Gmail Groan, Menstrual Moan.

I love gmail. I had an account very close to the beginning, and the storage space, the threaded mails, and labelling system are all great.

Two things are bugging me though.

Firstly, if you want to send a mail, there doesn't seem to be any way to bring up your address book and select addresses from there. Instead you have to basically go into the 'to' box and type a, then select any email addresses you want which begin with A, then type b, select any email addresses you want which begin with B and so on. Slow and irritating!

And secondly, the spam control seems to be becoming poorer by the day. At first it was a little over-zealous, and I regularly had to check the spam folder for mails from various friends. Nowadays it is missing tonnes and tonnes of spam.

Now, I understand that spammers are (occasionally) clever and that there will always be new spam or different spam which will slip through the net. But honestly, if I have to tell them one more time that those 12 mails entitled The Ultimate Online Pharmaceutical or that series called Penis Launcher are, yes, spam, I will go mad.

I have been marking the Pharmaceutical messages as spam for weeks now, and yet they still, without fail, land in my inbox. Why? Why?!

I know that some spam will be unexpected and well-disguised, but for goddess' sake, if yahoogroups have already marked it spam, then it is probably spam; if I have marked it as spam every day for 6 weeks, then it is probably spam; if it is advertising a dating site with some rather exceptionally lurid adverts, then it is probably spam. I could go on and on.

Surely it is supposed to learn from what you put into the spam folder, especially things you put in repeatedly.

Raar. (Incidentally, I have many gmail invites going - if you let me know your email address I'll send you one.)

And, all the above moaning is superceded by me moaning about the incredible amount of pain I am in today. It's particularly bad despite some rather heavy-duty painkillers, and I am being comforted by a lovely wheat bag and some not-insignificant complaining to self.

As this entry explains, I have endometriosis, a horrible disease of chronic pain which, especially on days like today, is incredibly disabling and, as the book I read recently kept repeating, is incurable. Joy.

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Technorati tags: gmail; spam hate; incurable_hippie; wheat bags; endometriosis.