I have been known to get a little obsessive over things. Once started, it can be extremely difficult to distract me from an activity. My Facebook page is one known addiction, cleaning a particular item or tidying someone else's house are others (Aspy much?!...And I'm so much better than I was!)...puzzle books...a good novel also qualify.
As does doing jigsaw puzzles.
Jigsaw puzzles are one of the world's little enigmas aren't they. They surely must have come about by accident when some demented little git decided to chop up a picture of his Mrs of something. Then some other anal-retentive little twazzock got his thrills from sticking it all back together again.
Ok, I'm full of it...according to http://www.mgcpuzzles.com/mgcpuzzles/puzzle_history/ they started in the 1760's with maps getting chopped up as educational toys...adult ones kicked in around 1908. Apparently they created quite the stir....obsession even...I can relate.
Now I don't use the term obsession lightly here; I have been known to knock out a 1000 piece scenic jigsaw puzzle in under two days (including meals and sleeping) and did the first 550pc "World's Most Difficult Jigsaw Puzzle" (The 'Buffalo Games" one with buffalo in various sporting poses on an all blue background) in under 8 hours, including lunch,....when I was 11.
As a result of the latter I have always snorted heartily at the "World's Most Difficult" part. Just coz they stuck the same picture on the other side turned 90 degrees doesn't really add much challenge...you just do all the easy bits twice then once you find which bit fits the body of your puzzle, you turn the other one over. It's not rocket science. To be honest, those edgeless ones with the five extra pieces put up more of a struggle.
The ones of all dice or jelly beans or some other such mundane object tend to pose a bit more entertainment, however...but I doubt they would qualify as "world's most difficult" either.
I think I know which one has that covered.
Back when I was a pup I saw something on TV about the "Purple Dread": a 5000 piece puzzle that was entirely purple. Now I ask you...what miserable, mongrel-gutted swine would think up something like that!
I have no idea....but I think I found his/her kid....
http://www.pizmogames.com/games/load.php?g=hardestjigsaw
I'll see you three years next Thursday.
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Thursday 12 April 2012
Monday 9 April 2012
Tales from Who(re)ville...
A few days ago, "The Musings Of A Tigress" Facebook page hit 3000 likes.
Now I'm not gonna deny it...I'm jolly happy about this, and it thrills me no end that people appear to be coming toward my somewhat random collection of thoughts and humour versus running away from it. And it's always heartening to think that you bring a smile, a chuckle, or maybe even a laugh...to another's world. I never cease to be honoured by all the wonderful comments and shares I receive in a given day.
But I do feel I must watch myself; one doesn't want to be seen as getting caught up in one's own celebrity now does one. And rightly so....I'm a page owner on Facebook, not Kate bloody Middleton!
It's hard though, not to focus on such things when one is crawling up the posterior of a certain 'like' total (for example 3000). Now my rational side (which I like to think is quite large) says just relax, it's no big deal, really, it'll happen in its own time. It reminds me that a page admin should always demonstrate gratitude for the followers they have, and serve first and foremost to entertain them with their output...not build up symbols of popularity akin to a boy-band's album sales.
But all this rationality seems powerless to stop me from occasionally turning into an absolute 'likes' WHORE!
It's the number you see! I mean I was fine at about 2800ish...just cruisin' along...nothing urgent...and then it ticked over to 2900...
2900...
As in 100 off 3000....nice big fat round 3000
And this is where the tics start to turn up. I make a coffee, occupy the offspring and develop a 'focused' look previously only elicited from hammering at the final level of Zuma.
And it's also about now that the admins of other pages start to get the hint that the Tigress has donned her fishnets.We pages can also like each other you see and have our own newsfeeds upon which my posting, hinting and downright grovelling starts to turn up en masse. And I'm always awed at this point by how tolerant and helpful these folk are during my times of....lunatic intensity. I'm not sure if they help me out because they really love my stuff or simply because I look ridiculous in a mini skirt and they are trying to clean up the neighbourhood.
Either way it works very well, and once I skip over the relevant milestone, I miraculously become once again the sedate(ish) stripy individual that you all know and love.
And to be honest, no one is more relieved about this than me...I mean it's quite intense and exhausting all that promoting and posting and gifting and such.
And seriously, stilettos are a bitch to walk in!
Now I'm not gonna deny it...I'm jolly happy about this, and it thrills me no end that people appear to be coming toward my somewhat random collection of thoughts and humour versus running away from it. And it's always heartening to think that you bring a smile, a chuckle, or maybe even a laugh...to another's world. I never cease to be honoured by all the wonderful comments and shares I receive in a given day.
But I do feel I must watch myself; one doesn't want to be seen as getting caught up in one's own celebrity now does one. And rightly so....I'm a page owner on Facebook, not Kate bloody Middleton!
It's hard though, not to focus on such things when one is crawling up the posterior of a certain 'like' total (for example 3000). Now my rational side (which I like to think is quite large) says just relax, it's no big deal, really, it'll happen in its own time. It reminds me that a page admin should always demonstrate gratitude for the followers they have, and serve first and foremost to entertain them with their output...not build up symbols of popularity akin to a boy-band's album sales.
But all this rationality seems powerless to stop me from occasionally turning into an absolute 'likes' WHORE!
It's the number you see! I mean I was fine at about 2800ish...just cruisin' along...nothing urgent...and then it ticked over to 2900...
2900...
As in 100 off 3000....nice big fat round 3000
And this is where the tics start to turn up. I make a coffee, occupy the offspring and develop a 'focused' look previously only elicited from hammering at the final level of Zuma.
And it's also about now that the admins of other pages start to get the hint that the Tigress has donned her fishnets.We pages can also like each other you see and have our own newsfeeds upon which my posting, hinting and downright grovelling starts to turn up en masse. And I'm always awed at this point by how tolerant and helpful these folk are during my times of....lunatic intensity. I'm not sure if they help me out because they really love my stuff or simply because I look ridiculous in a mini skirt and they are trying to clean up the neighbourhood.
Either way it works very well, and once I skip over the relevant milestone, I miraculously become once again the sedate(ish) stripy individual that you all know and love.
And to be honest, no one is more relieved about this than me...I mean it's quite intense and exhausting all that promoting and posting and gifting and such.
And seriously, stilettos are a bitch to walk in!
Saturday 7 April 2012
Bite me....
I am generally not one to dwell on my medical situations as there is no real point, but occasionally it humours me to share the latest antics of my body. We converse frequently, my body and I, and sometimes harsh words are spoken....but this time I laughed...out loud.
Anyone who has followed my blog will be aware of my spiffy little run-in with breast cancer (I'm still winning by the way...it can f**k off and leave my stripy ass - well tit - alone!) which forces me to deal with the delights of Tamoxifen (like being in a menopause of sorts, complete with hot flashes, chills, cramping extremities and.....assertiveness..).
But I also have a few other things on the go including being HLA B27+, which courts such fun as iritis (inflamed eyes - requiring dilation of the pupil so you look like a malfunctioning terminator...in public), dry eyes, and ankylosing spondilitis (a form of arthritis which 'flares' regularly and could culminate in some of my bones 'setting' like brittle concrete - though how mine will develop is yet to be known, it may get no worse than it is so that's a good thing :))
Add this to being gluten and dairy intolerant and caffeine and yeast sensitive though and things get a little tiresome. Oh, and I mustn't forget my misbehaving internal girly bits that have now qualified me for a hysterectomy in the next 3-6 months (Yippee!).
Despite all this fun and shenanigans however, I go to the gym and do pretty much what other people do as I can. And I frequently remind myself that many many people deal with stuff a lot worse than my little random collection of conditions. But that doesn't mean I feel inclined to add to the list!
Picture this...
Two weeks ago, I'm hanging out at my mate's place helping with some furniture rearranging and such when I start to feel a little..peculiar....like I'm exercising hard core but standing still. I mention this to her (she just happens to be a nurse) and go to lie down for 20 minutes. I still feel rather 'racy' and short of breath so without sitting up I pathetically wave my hand in the air and ask my friend to take my pulse...it's over 100 (my normal resting pulse rate - as taken at the gym 2 days earlier - is in the 60's where it should be, and my blood pressure was also fine at 121/68).
Well this was a tad disconcerting...
As I had had a very stressful weekend however, I just put it down to that and my body slowly settled down over the next couple of days until I was back to normal. I thought nothing more of it until about a week later; I was at the gym with another friend when she said: "Good God what did you do to your leg?!!" This was a very good question for being the observant type that I am, I had managed to completely miss a (very impressive I must say) bruise the size of your average tomato on the back of my calf and another smaller one further up.
WTF? Who misses shit like that?
Anyway, the larger bruise also had a clear spot in the middle and it occurred to me that some small arachnid had possibly tried to execute my demise by stuffing its fangs into my tender person. The little sod.
So I thought I better mosey along to my local pharmacy and run my brilliant deduction by someone who was qualified enough to ascertain whether it was brilliant or not.
As it turned out, it was a little more brilliant than I planned.
"So what you're saying is..."I eyed the pharmacist warily "is that had that spider (or whatever it was) chewed on me a bit higher up...say near my neck or head...things may not have gone so well?"
"Exactly...the swelling could well have blocked your airway and and you could have died."
This is the part where I laughed...and as this was not my regular pharmacist so she knew nothing of all my other conditions and medication, the bemused look on her face only fed my mirth.
"I would definitely suggest you see your doctor and consider carrying an EpiPen."
An EpiPen...(unsubsidised in New Zealand so costing between $120 to $190 - with a shelf life of only 12-15 months) ...for my newly discovered, potentially fatal, allergy to an unknown biting thing.
I have pondered...mused even...about this over the last few days, and have decided I only have one thing to say at this point:
"Body?....COULD YA KNOCK IT OFF NOW!!!"
Anyone who has followed my blog will be aware of my spiffy little run-in with breast cancer (I'm still winning by the way...it can f**k off and leave my stripy ass - well tit - alone!) which forces me to deal with the delights of Tamoxifen (like being in a menopause of sorts, complete with hot flashes, chills, cramping extremities and.....assertiveness..).
But I also have a few other things on the go including being HLA B27+, which courts such fun as iritis (inflamed eyes - requiring dilation of the pupil so you look like a malfunctioning terminator...in public), dry eyes, and ankylosing spondilitis (a form of arthritis which 'flares' regularly and could culminate in some of my bones 'setting' like brittle concrete - though how mine will develop is yet to be known, it may get no worse than it is so that's a good thing :))
Add this to being gluten and dairy intolerant and caffeine and yeast sensitive though and things get a little tiresome. Oh, and I mustn't forget my misbehaving internal girly bits that have now qualified me for a hysterectomy in the next 3-6 months (Yippee!).
Despite all this fun and shenanigans however, I go to the gym and do pretty much what other people do as I can. And I frequently remind myself that many many people deal with stuff a lot worse than my little random collection of conditions. But that doesn't mean I feel inclined to add to the list!
Picture this...
Two weeks ago, I'm hanging out at my mate's place helping with some furniture rearranging and such when I start to feel a little..peculiar....like I'm exercising hard core but standing still. I mention this to her (she just happens to be a nurse) and go to lie down for 20 minutes. I still feel rather 'racy' and short of breath so without sitting up I pathetically wave my hand in the air and ask my friend to take my pulse...it's over 100 (my normal resting pulse rate - as taken at the gym 2 days earlier - is in the 60's where it should be, and my blood pressure was also fine at 121/68).
Well this was a tad disconcerting...
As I had had a very stressful weekend however, I just put it down to that and my body slowly settled down over the next couple of days until I was back to normal. I thought nothing more of it until about a week later; I was at the gym with another friend when she said: "Good God what did you do to your leg?!!" This was a very good question for being the observant type that I am, I had managed to completely miss a (very impressive I must say) bruise the size of your average tomato on the back of my calf and another smaller one further up.
WTF? Who misses shit like that?
Anyway, the larger bruise also had a clear spot in the middle and it occurred to me that some small arachnid had possibly tried to execute my demise by stuffing its fangs into my tender person. The little sod.
So I thought I better mosey along to my local pharmacy and run my brilliant deduction by someone who was qualified enough to ascertain whether it was brilliant or not.
As it turned out, it was a little more brilliant than I planned.
"So what you're saying is..."I eyed the pharmacist warily "is that had that spider (or whatever it was) chewed on me a bit higher up...say near my neck or head...things may not have gone so well?"
"Exactly...the swelling could well have blocked your airway and and you could have died."
This is the part where I laughed...and as this was not my regular pharmacist so she knew nothing of all my other conditions and medication, the bemused look on her face only fed my mirth.
"I would definitely suggest you see your doctor and consider carrying an EpiPen."
An EpiPen...(unsubsidised in New Zealand so costing between $120 to $190 - with a shelf life of only 12-15 months) ...for my newly discovered, potentially fatal, allergy to an unknown biting thing.
I have pondered...mused even...about this over the last few days, and have decided I only have one thing to say at this point:
"Body?....COULD YA KNOCK IT OFF NOW!!!"
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