good old Dunners

I should have known, I really really should have but the weather was so GOOD at Easter, when it is usually puss, that I foolishly thought it would do the same for me again. Ha. I doubt my 3/4 pants will ever get an airing and I am still frantically hurling clothes out of my wardrobe in search of my stripy Kathmandu polyprop goodness. If this is all the weather has I might as well have stayed in the UK, at least it has central heating. But then I wouldn't be with the whanau so I guess I'll just have to cowboy up and cope. I'm sure I'll be better once the rain clears long enough for me to walk on my beach.

*grumble* *grumble* woe is me etc... ;-)

But on the bright side- I just found out that one of my friends is pregnant which is SUPERAWESOME and when I think of that I couldn't be happier.

final missive

I HEAD HOME IN TWO DAYS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It's so soon it's surreal. I'm glad I only fly out on Monday evening because it gives me the whole day to pack and clean my room etc.

Oh I can't wait.

Mum, Dad, J, see you soon. Beach here I come! Break out the jandles and the sunshine, this girl is coming home.

easy on the eyes

I have a widget that gives me a new Calvin and Hobbes comic every day. Sometimes I just have to share them.

In fact I think today shall just be a day of eye candy.


www.aoj.ca


I think this guy's drawings are amazing and I particularly like the perspective on this one. www.byroglyphics.com Look in the gallery section for more of this style of thing.


www.imphead.comI've long been a fan of fantasy art. I envy these people their imaginations.


And finally, the simple pleasure of line art should never be taken for granted. www.explodingdog.com

Möchten Sie eine Tüte damit?

I thought an entrée of Calvin and Hobbes was suitable for a Monday. There's nothing like laughing at some naked mischievous Calvin ass. Hee hee.

So this was the weekend of Berlin. Dude, if I thought Belfast was bleak, Berlin takes the cake. 'Austere' is my word for Berlin. I mean really, it shouldn't have surprised me. A lot of the city has only been rebuilt since the 90's and unification so it's a weird mix between 'new' 90's architecture and buildings that have been rebuilt in imitation of what used to be there. The whole place feels quite bleak and a bit artificial and leaves me quite cold. The other thing of architectural/arty note, at least for me, were the memorials to things from the war. They were totally different from other ones that I have seen which, once again, if my brain was working, would not have surprised me either. Usually war memorials are tributes to the soldiers who have given their lives. They've commemorative, maybe uplifting and a bit inspiring. Not the German ones- and rightfully so really. One was a large stone room, all grey concrete slabs and high ceiling and I was already weepy before I got in. I'm not really sure why, this wave of emotion just hit me. And when I got inside I was looking around this massive, bleak, grey room and was ready to bolt, it was getting a bit much. In the middle of the room was a large bronze statue of a person holding/sheltering another one half on their lap and the only light on the room was a hole in the ceiling which cast light on to the statue. It wasn't pretty and it was slightly abstract but as I made myself stand there, I could feel my distress gradually dissipating. There was a sense of peace and comfort that gradually took its place. This is not to say that peace etc radiated from it because they didn't. It just fascinated me how somehow I could stand in this grey, bleak room and gradually it felt like things weren't quite so bad. And as I came out and thought about it, it seemed totally suitable. Another one that got to me was the holocaust memorial. It's a large square of undulating ground filled with a grid of grey stone columns of varying heights. As you walk in to it, the ground drops away and the columns get higher. From the outside, it doesn't look like it takes up that much room but when you're walking through it, you're glancing down row upon row of grey columns and it seems to go on forever. It feels like a graveyard and becomes quite overwhelming, like it will never end. Again, totally appropriate. I took photos of neither because at the time, it didn't feel appropriate. These are images I will carry in my mind and feelings I will remember forever.

[On a side note, how art is used to commemorate things of war and conflict (finding this hard to articulate) fascinates me. Before coming to Europe, I was used to triumphant statues of fallen heroes and plaques with names written on them . Then I go to Belfast and they have massive murals on walls glorifying both martyrs and terrorists (sometimes the same, sometimes not) which is a totally different slant on things and now I have the sombre, almost dark, not at all glorifying memorials from Berlin. It's fascinating.]

But now for the photos, the bit people really care about:


Me in front of the Brandenburger Tor. Day one in Berlin was overcast and cold and really did nothing to create a good first impression.


The Berlin wall. This is not apparently the prettiest section, the ones in the west are better but this was the bit we got to see. The bits that aren't still standing are marked by cobblestones and you can follow the whole line of the wall, all 150km (ballpark estimate) of it.


This was taken in the most amazing chocolate shop ever. This was a huge hulking santa made of mini santas. Oh the cunning artistry.


Day 2 in Berlin was much colder, probably because it was crisp and clear. It was sunny although I still didn't find the city beautiful, it was a much better day. Lotte and I wandered around markets and had mulled wine and it was fab.


What caught my attention on this cathedral was this sign. Siehe, ich bin bei euch alle Tage bis an der Welt ende. Which I translate to be 'I will be with you all until the end of the world'. I don't know if it's a quote from something and I'm not a person for poetry and as previously demonstrated, am not religious, but I thought that in German it read very eloquently and was a very nice sentiment.


This is the ground above the bunker of Hitler where he ended his life. Apparently it's a car park because the walls of the bunker were built so thick that they couldn't be demolished and no building could be built on top of it. So it's doomed to be a carpark until the end of time in all likelihood. Part of me thought it would be nice to make it a garden but that might be falsely interpreted as a celebration or glorification of Hitler. I see it as being the complete opposite of everything he stood for. You could take it to be- here beneath us is the final resting place of one of the largest atrocities of mankind. Because of the death and destruction and intolerance (I could go on, I'll stop here) that he stood for, we choose to wipe that memory away with new growth. Come here in spring to contemplate the daffodils poking up and the buds appearing on the trees and think about new life, come here in winter and sit on a cold concrete bench and look at the bare tree branches and the grey sky and the horrible accommodation blocks that enclose the space and feel gloomy but remember that spring will be coming and soon this grey and brown patch will be green and thriving and life carries on. (Gosh, look at me being all wanky. I think those memorials had a greater impact than I thought.)

On these columns, the chipped away parts are from bullets. We're looking at history folks. Apparently there is conflict as to whether the columns should be beautified and replaced or left as they are. I say keep your history Germany, leave them where they stand.


And this is the mob who went, minus, of course, me. Because I'm taking the picture, duh.
So essentially it was a weekend of sightseeing but mainly wandering around markets and trying out my German. It’s well rusty, I haven’t spoken it in 8 years, but I still got by just fine and could translate for my friends. I felt quite a sense of achievement from that which is cool because me and German/Germany… well lets just call I a rocky relationship…

the way things work
And I'm sorry but was there something in my last entry that somehow got thrown up by Google because 55 hits? It seems a freak anomaly. But on the other hand, it's made my clustermap look a whole lot more populated so I shouldn't really complain. *slight pause* I just checked my blog for comments and it would seem that my rise in hits are in fact due to Damien. It would seem he did a massive spamming of Hi5 people and if most of them googled him or that link, they would have come across my blog (apparently) which explains my rise in hits. It's a funny world.

of puppies and ducklings and weird shit

This picture was forwarded to me by a girl at work and I don't know if it makes me a bad person but I find this bloody hilarious. Apart from teh obvious duckling-down-the-drain, there is the bewildered look of the mother in the final frame. I can just hear her going, "Wha' happen'?" Oh the slapstick of nature. It's hard to beat.

Yesterday we had a visitor to the office. One of DIVE's sales staff is now based in Manchester and when she came down this month she brought her new dog Bailey. He's even been added to the meet the team page and has his own profile. "DIVE's new advertising assistant Bailey Sturgeon joins us from the Warrington Animal Welfare rescue centre. The 18-month-old scuba dog has just started shallow water diving. His other hobbies include chasing frisbees, chewing plastic ducks, running, dribbling and playing catch in the DIVE office. 'Woof, woof!' he says." Oh we're a bunch of softies here. Being inventive, we gave him a plastic duck to play with and now poor duckie has been chewed to something almost beyond recognition. At our new offices, we are split over 2 floors and we've decided that ours is the cool floor. Bailey sure thinks so. On our floor there are toys and people who will run around with him and give him water and behave pretty much like dogs themselves. He's coming in again this afternoon and I can't wait- I was a special favourite (maybe because I was the one who sacrificed the duck in the first place...)


The weirdness of the internet
In the past month I have had a couple of Hi5 requests from people I do not know. It's a bit strange to check your email and have some random asking you to sign on to their friend list when you don't even know them. I also had no idea why these people were contacting me. I thought maybe they're blog fans? (And yes folks, it would seem that I am that egocentric) but then I realised that YEARS ago I signed up to Hi5 at the request of someone I actually knew and it turns out my profile is still on there. But has current age and location which means I did update it within the last year which is strange because I reallyREALLY don't remember doing that... Anyhue- amnesia aside, today I got my strangest Hi5-related thing yet. Apparently I had a message from a guy called Damien which read:

hey, whats up? just came across your profile at the search page and was wondering if youd wanna chat sometime?
where ya from.. things ya like to do..
if ya wanna know more about me and see more pics go to myswtpages.com/damien
hope to hear from ya
damien

It seemed innocuous enough and I'm in carpe diem mode so I checked out myswtpages.com/damien and I have only one thing to say- oh my Holy Jesus, WTF?! This is the first picture I came across so of course I had a good giggle. LOTS of buff posing shots but imagine my horror when you click on some of the pictures and get told that you have to be over 18 to access the site! OMG! You know what that means- naked pictures! Man bits on camera! Ooooo yicky. So now I am suitably repulsed and amused. Damien, if by some chance of the web you come across this, I'm sure you're a lovely guy but you're just not for me. I like to view man bits in person and not via the internet. (Although if we overcome this, I feel there may be other irreconcilable differences we will not be able to overcome. Hence "irreconcilable".) So that's my excitement for the day.

things that make you go, "BABIES!!!!!"

My latest check of what's new on with Homestar Runner brought me to this I mean oh my God how cute are these?!! A teeny tiny girl squad?!! It's just so bloody cute I'm going all gooey.





The only thing cuter than this is Josh, my friend Sam's new baby. I'm sure she'll be fine with me sharing his image with the world. I mean he's CUTE. It's always such a pleasant surprise (relief) when friends have genuinely beautiful children. I know Kitty would argue that all babies are beautiful but some just don't twinge my heart strings. But Joshy's a honey. Look at those big blue eyes.

the looming dark

It's 16:15 and it's dark already- I'm tellin' ya- that's just not right. Not one bit, not a little, not at all. The only silver lining to this nasty gloomy cloud is that I FLY HOME IN 14 DAYS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Sorry for all those exclamation marks, they may have been slightly excessive but I am quite excited about it. Never mind the sun and the sand, I get to see my family. I get Mum hugs and Dad hugs and I get to annoy Julie by limpetting on to her at any chance I get. I just tend to sit down beside her and latch on. She may complain but I know she loves it really. Heh heh heh.

This weekend I'm heading to Berlin with 8 other females to see the sights and go to the Christmas markets. (So everyone back home be warned- it's cute but kitsch Xmas decorations from Berlin for Xmas.) Eight females. I'm sure we'll be fine.... Actually we've already decided we'll split up to do whatever we want to do during the day and the make a time to meet up for dinner. I'm quite looking forward to bundling up all nice and cozy and wandering around markets and sipping mulled wine. I have to admit that nothing feels quite as festive and 'Christmas-y' as a northern hemisphere Xmas. It's just different. Not that I'm complaining about getting to see both sunshine and daylight in 2 weeks- oh no. Bring it on. Lots of sun. Please? Pretty please? Oh go on Dunedin, I know you have it in you...

drawing the line

I can be pretty oblivious to 'signs' that are presented to me but the other morning when my iPod had died and I was walking to the bus I found myself with the theme song to Baywatch stuck in my head. Now call me crazy but I think that has to be a sure indication that I've been watching too much of it. Which is really only once in the weekend but I still think that is about twice as much as I should be. Especially because the last episode featured yet another soft porn montage with some girl walking along the beach in different skimpy outfits and lying in the sand stroking herself. HOW did they get away with having this on the prime-time tele?!

I also happened to stumble across Top 100 Facts for Chuck Norris the other day, in fact about an hour after my last blog entry which mentioned him. Freaky coincidence. (And I promise I wasn't searching for it, it just appeared. That's destiny.) The Chuck Norris facts are hilarious, and even better for anyone who remembers Walker: Texas Ranger. Some of my tops favs were:
• Chuck Norris does not hunt because the word hunting implies the probability of failure. Chuck Norris goes killing.
• Chuck Noris puts the "laughter" in "manslaughter".
• Chuck Norris sold his soul to the devil for his rugged good looks and unparalleled martial arts ability. Shortly after the transaction was finalized, Chuck roundhouse kicked the devil in the face and took his soul back. The devil, who appreciates irony, couldn't stay mad and admitted he should have seen it coming. They now play poker every second Wednesday of the month.
• Superman owns a pair of Chuck Norris pajamas.

I could go on but I'll stop there.

And just when you think you've heard of it all
I did think that unicycle hockey pretty much took the cake on WTF things- and in fact I still do but somewhere is in the top10 would have to be a Corduroy Appreciation Club. Thanks to A Dress A Day for that link. The first meeting was held Nov. 11, 2005, and the second on January 11, 2006, since Jan. 11 is the date which, after Nov. 11, most nearly resembles corduroy. It is a delightful feature about someone who was asked to be a guest speaker at a meeting of the Corduroy Appreciation Group. Before we parted, I asked Mr. Rohan what it was about my writing that had made him think I would be a good keynote speaker, and he mentioned one of my novels in which a character refers, early on, to a favorite corduroy jacket. “I was disappointed, though, that it didn’t come back the rest of the book,” he said. “I kept waiting.” Read it. It's a gem.

WTF?

I've got two words to say to you- unicycle hockey. (Oh yeah and by the way, that site is a bit nasty on the eyes, you have been warned.) Yep. You read me right. Unicycle hockey. Hockey whilst on a unicycle. I've been meaning to blog about this for just ages. Every Thursday night when I finish climbing, there are people playing unicycle hockey one on of the courts outside the gym. I derive a pure and simple joy from watching people tool around on one wheel with only a stick for balance as they chase a ball around the court. It has everything- suspense, action, coordination and, of course, humour.

What I want to know is WHY and HOW? I mean they have a FAQ page on the site which I checked but it has questions like: 1) What is Unicycle Hockey? 2) The History of Unicycle Hockey 3) The Rules of Unicycle Hockey etc etc but nowhere are the questions written in by the public: 1)WHY? 2)What in the name of God made someone decide to play hockey whilst pedaling around on one wheel? 3)How on earth do people find out about this? 4)Did I ask WHY?!

There is a little girl, I'm guessing belonging to one of the players, who usually wheels around while they're playing. I'm sure she can't be more than 10 years old and she does a pretty impressive show of keeping up on her pink unicycle. It is just cute.

so many excuses, so little time...

So.

I have finally started as designer on DIVE magazine so am both busy and challenged and oh so veryvery glad to be back doing design. But the process of learning new ropes whilst teaching my replacement the old ones takes up quite a bit of time. Hence no spare time. Hence no blogging. I'm sure you've all been pining (hahaha) so today I shall endeavour to fill in the gaps.

things that go bump in the night
The other weekend I house/cat-sat for a lady from work. I heartily indulged in long overdue quality kitty time. She's a needy kitty, I'm needy- it was a match made in heaven. On the Friday night I watched two episodes in the DVD of Supernatural that I had got from my online rental place and then decided I needed to go out and forage for essentials like milk before the shops closed. I had chosen this series because it has Alex from Dark Angel and Dean from Gilmore Girls and is by the makers of X-Files so if nothing else, I was interested. I can guarantee now that most of you out there would probably rather watch something else. But not be, oh no. I don't how I developed the penchant for trashy b-grade shows but it's definitely there. And cable TV just caters to this even more. There are different categories of course- there's Baywatch, which has to be the equivalent of a car crash. I mean it's awful but I really can't seem to look away. And then there's A-Team which I think I like because of nostalgia (same thing with MacGyver but that isn't showing here). Oh my God- and Walker: Texas Ranger. I mean that show is TRUELY awful but when I was first year at uni, I would come home from my Wed evening shift at the supermarket, grab dinner and sit in front of Walker- with headphones on (everyone else was asleep my this stage and there were super light sleepers in our house) with almost religious dedication. And then you get all the sci-fi stuff which really doesn't have to be very good at all to capture my interest. Buffy, Angel, Firelfy*, Tru Calling, Torchwood, Battlestar Galactica**. I could sci-fi my day away. Patsy's house has the glory of all all Sky Channels so I even got to see Vampire High on the horror channel. I was a bit perplexed by that. I would've thought that something on the horror channel would be scary but this wasn't even b-grade enough to hold my interest for a full half hour episode. Which is just sad. But I digress. Supernatural, although not the fabbest of the fab, is by the makers of the X-Files and as such, has that same slightly creepy element which isn't all-put scary, just a slightly tense. So when I went out for milk at 7pm, when it happened to be totally dark and felt a lot later, I noticed that the moon was almost full and my brain clocked that it was just 2 days after Halloween. Patsy lives near where I work so I know the general area and saw this shortcut/lane thingy which I guessed would take me down the hill and it looked wide and well lit so I headed down it. Only to find out that it went alongside a cemetery. And not some slick, modern deal, oh no, this was a pokey little dark plot of land complete with long grass and tilting headstones. I have a vivid imagination and let me tell you, you could not have paid me enough money to walk across that grass because I know some rotten skeletal hand would have punched its way out of the ground to grab my ankle. I just knew it. I could feel it in my waters.

trying something new
There have been some rather hilarious (as in OHM WTF?!) updates in my social life but due to the public nature of the internet, I'm waiting to see how they resolve themselves before I share the car-crash comic value with the rest of the world at large, in particular the person they involve. I'll limit it now to saying that I might have a date on Tuesday. I mean I'm definitely going out for a drink with someone I have never met before (and blind dating was the one thing I had vowed never to do again (I lie, there are several things I have vowed never to do again. Work in a supermarket is one of them.) even though the only blind date I ever had was really dinner with someone I'd never met but two of my friends were there as well for safety buffers so it wasn't really a proper date at all.) but I don't know if it's a 'date' as such. Murky waters. Much room for schadenfreude for you folks. I may or may not keep you posted.

in conclusions
Apart from work and fully exploring the potential glory of cable TV, all I've really been doing is climbing which, thankfully, is going well at the moment. I feel like I'm closer to consistently climbing the same level of stuff and near the start of next year, Graeme, my climbing buddy, and I, plan to do a lead climbing course which beings us one step closer to being able to climb by ourselves outdoors which is the ultimate goal.

There were so many other tales I wanted to tell but priority goes to getting something up seeing as it's been so long since I've written anything...

*notice my Joss Whedon tendency
** I am in no way calling these shows crap, by the way. I will defend Firefly and Angel to the death (probably yours) as well as others.

Long time, no blog!

Hey! Wow! I won $2.65 on a bet in the Melbourne Cup! Best result I've ever had!!

not the gumdrop buttons!

When I was at high school, I, like most girls, would cover my A3 art folder with pictures. Unlike most girls, I would not have pictures of Leonardo DiCaprio and Johnny Depp plastered across my folder. Oh no. I got my Dad to photocopy cartoons out of his Farside books and I put those on in a tidy, OCD arrangement and then protectively cover sealed them. In the last years of high school I branched out to putting some Escher images on there as well. At the start of the school year, I would sit in the car on the way to school, bookmarking the pages I wanted Dad to photocopy for me, occasionally sniggering when I came across a particularly good one. Dad would always comment that the ones that made me laugh out loud were usually the sickest ones and to be fair, he wasn't wrong. (Although it's hard to go wrong with a good lemming suicide cartoon.) Well today I stumbled across something that reminded me of a mixture between Wylie Coyote and Farside material. Bunny suicides. They range from the simple to the very complex. I've sticking in an example of each here but check them all out.

beautiful people... running

In the famous words of Homer Simpson, "Who knew so much happiness could come in a plastic coated wire?" Yep, we now have cable at home and I'm like some 8yr old child. Or Homer, take your pick. Sean looks at me in amazed horror as I sit with my eyes glued to the set. I've told him not to worry, in a week the novelty will wear off but for now I'm overwhelmed by the choice. I can watch back-to-back Simpsons and Futuramas. I can watch The A-Team. Oh the glory!

And on Sunday morning I got to watch.... Baywatch. Oh the tacky glory! Oh the plastic breasts! Oh the high cut swimsuits! Oh the speedos!! Oh the muscley bodies! Oh the badbadBAD acting and stilted delivery! I like to think that I have good* taste but part of me has a decided penchant for the trashy and tacky. And Baywtach is all that and a bottle of fake tan. The episode I got to see (hey, did you guys know that Baywatch ran for 10 years? Holy Jesus! How did they manage that?) was one where the Aussie Iron Man team came to challenge the Baywatch Iron Man team. I spent 3 minutes staring at the TV in complete, total and utter gob-smacked amazement as they did this training montage that featured all the guys running down the beach, surfing, etc in their speedos. Those are some brave, brave men. And even more hilarious was that the Aussie team had bright red speedos with their names across both the crotch and the ass. I was laughing out loud. Loudly. And of course, there was a limo that had run into the sea (?!!WTF?! How did it get so far out that they had to swim out to deep water to rescue it?) so all the lads ran off to help and all you see is strapping man running along, shedding clothing as they speed to the rescue to finally jump in to the sea and the last thing you see as they dive under the water is their names stenciled on their shiny red speedo-clad asses. How can you top that? It was just all so bad. Bad plot, badly acted, bad bad bad but like a car crash, I just couldn't look away. In fact I may be back for more this weekend.

*it’s okay to like horrible tacky stuff if you know it’s horrible and tacky. It’s when you think it’s actually beautiful that there’s a problem.

the silver lining to a shitty shitty poo poo cloud day

Today has been a bollocks day for oh so many reasons but if ever something ridiculous were to cheer me up, it would have been this. In fact it was this. Giant pumpkins converted into boats have taken to the water for an annual charity sailing regatta. There are grown men who have carved out pumpkins and strapped on outboard motors. If this is not the height of glorious whimsy, I don't know what is. This is what life should be about folks.

sniffle snuffle snot

Well it turns out that what I had thought/hoped was just hayfever due to me getting used to dust/stuff at the new flat, is in fact a cold. It ambushed me last night and overnight I moved from the it's-not-a-cold denial to full blown oh-woe-is-me-sympathy-for-poor-widdle-Aynia-kins-the-world-is-about-to-end. I went out and bought some Satsumas at lunchtime and just about inhaled the whole lot in one sitting. They're all tangy and cold and perfect and I fill with Vitamin C just looking at them. I also have lots of lemons so it's hot lemon and honey drinks for me tonight. At any other time, I'd go home and feel sorry for myself there but we have deadline on Friday so that isn't really an option. *sob* *sniff* oh woe is me, etc etc.

damn I'm good

Last night, after a solid weekend of moving, I switched my brain off, collapsed on the sofa and watched 'The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen'. And proceeded to get excessively annoyed- not the film, (I'd wisely switched my brain off when I collapsed) but because I knew that I knew the actor playing Tom Sawyer from somewhere, I just couldn't place it. And it was KILLING me. Eventually I had to rustle up the 3rd regiment of the Denial Brigade to convince myself that I didn't really care and that it wasn't that important. SUCH a lie. But then I woke up this morning and it just popped in to my head: ER. It seems that as I was sleeping, the 3rd regiment was busy having a good old reconnoitre and ousted the culprit. Thank God. Of course I verified it on IMDB this morning. I knew he was from a TV series, not a movie and that he had shorter hair btu I couldn't pin it down. It was just hovering out of reach and taunting me. And get this, the actor, Shane West, was born exactly a year before me. He's hot and we have the same birthday. That's destiny. ;-) I mean look at that moody little pout he has going on. That's just cute.

As for the move itself? I am shattered. There are a tonne of stairs going up to our new place and my body is physically drained plus I've had late nights and early mornings and all I want to do is sleep. The whole moving in process was not helped by the fact that the flat had not been cleaned properly (which it should have been and we were under the impression it was going to be) so we had to clean as we moved in which makes things take even longer. It's also a bit weird- I mean I'm living with Sarah, who I've lived with for 1 1/2 years now and Sean, her boyf, who I get along with really well so I'm with friends and I like the vibe of the place but with boxes still stacked up in my room (as I wait for a desk to arrive- and maybe a bookshelf) and the newness of it all, it doesn't feel like 'home' yet. I'm gonna spend the rest of the afternoon convincing myself that going to climbing is the best thing for me as opposed to going home and collapsing on my bed. (Which is now a double and my old one was a single and I can starfish once again and it's comfy and in general I am rediscovering my love of The Bed.) Cable gets installed on Thurs so I will once again have a phoneline and more TV channels and broadband. Oooh the luxury. We had to buy phones for the flat and as Sean and I procrastinated, we set them up and you can even program the phones with names. For boring people this is probably meant to be according to someone's name, if it lives in their room, or by the name of the room it lives in but such humdrum naming systems are not for me and Sean. Oh no. Our phones are Bruce and Duncan (with one withering look Sean dismissed such classy combos as 'rattle and hum','bump and grind') and they have a different dial tone for internal calls (oh yes, we can call inside the house and use them like walkie-talkies) and external ones. This gonna be one supermegaübergeek household. Sweet. Although maybe I can talk Sean around to 'Ike and Tina' or 'Sonny and Cher'.... Hmmm...... But no. I like Bruce (he's my phone). Or more to the point, I like saying his name. It has to be said with an Aussie accent, there is no choice- so when I'm looking for the phone I can say, "Gidday. Have you seen Bruce?" Oh the simple pleasures in life. You wouldn't think I'm 27, would you?

Istanbul

was Constantinople but now it's Istanbul not Constantinople so if you've got a date in Constantinople she'll be waiting in Istanbul...

Oh yes. I am currently staring down the barrel of Friday but to lighten it all, I have the delightful nonsense lyrics of 'Flood' from They Might Be Giants in my ears. I love Amazon. It's like Christmas. AND I have the latest Pratchett now as well, 'Wintersmith'. Tonight is sure gonna be a battle. I'm meant to be packing and as that is happening people will be coming through looking at my room and I'm meant to be making a banana cake. (They're (the bananas) ready plus Sarah say's it'll be nice to have it (the cake) at the new flat once we've moved in (no argument here), but last night she offered to make it and I said no. As in NO. I practically barked it out. We both looked a little surprised. Sarah cooks and bakes well but my banana cake recipe is the schizzle and hers... well… it isn't as good. Which makes me sound horrible. So I told her she could make it but I like my recipe best as it was moister. (The only time it is acceptable to use the word 'moist' is in association with cakes. Otherwise it just sounds dirty/dodgey.) And I felt stink for saying even that.) Hmm... hope you guys made it through all those parenthesis okay, it was a bit of a whitewater rapid there for a while...

So here I sit, knowing that i can procrastinate and piss away my final hour of work (if God didn't want us to procrastinate, he wouldn't have invented the internet) but there seems to be this weird phenomenon whereby the list of small and insignificant jobs that you abandon on a Friday as not of immediate importance grow exponentially over the weekend and by the time you come in on Monday it's TOO LATE *stress* *stress* *panic* *panic*. And so I'd best get on to them. As for procrastinating when I get home... well as soon as I open the Pratchett it's all over so I'll just have to dangle it like a carrot in front of me: pack up your wardrobe chapter one! pack up your chest of drawers chapter two! clear out that storage space under your bed chapter three! bonus for already clearing all the stuff off your walls this morning before work go straight to chapter four! battle with that top drawer of your desk. In fact, in penance for reading two chapters in a row, do the whole desk well that's almost everything done, read another two chapters anyway.

I think you can all see how this is going to go...

T-2 days and counting

Last night I was meant to start packing because otherwise I only have tomorrow night. I say 'meant to' because, obviously, I didn't. Sean and Sarah decided to go to the movies so I decided to join them as I haven't been in AGES. We went to see The Departed. I knew ball-park what it was about but not much and it's a film packed with a whole lot of big names: Leonardo DiCaprio, Matt Damon, Jack Nicholson, Martin Sheen, Mark Wahlberg, Ray Winstone, and Alec Baldwin to name the big ones recognised. And I really liked this film. I've always been somewhat anti-DiCaprio and am somewhat apathetic towards Matt Damon (Team America World Police ruined him for me) but they were both good- great even. And Jack Nicholson was, as ever, a gem. It was not a happily ever after and I think that gave it even more impact for me- it's one of those movies that is staying with me for a couple of days. It's quite violent but has moments of the ridiculous and I highly recommend it to everyone except my mum because I'm pretty sure she'll hate the ending.

Kevin, my office source for cool links sent me this today. It's a YouTube vid time-lapse thing of a hot air balloon race and is sehr gut.

back to normal(ish)

I realised today that it's been a good long while since I've directed you all towards links or the weird and wonderful. I've been so caught up in The Dramas of the Life of A Noever that I've been remiss with keeping in contact with the surreal.

And I've found some doozies. :-) Unfortunately blogger doesn't seem to want to let me post images today (boo hiss) so I'll just have to direct you the old-fashioned way.

people who look like their dogs

quirky

just plain crazy

Tonight I go home and start packing. We're moving on Saturday and have to go to the agent's on Sat morn to sign our lives away and tomorrow I'm climbing which leaves me tonight and Fri night to pack. It's not like I have a lot of stuff but I know it'll turn out to be more than I thought so I guess it's best to start now. Woot.

who needs BT anyway

Sorry to hear you're getting screwed by NZtelecom hon but I'm glad that someone feels my pain. Sometimes I seriously wonder why thye makes this stuff so hard for us. Good customer service = happy customers = more customers. *sigh*

My problems (well at least the phone one) seem to be solved though. (Hoorah!) It turns out that our new flat used to have cable so we can go through the cable company and get phone and broadband and don't have to have anything at all to do with BT. Hazzah! AND- they can come in next Thurs which is a damn sight sooner. And so justice is served.

in the cold light of day

Looking back on yesterday now, it all seems a bit surreal. In fact things seemed surreal last night when I got home from climbing. Going climbing last night was, without a doubt, the best thing I could have done. It was 2 1/2 hours where, for the first time since I woke up (ignoring the hour at the gym in the morning) that I hadn't had my body 100% filled with anger. By the time I headed home, I was slightly pumped with adrenaline, definitely floating on endorphins and thinking back on what had made me angry seemed like looking at something through frosted glass. And this morning I wake up and I think, "Was I totally unreasonable? Is this all in fact not as bad as I had imagined? Did I overreact just a smidge?" Honestly, I don't know. I'm told by those around me that I handled the accumulation of shit dumped upon me yesterday just fine. (Nobody is saying 'very well'. A couple of my friends over here have heard me rant before but never seen me with such repressed fury and were actually worried for me. Hee hee. That's cute. Just imagine if I'd actualy Hulk-ified. Mwah hah hah.)

So all I really know is that today I'm back to my normal level-headed self. Which is fine, I like it better this way. Concentrated anger for over 8 hours straight ain't fab.

I feel ya

NB:
The pictures stopeed loading after one, so I will have to update this post later....

You know aynia, I totally feel you.
I was on the phone with Telecom NZ just last night. If there was another option of broadband provider (real options) I would totally change.
Basically we've blown our monthly cap, and we are falling over ourselves to give them more money to extand our cap- just a couple gigs more! please! However, the only way to do that is to change plans completely, and if you change your plan with telecom you have to be on that new plan for at least one whole month.
Which, as rude is this is, we could feasibly do, apart from the fact that telecom is rolling out a new plan at the end of this month with no cap, and no speed limit*, which we definitely want. But if we signed onto the couple of extra gig plan in the mean time, we wouldn't be eligible for the good no limit plan for a whole nother month! WTF
So I was on the phone to one of their operators pointing out the ridiulousness that is me pleading for them to take money off me, and all the operator can say is: "yeah, it would be cool if you could just buy more gigs, eh?"
ARRRGHHHFUCKING telecom!! I hate you I hate you I hate you! No wonder there shares are plummeting, with that sort of shitty plan system and customer care!
*lots of fine print about it all depends om how fast your wire can go, and peak times and other bollocks.
I think this little speil is as boring as hell when I look back over it, but I'm just commiserating with stupid big company rules.


ASPAs:
5 of us flew to Auckland for the event. We stayed at Base backpackers in cebntral Auckland. We bought disgusting Wendys late at night, we shopped at stores we could shop at in Dunedin, we looked at the Sky Tower, and then we all got tipsy and dressed up and went to the function.
At the function, student media prroved what booze hags we all are and got drunk quickly. Then some awrads were announce (including Colin 2nd for cartoonist, John Hartevelt first for Paid News Writer, Penny Colada's Behind Bars for Best Column, Dave Taine 3rd for News Volunteer,)
Then a band played, and they had a smoke machine. Which set off the fire alarm, which meant everyone was evacuated and the fire service showed up and kept us out of the building for a good 40 mins. awesome!
Then we all got to go back in, and the rest of the awards were announced:
(Best Feature writer RBH, Best Reviewer Aaron Hawkins, Editorial 2nd= for John Ong, and then Critic Best Publication!)
So, ,yes, we won best publication for 2nd year in a row - sigh* so validating.
You'll notice a conspicuous abscence of design awards. I maintain I was robbed. But if the design judges are going to overlook a complete smorgasboard of fonts on each page from some winners, and a distinct lack of whitespace, then so be it!
So here's some pics from the night:
(Yes! Thanks forasking! My jewellery, shoes lipstick and cardy did all match!)


Birthday:
I turned 23 on Saturday - it's a whole new world already I tell ya! Anji Sami had her birthday on the same day, so we combined our powers and had one mega potluck bbq at woodhaugh gardens.
The day before, Dunedin reached an astonishing 29!!!!! degrees! Wholly bajollies it was great. Then on the day of our bbq, the weather returned to its senses and pulled out some south westerlies at a frigid 9 degrees fricken freezing!).
Here's some pictures of that: NB: birthday steks that anji and I had, and cute puppy belonging to someone I didn't know.

for the love of Jesus!

So anyone reading these posts in order should, right now, skip down to the one below and read that first. This entry is a continuation of my Day From Hell series: Part2:Why BT are Satan.

I finally got through to British Telecom, using this neat feature called 'call back' where you leave your number and you stay in the queue but they call you back. Neato. And that's about the only neato thing about them. It turns out that the line at our new place hasn't been used for a while so they need to send out an engineer for maintenance and the soonest they can do that is, get this, NOVEMBER 13!. Can you fucking believe it?!! I sure can't. When they guy told me, I said, "Jesus! I mean sorry, I know this isn't your fault but do you mean to say that I can't have a landline until Nov 13? That's 3 weeks!" [and my skin started to turn a greenish hue and my clothes started to get a bit tight as my body expanded]

3 weeks!

So I phoned my current providers but, and get this, if I want a new number at my new address (yes please, the people staying in the flat would like to have the same number) it will take up to 10 days after me moving in for them to activate my phone line (10 days?!! WTF?!!!!) and there is the possibility of me incurring £100+ in fees. Fees for what I do not know because I'm pretty sure I was through to a call centre in India and I was only just making my wishes clear to the lady I was talking to and was only just understanding what she meant. All I know is that I told her not to change anything, thanked her for her help (which was none at all) and hung up. And then promptly started swearing with all the power of my Irish ancestry. I don’t think my workmates knew that I was capable of such language.

*deep breaths* I'm off to climb now, let's hope that helps.

paper cuts & lemon juice

I am currently on hold with British Telecom and typing one-handed because, awkward and slow as this is, it's v bloody uncomfy to clamp the phone against one shoulder as I type. But I am not a patient person. I type MUCH faster with two hands. So I'm swapping [Thank you for holding. We are very busy at the moment and apologise for the delay. Your call will be answered as soon as possible.] to the shoulder clamp and we'll see how long it is till my neck freezes up. [Thank you for holding. We are very busy at the moment and apologise for the delay. Your call will be answered as soon as possible.] Today I'm trying to swap bills over to over to our names at the new flat. I've done the water, got to go through a [Thank you for holding. We are very busy at the moment and apologise for the delay. Your call will be answered as soon as possible.] complicated menu system with British Gas only to be told that I had to call back after I moved in. [Thank you for holding. We are very busy at the moment and apologise for the delay. Your call will be answered as soon as possible.] Great. I think after I get this phone done, I'm giving up for the day.

There are high dramas with getting people for our rooms [Thank you for holding. We are very busy at the moment and apologise for the delay. Your call will be answered as soon as possible.] –swap shoulder – nope – feels too awkward, swap back – Fab. Now I just have deathly silence at the end of my line. Super. Where'd the annoying voice go? Am I still connected? Bollocks to this. Sarah can do it tonight. [click]

Today sees me at the angriest I have been in a good long while. I'm not going in to details because Dad and I discovered the other day just how it easy for anyone to associate me with this blog (I mean sure, I'm not being super covert or anything but still, I had no idea) so in the spirit of fairness, I'm not going to rubbish someone behind their back. But for the reference of the family, who have seen me at all stages of anger- I'm at the deathly calm stage. For the reference of the rest of the world, that’s the stage that usually precedes my Incredible Hulk transformation. I tend to be (I think) a relatively easy-going, laid back person (with a couple of OCD tendencies) and would prefer to take the path of least resistance so will tend to take a whole lot of crap and just adapt until finally I’ve had enough and then I tend to…um… well… explode really. I yell- very loudly and am generally quite irate. It’s a very concentrated outburst of anger and negative emotion and I know isn’t that pleasant to be on the receiving end of- especially as most people don’t see it coming because I’ve been so bloody adaptable and accommodating. I’m not saying this is the best way to deal with problems and I am actually trying to change things- like if I think it matters, I’ll mention things then and there, before I go all green and monster-like but it’s a hard habit to kick and right now, it’s the calm before the storm.

I am so happy that I'm climbing tonight. I need something really hard to try to get up and distract me.

-signing off with deep breaths-

the singularly most addictive game on the internet

Forget tetris folks. You can play Battleship online. Oh yeah. Needless to say, OCD me is hooked.

single white female

So Sarah and I have started advertising for our rooms. And by 'we', I mean I have posted the ads and I have fielded the phonecalls and I have answered the emails and I have arranged the times for people to come for viewings. (Which makes me sound bitter when I'm not- Sue and Sarah can't take calls at work and I can.)

Up till today, everything was pretty humdrum normal but suddenly, the emails I'm getting are like reading personals. And I really don't mind. If they were personals, I just might be writing back. (In fact my brain is already jumping ahead to the StrongBad-styled response...) Below are my two favs, names are obviously different and some details supressed because there has to be some privacy in this world, right?

guy #1
Hi, I'm interested in the double room advertised on Gumtree.
My name's Bob, I'm 28 and work in graphic design. I'm moving to London from XXX to start my new job at XXX later this month.
I'm really laid back, and I'm tidy about the house, I like to live in a tidy house. I'd like to find a house where I can get on well with my housemates and enjoy a meal and a sociable drink when it suits. I like to keep fit and try to go running when I can be bothered! I don't smoke and I'm vegetarian.
Thanks,
Bob

Dear Bob,
I am also in graphic design, I don't smoke and am vegetarian. This is destiny! What would you like to call our first child?
I would love to meet up for a sociable drink, this evening would suit very well.
Yours not at all desparately,
Aynia

guy #2
Hi there !
I've just read your ad and am interested. A 24 year old french professionnal newly arrived in London to start a job in richmond in the wine business. I'm well organised, serious, but prefer to live in an easy going atmosphere, and of course will regularly appreciate a nice glass of wine with my flatmates.
My interests : Sports, travelling, meeting people, movies, etc...
If you're interested, I'll be happy to give you other informations concerning myself.
I'm looking forward to hearing from you.
Froggy

Dear Froggy,
I also work in Richmond and would love to enjoy a nice glass of wine with you. I in no way hold your greeting exclamation mark against you (or the space before it) or the fact that you are French. This may previously have biased me but I met an absolutely charming Frenchman at a party the other week so am prepared to put the issue of the Rainbow Warrior behind us. Plus you guys do very good cheese.
I look forward to meeting you.
Aynia
P.S. I like red wine.

f*** you Natwest

Today was the final straw that broke this proverbial camel's back. I had to withdraw money this morning to take cash to the estate agents for our initial deposit and it was more than the ATMs will let to withdraw so at 9am I was infront of my bank to withdaw it in person and, while I was at it, apply for an overdraft. Well I waited outside with some other people and one person got let in for an appointment and then I was informed that the bank only opened at 9:30am today. Eh? It says 9am on the door... So I cleared out all the cash I can possibly withdraw from my two different cards and paid the agent. When I got to Richmond (where I work) I went to the bank to sort out the overdraft. I just KNEW it couldn't be that easy. No overdraft for Aynia because although I have a good salary going into one of my accounts, it's my savings and they won't/can't give me an overdraft on that (which I can understand) and they wouldn't give me an overdraft on my chequeing account because my salary isn't being paid in to it. Dude! It's all money at the same bank! It really felt like some sketch from Little Britain where the guy sat there at his computer and scrolled through stuff only to say, "Computer says no." AND- he asked me how much overdraft I would like- I said I didn't know what I was entitled to and he said they could maybe do £50. £50?!! I was thinking more like £500 buddy. What kind of safety net is £50?! It would apparently be easier to get an overdraft if I upgraded to an Advantage Gold account but I didn't want that as it's £10 bank fees per month and that's the account I was initially set up with but downgraded because I didn't use any of their silly services.

So I walked out extremely pissed off and decided that enough was enough with this bank and it was time to change. (There have been other minor incidents prior this and I'd put off changing banks because I'm lazy.) First Direct has been recommended to me by people at work and I checked it out online and they will give me £50 to swap to them, give me a £500 overdraft, let me withdraw £500 from an ATM and handle swapping over all my payments etc. It sounds like Heaven! And so I stick the finger to NatWest and move on to more customer friendly pastures.

You can get Trogdor baby clothes!!! Dude! If this isn't the übercutiest thing ever I don't know what is. Kitty- I thought of you immediately. ;-)

oh yes yes yes!

Kitty I killed our blog

So ever since my first existentialist post I've noticed that our viewer stats are down. I mean like waaaaay down. So either it's a phase, or people freaked out or I had a large religious audience which I shed in a most effective manner... Who knows? So sorry Kitty. It's all my bad.

On to happier things- it looks like, *fingers crossed* I will be getting my rooftop garden. We have to pay a deposit to the agency tomorrow to take it off the market and then it's as good as ours. I went to look at it this morning and it's a split level place with some people living below us and there are stairs leading to all different levels and although the living room/kitchen is a bit small, the whole thing is quirky and cool and just appealed to me immediately. So the picture to the left is of my blank canvas of a rooftop. I think it'll take me a while because, if for no other reason, I can't afford much at the moment. And we have winter coming on which isn't v conducive to pretty plants but I will have my wicked way with our rooftop foliage if it's the last thing I do. [insert evil, maniacal laugh] And it's a MASSIVE space. Yay!

And on to designy/arty/interesting stuff- this guy's website is really cool. It's like a portfolio and blog all together. I liked it a lot. He even named his beard and has a tribute page to it. When it started up with the music I burst out laughing. Now that is classy.

For the computer geeks- here's some post-modern art/ironic statement on society. Or it's just cool.


An on an architectural front- how cool is this?! I must have modernism in my soul- I just love it. That said, I don't think you could pay me enough money to live here. If it were just one house using this idea- definitely- but as an apartment block? No way José. I think modernist structures along these vein are also doomed to failure. Take Le Corbusier's - I mean they start off all cool and blocky and what we would now call 'retro' looking but 10-20 years down the track and those formerly pristine slabs of concrete aren't looking so clean any more. It's a damn shame when reality goes and tramples all over a perfectly nice design. Boo hiss to reality.

*implode*

This flat-hunting stuff is seriously starting to do my head in. Imagine if I were actually buying- *shudder*- no thanks. I looked at two places this morning which were alright but didn't grab me- if I could have combined elements from both there would have been something perfect but it doesn't work like that, does it?

The house where we stayed in Devon is occupied by an avid gardener so I spent the weekend trolling through books of eye candy. I'm not really a gardener- I mean I love growing stuff, I definitely love planning it all out (landscaping was one of the design avenues I contemplated trotting down before I settled on graphics)- it's just the maintenance and drudgery of weeding that holds little appeal... But there was a book on gardens created with pot plants and there were all these amazing ideas and arrangements and then Sarah called me to tell me that a flat she'd looked at that morning had a rooftop area..... Well you can just imagine the tangent that Little AyniaBrain went off on there. I practically have it planned out already. Apparently the estate agents aren't allowed ot advertise it as having a rooftop area because it isn't "safe" because it isn't fenced in on all sides so there's a nasty drop on one side- but you could create a barrier with pots... Oh yes, I haven't been in the place and I already want it bad. Sarah is worried that I won't like my bedroom and that will put me off but I'm prepared to be open-minded. The thought of outside space where I can swing my poi, not to mention created some swanky potted glory. Honestly, my daydreaming will be the end of me- it so often ends in disappointment.

So once again, I find myself going, "Please God (or whoever), please pretty please let this place be nice (oh yeah- another bonus, it's supercheap) and everything I want it to be and let us get it." Except then I realise that I don't really believe in God- or if I do, I believe there's about as much point in them existing as there is in my being here, which might piss them off a bit. My existentialism is at the point where I think Gods may exist, in fact I'm fine with the existence of higher powers in general and there being something that can stick in it's omniscient finger and stir things up a bit but, and here's the clincher- I don't think there's any more meaning in their existence than there is in mine. So sure, they can be all-powerful and all-knowing but when it comes down to it, there's not point in them being around either and if anything, their only meaning comes from what we give to them which means they need us more than we need them and that's not something that powerful beings would like to be reminded off or so I would think. So I guess I'm effectively shooting myself in the foot. Oh well. And so as I sign off, I cast a winsome smile heaven-wards and cross my fingers...

And finally- but most importantly- how, I mean HOW could you guys come down in favour of the blender? How does that work? A toaster would totally kick ass. And I know it goes against the grain for people to actually, God forbid, comment, but I'd love to hear reasons... I'll put on a new one tomorrow.

150!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

What better way to celebrate 150 entries than with a song? This is exactly what a girl needs on a Friday morning. When I came across this site, I immediately thought of Julie. I'm not sure why exactly- maybe coz it's funky, funny, cute and musical. ;-) This song is for you my sweet. (I make apologies if the playback makes things slightly out of time- I swear when I recorded it, everything was in time.)

This weekend I'm heading down to Devon with Lotte for a weekend in the country. We are anticipating a weekend of traipsing around the countryside in our gumboots, reading our books by the fire and lots of cups of tea. And weather permitting, I might even get to practice some poi. I'm so looking forward to it! British countryside! A fire! Gumboots and puddles! It's so nice to go away for a weekend and not have to pack fancy clothes, just the warm, comfy ones. I must have been quite a vision heading out this morning with my bright lime green waterproof jacket, light blue backpack and large red&white shoulder bag. I can't wait till it rains and I get to complete my ensemble with my black and white polka-dot umbrella! Sometimes I love giving the big finger to conservative Britain.

Oh yeah- remember the 80s? Remember diamante encrusted clothing? Well it's back. (Link courtesty of A Dress A Day.)When you check this out you absolutely must watch the sales video all the way through- there are some real gems there. I turned to volume down as I nearly died when the loud American sales lady's voice started blaring out from my headphones.

I laughed and I laughed...

I did not stumble upon this, it is a genuine Aynia discovery! This is a YouTube link to 'Purple and Brown' claymations. (I'd never heard of them before either.) It's innocent and harmless and fab. This one in particular made me laugh in a delighted manner for quite a while afterwards. It's always the basics, isn't it? Now I really want a digi cam and the time & patience to make animations.

an existentialist's conundrum

I should warn you now, this is a long blog and way more serious than normal. Feel free to skip to the end and I'll try to remember to put in some cool links to make up for me trying to be all serious and philosophical.

When I first arrived in the UK it took me 6 weeks to find work. In this time I had plundered what money I had brought over with me and I was at the point where if I didn't get a job by the end of the week, I'd have to change my return date for my flight home. It was that bleak. And, as you may imagine, somewhat stressful. And so I developed my new approach to stress management and about the only thing that would let me sleep at night- I reasoned that if I'd done everything I could possibly do that day towards dealing with stress-inducing things, and if it got to the end of the day and there was nothing more that I could do, then there was no point worrying about it. And so I'd sleep sound and wake up the next day to stress all over again- but at least I slept. This philosophy has proved to work exceedingly well and in a way I guess it is like "no point in crying over spilt milk". I can tell I'm getting stressed because it's like there's a tension or knot in my head that won't go away. So when that happens, I work out what I need to do that I'm avoiding (I'm a prime candidate for Procrastinator of the Year) and just do it and then I can stop stressing.

My discovery of my existentialist tendencies came maybe a couple of weeks after my new method of dealing with stress. Still workless, there was a lot of time for little AyniaBrain to think about life, the universe, and everything. This is a bit dangerous and I usually tend to try to avoid it. I'm sure everyone has thought about their 'purpose in life' at some stage, or something similar. You know, the whole this-is-what-I-want-to-be, this-is-what-I-want-to-do-with-my-life, this-is-the-kind-of-person-I-want-to-be stuff. Well one evening I was lying on my bed and staring at my ceiling and going through one of those meaning-of-life moments when this nasty little thought entered my head: Why?
Why what? I asked myself.
Why try to be a good person/live well/do the right thing?
So that I can be happy with my life.
So what's the point?
What do you mean 'what's the point'?
What's the point in living your life well if you're just gonna die eventually?
Um... because that's what you do? Sure, I don't believe in Heaven (because if you do, then you have to believe in Hell and I don't want to end up there), and am undecided on reincarnation and have no idea how I feel about an afterlife.
So what's the point in an afterlife?
What?!
What's the point? Why?
ummm.....
We're part of a larger whole? Cycle of life?
So what's the point of the larger whole?
?
What's the point of the universe? Why does life exist anyway? I mean what's the point?
[awkward silence]
Shit, you're right. There is no point. There's no bloody reason why any of this should exist at all!
I know.
Dude- even if there's a God, what's the point of God? That's just something that people use to give their lives meaning.
Tell me about it.
Oh my God, there's no bloody point to any of this. Fuck. That's a bit bloody depressing.
Sorry.

Well it went something like that. I still haven't ironed out the creases and at the time, I had no idea what existentialism was. As far as I knew, I was at home by myself and had decided there was no point in life, the universe, or anything. That's a scary place to be because in most cases, people who decided there is no point to life usually trot off to run a nice hot bath and take a razor blade with them. I'm an incorrigible optimist (ironic really because I'm also a total cynic) and this line of thinking was quite disturbing. Luckily, I'm also Grand High Commander of the Troops of Denial and it was decided that the best way to deal with this bothersome uprising was to put it far out of my mind as possible and not think about it again until I could talk to my Dad. Seriously. And I was even quite worried to talk to my dad about it because when you bring up a conversation with someone where you confess that you have decided that there is no point to existence, they're well within their rights to think that you're contemplating membership to the Bathtub Brigade.

But I did bring it up when I was home and low and behold, my father was not at all concerned, he was almost delighted- oh you've gone existentialist! We had a good old talk about it and personally it all sounds very PHIL103 to me. Because when you decide that there is no point in life, no greater and higher reason, the only meaning left is what you give to it. To me that seems slightly contrived and probably the only way to make yourself feel better but still... isn't life somehow more meaningful when it's you giving the meaning to it? I mean you can still give yourself a purpose in life and all that kind of stuff. I guess you could still be religious (just not most of them). But surely there's more meaning when everything to do and achieve is because you've made it happen. It's not God doing it, there's no 'grand design'. When you die, everything good (or bad) in your life, is because of you, not anyone else. That's quite a responsibility really. I can understand why most existentialists are a pessimistic bunch. There's a lot to get you down. But fortunately for me, I made it through 26 years of life with innate optimism and a generally cheery persona with an ability to laugh at almost anything. (Apart from Comic Sans, that is not funny. Not ever.) So I'm not too down about the whole thing. It's a bit of a mind bender though.

So why am I choosing to write about this now? Well this whole find-a-new-home thing is starting to stress me out a bit. We want to do it soon, we want to give a month's notice, Sean is moving down in 2 weeks, we don't want to put out Sue as we feel shit for moving out at the same time to live with not her. But home-finding is not easy. And so I stress. And so I try to implement life philosophy of stress management. And so I discover a conundrum- I don't believe in destiny/meaning of life/Fate. So how can I sit back at the end of the day, happy in the knowledge that I've done all I can and the rest is up to Fate when I don't believe in it? Interesting, huh? So of course I called Dad. He thinks a lot about stuff, he'd be able to help.

The result of the conversation was, as usual, more stuff to think about, but also this: just because you don't believe in an overall meaning of existence, doesn't mean that there isn't a natural rhythm to things. We almost started looking at it like an equation (and this is where it all got very übergeeky) and just because you've done everything you can, doesn't mean you've accounted for all the variables. (Not that I'm saying that there is an overall 'equation of life' or some similar bollocks because a mathematical point to everything (and here part of me starts thinking of 'Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy', 42 etc) is about as rubbish as God giving meaning to everything (sorry to my religious friends).) I don't even know if I'm making sense any more. What I did think was that if life is like an equation- doesn't that take all the mystery out of it? I'm an avid sci-fi and fantasy reader. I'm a dreamer. I refuse to believe in the non-existence of mystery. (Incidentally, my daddy blogged about this. According to him I'm highly intelligent and in my 20's. At 27 I'm staring down the barrel of 30 so I found this all very flattering. Love you D. x) In fact right now I have other things I need to get on with and I'm pretty sure everyone's fallen asleep by now anyway so read my Dad's blog about more on mystery. They aren't all my thoughts but they are interesting.

So in conclusion, for those who have skipped to the end and want a summary: I’m stressed about finding a new home but am dealing with it and along the way have had some deep and meaningful philosophical thoughts.

For more of the noraml styled blg content, check out this link. I mean WHF?

Also this guy's website has some cool drawings on it- neat little pencil sketches of people on the subway. Quite charming. (How patronsing does that sounds? Eeek.)

AND- for a seriously cool dance video thing, click here and then click on the YouTube video thingy. "...very unique group of performers known as the Chinese Disabled People’s Performing Art Troupe. A mouthful indeed. This troupe consists of about 21 men and women with hearing and visual impairment or physical disability. They have dazzled audiences in over 40 countries since 1987."

Peace out.

Oh and keep voting on that poll and Kitty don’t cheat by voting heaps of times to make it look like more people care. ;-)

back to stumbling

In a similar vein to making your own snowflake, you can now make your own kaleidoscope. How cool is that?!

But in more important news- MY CLIMBING BLING ARRIVED!!!! And here's me without a camera to post a photo because I know you all care so much... I'm still waiting on my harness but shiny climbing accessories are quite enough to make up for that for now. And, through pure luck, (or was it careful planning on Reece's behalf?) my ATC-XP and one of my screwgates match! For those who know me well enough, just imagine the fun that colour loving, OCD me is going to have with all my gear. Oh the hours angst and drawn-out decision making! Oh the agony! Oh the joy!

I'm not dead yet

It's just deadlines. Who'd have 'em? That's what I want to know. Two magazines going to press in two days is something less than fun. Almost not fun.

But first things first, cast your eyes to the right side panel and note that there is now a 'poll of the week' (which I really will try to change every week) and apologies for the somewhat lame-o start and if people have suggestion for poll questions (and answers) please email them through or put them in the comments section. And more importantly- VOTE! (Please. It'll make us feel special.)

I also have another dirty little confession to make- tonight I'm going to a concert for Pink. Yeah. Mmmm..... Kez wanted to go and nobody else could/wanted to and she caught in one of those already mentioned what-the-hey/carpe diem moments which I think shall be my undoing. So it's off to see Pink tonight. I swear that after this it's back to my Dunners Indie Rock wannabe roots. I'm nearly ready to disown myself... ;-)

Mmm! Don't you love the smell of fresh cut grass!

So if you want to read something so ridiculously silly you'll laugh out loud - click here.

Night of the Stars 2006

Oh yes! It's that time of the year again, when the gravy train pulls up to the critic station and lets out a big wahoooooo!
To kick off the season it was Night of the Stars (Oscars night for the Mothras, the student film making festival.)
This year critic snagged a table right up the front of the hall, and had lots of cheap wine, and bubbly.
We were all very merry, but limited our obnxious calling to "Yeeee-awwww" (instead of the "We love you____!" of 2004).
Kate dressed up as Audrey Hepburn, Alex Franzen was Elton John. I coaxed John into strapping suspenders, Anji was stunning in an olive dress/skirt (clever!) and I found a beautiful; royal blue poofy creation at an op shop that morning for $5.

Here are some photos of the night: I think the only explanation needed is: we drank alot. and yes anji is picking her nose with that statuette which John, Dags and Anji won for Anji's music video. and we ended up at vivace.







Also here is a picture from Night of the stars in 2004 - when aynia, hannah and i fake superstar vomited in the girls toilets (where are all the rest of these photos aynia? - I can't find them anywhere!)And here is holly and me at 2005 Night of the stars (notice exactly same outfit and hairstyle that i wore for both 04 and 05)

there's something out there for everyone

I haven't shared my stumbling gems in a while- probably because I haven't been stumbling. *gasp* shock horror disbelief I know. I've been too busy to stumble? Dude!

Probably because instead of stumbling I've been making snowflakes. (And I've been ultra-busy with print deadline looming.) I'm totally addicted. I love it. It's weird how there are few things as nice as getting someone replying to your 'flake and saying that it's pretty- it's so warm-fuzzy. So go draw a flake and tell someone you like theirs. Or email someone a flake- thanks Jo! xox

But I'm guessing you guys are still wondering what the kitty pic is for huh? Well it's not a return of the übercutie- this is from www.catsthatlooklikehitler.com. Yup. Cats that look like Hitler. Who'd've thought...

why does it have to be so hard?

I don't know why exactly I'm never happy with my haircuts. Not 100% anyway. I'll be the first to admit that maybe, just maybe I have unrealistic expectations. I have fine überstraight hair and if the 'maintenance' is anything more than combing it when it's wet and drying it in winter so I don't get sick, well it just ain't gonna happen. That does not however stop me looking at other people's hair with longing and thinking, "Sure, mine could do that." Not without some product and a fancy styling brush and at least 20 mins of patience.... Apart from that, I think I want stuff that if blatantly contradictory. I like short choppy cuts but need to have my hair long enough to tie back; I like bits framing my face but then I don't like it when it makes me lose volume from the front of my hair; I want cool funky layers but don't want to lost volume throughout. In fact it's probably all my fault that I'm never totally happy with my hair.

That said, I've had more trouble over here than back home. Back home I was usually 90% happy. Over here it's so bloody expensive that I was going to a place around the corner from work that did £13 Wednesday cuts where I got to have a Russian have-at my hair while little old ladies got their blue and purple set & rinses done. It was usually fine (80% happy) although I could hardly understand her so I’d just ask for 'the same but shorter- tidy it up please'. But this time I decided to try something a bit different so I thought I'd get a person speaking my mother-tongue to cut my hair. She was a lovely girl and we chatted away the whole time and I was so sure she knew exactly what I wanted. We talked layers, we talked length, we talked texture, we talked about dealing with stuff around my face- I really felt we were on the same page. One thing I had been specific about was that I wanted it choppy and textured at the bottom and when she went to whip away my cape with a "how does that feel" I gathered up the courage (she was the one wielding the pointy scissors and this was her creation) to say that I'd like a bit more texture and choppy bits at the bottom- by which I meant any at all because, apart from a couple of layers at the back and stuff framing my face (not as much as I'd asked for) the bottom was COMPLETELY STRAIGHT. And I hatedit. So she started and said, "Like this?" and I said, "Oh hell, go mad. Have at it." And even so, I'm sure there are still nasty, completely straight rigid bits hiding at the back where I can't see them. And how do I feel after all that talking and explaining and correcting? I'll tell you- like I have something the same but shorter. I walked out thinking that I could have got pretty much the same thing for half the price from the Russian. I give up. From now on I'll just wear a hat.

if life were a movie...

In the Metro the other day there was a section where people could write in messages to fellow commuters that they were too shy to talk to themselves. Some of them were kinda cute (I must be in a soppy phase again) and if life were a movie, they'd totally be hooking up. And so I share with you some of my favs:

To the beautiful, tall, slim, dark haired young lady with glasses that catches the Link 2 train at 8am to 8.10am each day and gets off at Maid Marion Way. This is from the blond, short-haired guy who gets on outside Victoria Centre most mornings. I'm wearing earphones and seem oblivious to the world. I'm certainly not oblivious to you. make my day and say hello, I'd certainly say it back...

This is for the shy, beautiful brunette who gets on the 59 bus every day at 8.20am. You usually sit near the back and I would really like to talk to you but I’m too shy to say anything. When you smile at me in the morning you make my day. I would love to talk to you to see how we would get on.

To the lovely lady who gets on the Tube at Clapham South around 7.40am. You're always waiting at the same spot either reading a book or newspaper. It's my favourite spot too. You have long brown curly hair and you always look amazing. When I get off at Bank you remain on the Tube, deep in your reading. It would be nice to get to know you.

I think they appeal because it's just so While You Were Sleeping.

FIRE!

The scrub behind Logan Park is on fire for the second time in about 8 years. Nawti pot-heads dropping their roaches in dry gorse!
Unfortunately it is a really really dry windy day in Dunedin, so there's monsoon bucket galore!