adding to our information overload, there has also been a great deal of unsolicited advice. Granted, it’s all very well meaning, but there has been rather a few times where I’ve nearly strained a muscle trying to stop my eyes from rolling back in my head and barely resisted the urge to simply shake them until they stop speaking.

The Wrath of the Travel Gods.

As I sit in yet another airport, not so patiently waiting for yet another delayed flight, I am once again compelled to ask – what on earth have we done to piss off the travel gods? You may remember that barely a week ago I was complaining about the very same thing and a few weeks before that…and a little before that as well. This time round, we don’t even have the civilised option of sipping champagne in the comfortable surrounds of the Air France lounge, as it was overcrowded due to all the delayed flights and even the staff recommended we’d be better off outside. Frankly, I’m seriously beginning to believe we’ve cursed! It’s all I can do to stop myself from falling to my knees and screaming – ‘why gods why?’

Granted, I’m far from a patient man and today is only a postponement of a few hours – rather than the tortuously long Barcelona ordeal – but it is thoroughly aggravating nevertheless. Of course, we’ve experienced issues whilst travelling before – late transports, misplaced luggage and such – but not consistently for every single time we take leave of Paris. It’s been going on for months now! Our woes aren’t even restricted to planes, as trains and buses are also seemingly a part of this grand conspiracy. It’s gotten so bad that I find myself getting pre-emptively angry as we walk out the door with our bags in tow.

Paris is burning…

Words can barely describe the depth of the rage I feel at the atrocities that were committed in my adopted city last Friday night. Granted, it is far from the only feeling pounding in my heart; with shock and sadness also both present in equal measure. It is the anger, however, which is fuelling a burning hatred within me that I desperately want to extinguish.

In my darker moments it isn’t enough that the majority of the perpetrators were killed during the attacks but I also want those who were captured to be hurt in kind. In fact, I want them to be tortured until they are begging for death and then some. I truly don’t want to be having such disturbing thoughts. Not only are they so far removed from the person I believe myself to be, but I know full well that if I give in to these troubling urges and let myself get caught up in an anti-Islamic mob mentality, then the terrorists have accomplished what they set out to do.

Unsurprisingly, there have been many people politicising the events for their own agenda, playing upon people’s heightened sense of fear and loss of security. This only serves to anger me further and does nothing to help with the ever-growing problem of intolerance and separatist ideology. Thankfully, I haven’t been so blinded by my fury as to foolishly blame all Muslims or refugees for the heinous acts of a few.

The Little Bureaucrat That Couldn’t…Part 2

Welcome back to my light-hearted series on how I’d like to burn down the bureaucracy in one lovely big cleansing fire. But I jest…maybe.

Last week, gentle readers, we were examining my dealings with the Polish bureaucracy. Today we turn things homeward as I detail my frustrating adventures in compiling all the necessary documentation for my marriage.

The first thing I had to get was a single status certificate to prove I wasn’t already married. A simple enough request one would imagine. Surely, I thought, it’s just a matter of typing my name into a computer system to see if any marriages pop up, but no. For some unfathomable reason they are only able to check in ten year blocks, with added fees for additional years. Sadly, seeing I am more than ten years above the marriageable age I had to pay for multiple searches.

Time to kill…

We all know those rather selfless souls that always have time for everybody and are obliging to a fault. Not that I pretend to be one of these wonderful creatures, of course, but they are truly a delight to come across. Sadly, they are in quite limited supply and leave one to deal with those who tend towards being much more self-involved. I am speaking of that most annoying of individuals  – the timewasting tosser.

I am well aware that people are busy and have important things to do with their time. What infuriates me is when people seem to think that my time doesn’t merit thinking about. They somehow have the idea that I am far less important than they are and deserve to be treated as such. It is disrespectful and thoughtless behaviour. The times I’ve wanted to slap my computer screen out of pure frustration at yet another empty promise or unanswered message is staggering.