X Factor Faceplant
You sing for your life, you manage to get into the last 24 acts of the competition. Just as you find out which X Factor judge will be your mentor, you overcompensate and faceplant into the carpet of the finalists holding room.
Whilst it’s wrong to laugh at other people’s misfortune, I found it bloody hilarious.
Internetless
For the past two weeks Katie and I have been “surviving” without internet. By surviving, I was able to fix my neighbours wireless router in exchange for piggybacking on his connection (a warning for everyone else, don’t use a low WIFI channel when your router is next to a cordless phone).
The resulting connection, whilst good, would randomly disconnect, load pages quite slowly and completely disappear from a wireless search meaning any web design work or research was very hard to do.
The reason for the disconnection you ask? It begins with “B” and ends in “T”.
One random day at work I was on my lunch break when I received an email to my Gmail account telling me that my ISP were suspending my service. My first thought was “WTF?!” followed by a re-reading of the email to determine that BT had instructed my ISP that we no longer had a valid BT phone line.
After a phone call to BT, they politely instructed us that we had an account in arrears, something that we found really hard to believe since we have paid every bill since we se up the account. Further questioning revealed that when we activated the line and we received our phone number, we were due a charge for setting it up, something that I asked and was told would not be charged to us.
Fair enough, there may have been a mistake, how about we just pay the charge and be done with it? No, say BT, we must disconnect your phone line (without telling you) first, then you can moan about it later.
So there we were, without a phone line or internet. I call up, pay the charge and ask them to activate our phone line, so we can keep the same number and go on our merry way. “Certainly Sir”, says the Indian Call Centre Rep, “that will take 4-5 days to activate for you”. We wait 4-5 days, sure enough our line is restored, however the phone number is completely different.
We can’t reactivate our internet without the same BT phone number, this means another call with BT. “Certainly Sir” says a different Indian Call Centre Rep, “this will take [another] 4-5 days”.
We wait the allotted time, sure enough the number is restored and our internet provider could be called to re-activate our service. Without wanting to continue a theme here, how many days have we had to wait for this to go live?
Yes, you guessed it, 4-5 days (and a £25 reconnection fee I hasten to add). It should be going live today. Or maybe it could be another four or five days…
From Pink To Blue
This morning Katie and I drove down to Chelmsford for our twenty week baby scan. In the weeks before, Katie had been told she wouldn’t be allowed any further scans with the NHS because she “had exceeded her quota”, even though she is classified as a high risk pregnancy.
So this scan was a private scan, allowing us to make sure all was right and that we had an accurate identification of the sex of the baby.
Coming back to today, we found the place with plenty of time to spare, going into what looks like a very corporate environment inside a busy office block. Arriving on the fourth floor, we were ushered through empty corridors and offices into a scanning room with a few leather chairs and a scanning bed for Katie to lay on.
Initial questions we asked and then we were straight down to business. The assistant applied the jelly and BAM! a babies face was straight on the monitor. As she moved across Katie’s stomach, we could see it was laying on it’s front, moving it’s arms and legs as the ultrasound scanner was passed over it.
Then, after a small consultation with the supervisor, we were delivered a bit of a shock…our baby was a boy! The assistant passed the scanner over the lower half of the baby and I was passed a piece of paper indicating what a typical scan would look like for a girl and what it would look like for a boy. Sure enough, my baby had a penis!
Other checks were done and a due date was given to us. We will be expecting our baby boy on the 22nd February, all being well.
Exciting Yet Upsetting Times
One of the downsides of broadcasting a pregnancy via your blog is that when something happens or changes, you feel the need to update friends and family on the situation should something change.
We found out a few weeks ago that since Katie’s last scan, one of the babies had unfortunately not developed as it should and was no longer viable. We were told that this can happen quite often when expecting twins but quite obviously, we were upset that it had happened to us.
The good news was that the other twin was completely fine, fully formed and had a really strong heartbeat and to this day continues to do so. We have been messed around by the hospital regarding scanning and whatnot so have had to book a private scan for a week Saturday so we can be reassured all is still going to plan.
The purchasing has started, albeit in a small capacity. We have laid out our budget and decided on the items we wish to furnish our nursery with. Bedroom furniture has been bought and paid for, a steal as we bought it via an eBay auction. The pram has been found and will be bought nearer the time, it’s almost like something out of a Transformers movie, it can do everything except bathe the child!
Katie managed to secure a Doppler via another eBay auction, this allows us to be able to hear the heartbeat of the baby, I have embedded a small clip below.
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Sex In An MRI Machine
I found this on BoingBoing, whilst the first part is pretty boring, the still images made into a video of a couple having sex in an MRI machine is one of those experiences where you don’t want to look but you just can’t help it.
It’s NSFW purely for the fact it’s still sex.
The first thing I thought was how barbaric it looks. I showed Katie the video and I think the act of conceiving a child is going to be the last time I ever get to hop on the good foot and do the bad thing for a long while!
Living For The Weekend
This weekend was another one of those periods when it slips by too quick and your back at work the next day wondering what the hell happened.
During the week, I had been in contact with Martin, my friend from university (Hello mate!). We had arranged for him to come down on the Friday night, so Katie and I set to cleaning out or spare room of all the clean washing that needed ironing and just general rubbish that had no business being there. A few stern words and a lot of elbow grease later, we had a lovely clean room with a nice comfortable bed for our visiting compadre.
When he arrived, beers were drunk, life discussed and FIFA played before we retired for bed, knowing we had a whole day drinking ahead of us the next day.
Saturday came and a full english breakfast was cooked. All three of us sat down to watch a bit of morning TV, where I have slowly introduced Katie to Soccer AM. She remains adamant that she doesn’t actually enjoy the football parts of the show but I know deep down she harbours a secret football passion just waiting to be unlocked.
Saturdays weather was hot and sunny, it would have been criminal not to have enjoyed a ninety-nine ice cream. Building on that, it would also have been criminal not to have an ice cold beer in that weather, again we duly obliged. Our main appointment that day was to attend my stepdad’s retirement party, where he had invited various members of friends, family and some previous work buddies. We were the first to get there, meaning we could pick our spot in the garden, enjoy a few cold beverages and catch up with my parents before the masses arrived.
As the day progressed, Martin and I were beaten by a long haired Arsenal fan at Monster Jenga and one of the attendees brought an awesome Parsons Jack Russell that needed re-homing. My parents fell in love with it only for the carer of the dog to announce she was having second thoughts.
We lasted until about midnight, after sinking what probably totalled twenty bottles of Carlsberg Export. Because these were spaced out between ten hours, we luckily had none of the side effects both that night and the following morning and as Katie is with child, she unfortunately had to stick to the Pepsi Max all evening.
Sunday was another slow starter, this time featuring Bacon Sandwiches before Martin departed, heading for the lowlands of Norfolk. We enjoyed the rest of the day with friends of ours, grabbing some lunch at a local pub before coming home and watching the recorded X-Factor show we had missed the night previous.
An early night sleep and it was back to work. The cycle continues.