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Emotional Rollercoaster


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I'm in a totally weird place. After trying off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on for about 18 months, Mrs Whistle is expecting our first in December. Utilising the Johnny Walters close eyes and smash it down the middle penalty routine I figured one would hit the target eventually and thankfully it did.

We had mechanical fornication at times the graph said to; exotic love making in foreign locations such as the spare room where the wife whispered seductively in my ear 'ceiling needs painting' and; even a time I took her by surprise, wearing nowt but my Optimus Prime helmet and socks, over the breakfast bar whilst enquiring if she knew as to the identity of her father in the Autobot Leader's melodious tones.

Every single time as we reached the final stretch, even on the occasion I hadn't 'transformed' in to a Latin love god putting in a performance over the usual 7 out of 10, the good lady would shout, scream or, even in a timorous whisper, expel 'Yes'. Never 'No' because that's rape George and that's an even more serious crime than the Fudora. Nor did she ever get to the moment of climax and suddenly suggest a third way involving something vague about jam to be given in a time somewhere between next week and doomsday, avoiding being pinned down on flavour, whilst in general sounding like a lot of bollocks any way. It could end up being gooseberry jam and who in their right mind under 65 wants that? 'No' offers little in the way of opportunity and less to get excited about, and regarding the third way, I offered to keep taking it out 18 months ago so it was all in or nothing, shit or bust; no fudges now baby when she refused at that juncture!

We found out a month ago it's a girl and I sway from extreme excitement to being absolutely petrified between heartbeats. I have a brother, all my cousins are male, so I have no scheme of reference. I like football, Football Manager, Guinness and boobs and, even though I'm quite happy girls could be in to all four of those things these days quite openly, I worry how I'm possibly going to start from zero to progressing towards doing our gift justice. I've lain sleepless worrying about it and that's before I think about what happens if: I lose my job; one of us takes ill; her first boyfriend is an Old Firm Fan who uses the 2030 equivalent of 'Chilax' in conversation etc.

What are the alternatives though? Maybe the wife and I could have not bothered with kids and where would we be in 20 years? Maybe we'd be cruising the world whilst at home Gillies furniture and a pristine lawn await; maybe we'd be roughly where we are now or; maybe we'd end up in a boring, pointless, lifeless marriage doing neither of us many favours. In those scenarios there are varying levels of success but in none of them would we leave anything meaningful behind in all likelihood. I don't want to be sitting in my conservatory amongst the ghosts of a couple of pets and an Open University degree in Theology, or alternatively, in an rundown house on a knackered settee eating Watsits from the crotch pouch of my favourite lounge trouser watching Soccer Saturday again, whilst wandering what just might have been. The thought of that missed opportunity and the worry of constant regret over wasting my life to pursue living it in a presumed artificial security blanket makes me realise that having a baby is, without doubt, the most difficult and challenging route but by Christ it will hopefully be the most rewarding.

A eureka moment hit me one night after hearing someone say 'Babies don't come with instruction manuals' though. That is obviously true but it was the realisation that I will co-author our own specific instruction manual that made me realise how exciting this all is. All I need to do is take the first step, assess where I am, look at role models around me for inspiration, take guidance from those who we wish to emulate, and maybe we can create a life that'll make us as parents proud; if we're really lucky maybe offer something back to society too. It doesn't matter that we have argued about the colour of the nursery because allegedly certain colours raise certain character traits. Exasperated at my previous knock backs a final suggestion of pink, purple, blue and green stripes got met with derision from an aesthetic perspective. This was followed with apoplectic rage when I concurred but noted at least the colours would help her grow up to be a cold, angry, ego maniacal, selfish witch just like her maw. Of course we mediated and, even though previously my wife was adamant no pink and that I'd better come up with another option pronto, finally agreed on a nice pink after the crowd in B&Q died down.

Maybe we nurture a scientist who cures cancer, a doctor who helps sick people in Africa, a secretary who ends up being a wonderful mum, an average Joe, the awkward family member you're compelled to invite for Christmas or duplicitous anchor for the BBC. In any event we can look people in the eye with absolute pride at best or the consolation of having tried at worst.

I can't help seeing similarities between this and the referendum whilst I know it is not a perfect metaphor by any stretch. This is a journey for five million people and in the future we could be hugely proud of what we achieved in trying to break from the greed of this political norm or consoled in the fact that we stood up and gave it a real go. Who could begrudge us that? With the status quo I struggle to see Gillies Furniture on the horizon and jam seems equally forlorn; even gooseberry. I can see us waking up in 20 years after another couple of oil paid wars under our belt, people still hungry, NHS fucked, Daily Mail readers still ok looking down on others whilst demanding help from society when their world tremors slightly, students indebted over their eyes, cats getting fatter. The status quo aren't offering hope, chance, dreams other than the hope those who have gain further, chance they can get even more rotund and dream of taking the piss out of our subrogation. I dread the day of looking my daughter in the eye and telling her that the Scottish people, after years to critically analyse the proposition with the world wide web at their fingertips, decided, or were coerced into believing, this grey, bleak path was the best for us to travel down. All we can say then is 'We were scared' and we could easily be grudged that.

What I'm really getting at I suppose is the first step is to strap your sex helmet on and enquire as to who David Cameron's father is by democratically screaming 'Yes' in an orgasmic cacophony of collective hope over fear. Gees our jam back; you've wasted it for too long.

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It's been a rollercoaster alright.

I swtich almost hour to hour with a different view of the referendum and what result it will return. It's hugely encouraging to hear, see and read the pouring of support for Yes along with the the shifting of previous no voters to yes, not just from reading on here, but by knowing and meeting people in real life doing this. I worry about the lack of support for Better Together merchandise (as bizzare as that may sound, and dinnae ken if 'worry' is the right word) but, mostly incase they are the 'silent majority' they are being painted up as and will end up opting for the UK.

Then with some private companies advising their stafff against a No vote and so on. I don't know how prevelent these are, but heard from a guy tonight that his firm although not telling how to vote are saying there will be implications of a yes vote.And if these people who may cautious yes voters, will sway over this.

And then it's back to things I've seen on social media and the positivity of the yes camp. Find those pictures so inspiring of events like Tommy Sheridan tonight speaking on the top of a car as the hall was too small. Speaking of Sheridan - some of his vids have over 200,000 views - and his recent appereance with Andrew Neil on the Sunday Politics has over 75k from being put up late last night (Sunday), Dougie Maclean singing in Perth and Buchanan Street being filled with Yes supporters. And tomorrow we've got Alex Arthur and Martin Compston organising a happy/festival of Yes voters - which again hopefully will see a good number of people and some hopefully future historic pics that will be up in our National Gallery one day (if we get over the line).

I look at my pals, family and think how can yes lose - when I see their voting intentions and inspiring hearing of 2 who have switched from No to Yes, but then I'll hear from another person who will tell me he doesn't know anyone voting yes.

Will AFI play a huge factor in the outcome, I think and hope to god it will. People are interesting, just watched that Kevin Bridges' program on BBC 1 and the taxi driver especially - he went on to say we would be one of the first countries that 'shat it', if we vote no, yet he said he was at that time an undecided/soft no. It's folk like him who are going to decide this beast and how they will vote that day.

Will the heavy hearted head no/heart yes voters end up staying away from the polling station on Thursday, or as Labour seem to be advising, if you don't know vote no, or go with Derek Bateman's AFI (ah, badger it).

I'm trying mentally to prepare for a no vot. We're mostly all Scotland fans, Italy in 2007 was one of the worst disappointments I've ever experienced. It's impossible not to think of the possiblities that independence could bring and gets you giddy, then I try to reign it in with how crushing a no would be, then my pal texts "Perty on Friday?''

No matter how little time you have free. If you are yes - do something/anything that promotes it - it can be volunteering for some of the Yes movements and you don't need to go round the doors, I'm sure there are plenty of posters, leaflets, envelopes that all need somebody to deliver or fold even, if not that - wearing your Yes badge, or trying to talk to someone who is a possibly yes/no vote.

We can then wake up or stay awake more like through Thursday-Friday thinking ''Well, at least I and us, our country, gave it a bloody good go.''

Two days left and this thing is done. It's over. It's finished. Gone!

Let's return a Yes vote.

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Related this point, why do so many people apparently dislike Eck?

That's the media for you. But don't let it get you down. I hate to admit it but about a year ago I probably was one of the same type. That was until I got engaged with the campaign. Now I've got nowt but admiration for the man. If I can change I'm sure loads and loads of others have to.

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repeat again - aberdeen is full of greedy, i'm allright jack, small minded feckers (from an aberdonian ) - really disappointed in some people i know from primary school

Don't worry. If they're not 16 they can't vote.

I am a bag of nerves been out for the last two weeks doing leaflet drops and done first ever canvassing tonight.(not easy suffering depression)

every time I pass or hear a yes I think this is it we can then a no back to square one.

surviving on about 4hrs sleep and been in tears umpteen times this week the only thing that keeps me going

is if its no I can say to my 3 year old son Fraser when he is older son i tried my best for your future while your grandparents want this for you.

If its yes i can say we done it you have a voice get out there and tell the world what you want in life.

THANK YOU!

I think the bookies can only quote on what they have knowledge about - I dont think they know much about a scottish referendum

Correct. All part and parcel of propaganda.

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I'll be stuck in the middle of the Australian bush, (no not that bush), with a shitey internet connection and no telly. I don't have to stay up all night to hear the results, but on the other hand I have to make it all the way through to 3 or 4pm on Friday before the result is clear.

I don't have to listen to non-stop propaganda and maybe that's why I feel pretty confident of a Yes vote by a clear margin. Still cacking it like.

Nobody can thank the people on the ground enough. We're neck and neck with 2 days to go. Against all the lies, intimidation and bullying of the British establishment. Who would have thought that even a month ago. They are truly bricking it, and that says a lot on its own.

Thankyou one and all for everything. Now lets push it over the line and show these bastards.

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If you are looking at Facebook for a sense of what is happening the two or three vocal no voters posts have had a significant drop in likes and all comments have been from people I never envisaged voting yes counter commenting on them. Staunch rangers men from larkhall included. South Lanarkshire is really looking like a massive yes. My family have never been engaged in politics and used to hate me banging on about independence over the last 2 years and were no voters, now my dad and my mum post yes Scotland stuff and actively promote the yes view point, both mid sixties, both admit it is social media that has opened their eyes to the establishment. My office, in a traditional unionist stronghold line of employment, is 11 yes and one don't know. It's really happening. Keep the faith and keep working hard.

Edited to say everyone of the NO voters I know, about 10 or so, think YES is going to win.

Edited by flynnyboy
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If you are looking at Facebook for a sense of what is happening the two or three vocal no voters posts have had a significant drop in likes and all comments have been from people I never envisaged voting yes counter commenting on them. Staunch rangers men from larkhall included. South Lanarkshire is really looking like a massive yes. My family have never been engaged in politics and used to hate me banging on about independence over the last 2 years and were no voters, now my dad and my mum post yes Scotland stuff and actively promote the yes view point, both mid sixties, both admit it is social media that has opened their eyes to the establishment. My office, in a traditional unionist stronghold line of employment, is 11 yes and one don't know. It's really happening. Keep the faith and keep working hard.

I have very little no voters on my facebook. Its more yes voters doubting their decison now after all the media crap

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I have very little no voters on my facebook. Its more yes voters doubting their decison now after all the media crap

Certainly that is not the feeling I'm getting. Most are even more resolved to vote yes because they have seen the lies and mistruths exposed for what they are and ain't buying this latest line. The NO side have got this campaign spectacularly wrong, a line I've heard from a few NO voters. There is no way back for them now. No matter what is on offer they have lost all trust.

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I'm in a totally weird place. After trying off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on for about 18 months, Mrs Whistle is expecting our first in December. Utilising the Johnny Walters close eyes and smash it down the middle penalty routine I figured one would hit the target eventually and thankfully it did.

We had mechanical fornication at times the graph said to; exotic love making in foreign locations such as the spare room where the wife whispered seductively in my ear 'ceiling needs painting' and; even a time I took her by surprise, wearing nowt but my Optimus Prime helmet and socks, over the breakfast bar whilst enquiring if she knew as to the identity of her father in the Autobot Leader's melodious tones.

Every single time as we reached the final stretch, even on the occasion I hadn't 'transformed' in to a Latin love god putting in a performance over the usual 7 out of 10, the good lady would shout, scream or, even in a timorous whisper, expel 'Yes'. Never 'No' because that's rape George and that's an even more serious crime than the Fudora. Nor did she ever get to the moment of climax and suddenly suggest a third way involving something vague about jam to be given in a time somewhere between next week and doomsday, avoiding being pinned down on flavour, whilst in general sounding like a lot of bollocks any way. It could end up being gooseberry jam and who in their right mind under 65 wants that? 'No' offers little in the way of opportunity and less to get excited about, and regarding the third way, I offered to keep taking it out 18 months ago so it was all in or nothing, shit or bust; no fudges now baby when she refused at that juncture!

We found out a month ago it's a girl and I sway from extreme excitement to being absolutely petrified between heartbeats. I have a brother, all my cousins are male, so I have no scheme of reference. I like football, Football Manager, Guinness and boobs and, even though I'm quite happy girls could be in to all four of those things these days quite openly, I worry how I'm possibly going to start from zero to progressing towards doing our gift justice. I've lain sleepless worrying about it and that's before I think about what happens if: I lose my job; one of us takes ill; her first boyfriend is an Old Firm Fan who uses the 2030 equivalent of 'Chilax' in conversation etc.

What are the alternatives though? Maybe the wife and I could have not bothered with kids and where would we be in 20 years? Maybe we'd be cruising the world whilst at home Gillies furniture and a pristine lawn await; maybe we'd be roughly where we are now or; maybe we'd end up in a boring, pointless, lifeless marriage doing neither of us many favours. In those scenarios there are varying levels of success but in none of them would we leave anything meaningful behind in all likelihood. I don't want to be sitting in my conservatory amongst the ghosts of a couple of pets and an Open University degree in Theology, or alternatively, in an rundown house on a knackered settee eating Watsits from the crotch pouch of my favourite lounge trouser watching Soccer Saturday again, whilst wandering what just might have been. The thought of that missed opportunity and the worry of constant regret over wasting my life to pursue living it in a presumed artificial security blanket makes me realise that having a baby is, without doubt, the most difficult and challenging route but by Christ it will hopefully be the most rewarding.

A eureka moment hit me one night after hearing someone say 'Babies don't come with instruction manuals' though. That is obviously true but it was the realisation that I will co-author our own specific instruction manual that made me realise how exciting this all is. All I need to do is take the first step, assess where I am, look at role models around me for inspiration, take guidance from those who we wish to emulate, and maybe we can create a life that'll make us as parents proud; if we're really lucky maybe offer something back to society too. It doesn't matter that we have argued about the colour of the nursery because allegedly certain colours raise certain character traits. Exasperated at my previous knock backs a final suggestion of pink, purple, blue and green stripes got met with derision from an aesthetic perspective. This was followed with apoplectic rage when I concurred but noted at least the colours would help her grow up to be a cold, angry, ego maniacal, selfish witch just like her maw. Of course we mediated and, even though previously my wife was adamant no pink and that I'd better come up with another option pronto, finally agreed on a nice pink after the crowd in B&Q died down.

Maybe we nurture a scientist who cures cancer, a doctor who helps sick people in Africa, a secretary who ends up being a wonderful mum, an average Joe, the awkward family member you're compelled to invite for Christmas or duplicitous anchor for the BBC. In any event we can look people in the eye with absolute pride at best or the consolation of having tried at worst.

I can't help seeing similarities between this and the referendum whilst I know it is not a perfect metaphor by any stretch. This is a journey for five million people and in the future we could be hugely proud of what we achieved in trying to break from the greed of this political norm or consoled in the fact that we stood up and gave it a real go. Who could begrudge us that? With the status quo I struggle to see Gillies Furniture on the horizon and jam seems equally forlorn; even gooseberry. I can see us waking up in 20 years after another couple of oil paid wars under our belt, people still hungry, NHS fucked, Daily Mail readers still ok looking down on others whilst demanding help from society when their world tremors slightly, students indebted over their eyes, cats getting fatter. The status quo aren't offering hope, chance, dreams other than the hope those who have gain further, chance they can get even more rotund and dream of taking the piss out of our subrogation. I dread the day of looking my daughter in the eye and telling her that the Scottish people, after years to critically analyse the proposition with the world wide web at their fingertips, decided, or were coerced into believing, this grey, bleak path was the best for us to travel down. All we can say then is 'We were scared' and we could easily be grudged that.

What I'm really getting at I suppose is the first step is to strap your sex helmet on and enquire as to who David Cameron's father is by democratically screaming 'Yes' in an orgasmic cacophony of collective hope over fear. Gees our jam back; you've wasted it for too long.

I'm not sure whether to laugh at the hilarity of this :lol:... Or weep because so much of it rings true :( Of course substitute the Optimus Prime helmet for a Viking helmet.

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