the entry that speaks of the death of Harry Potter and Bruno the Bear

I would never have promoted Metro as quality journalism and I know it's just meant to be the light and fluffy morning read on the tube but Monday's issue made me reallyREALLY annoyed. There was one feature with the heading "JK looks set to kill Harry". In it they write The 40-year-old said: 'I have never been tempted to kill [Harry] off before because I've always planned seven books.' Killing her star character would men other writers could not cash in on her success by writing a sequel, she added. Rowling, who was speaking on the Richard and Judy show, said: 'I'm not going to commit myself because I don't want the hate mail, apart from anything else.

I was soooooooooo angry when I read this. I mean how can she kill Harry just so other people can't write about him later?! How selfish and money-grubbing and horrible is that?!! (I'm being driven to exclamation marks!!!)

But then I happened to look on line for a link for you folks and came across this link. Now call me a pedant but there is a WORLD of difference between saying that you understand why authors kill of characters and actually saying you might be planning it. So I was all angry at the Metro for misrepresenting stuff but on re-reading the article, I do have to admit that I didn't see the Richard and Judy show so I don't know what was implied there.

The next thing to piss me off was the article about Bruno the Bear being killed. This was nothing against Metro, just stupid bloody Germans with guns. I mean the poor chap was just roaming around having some fun and if they were concerned for the public, couldn't they just as easily have shot him with a tranquiliser dart and relocated him. No. Of course not, they had to kill him dead. They probably have his head mounted in a pool room somewhere. Fuckers.

And tomorrow, with luck, you'll hear about me slumming it at the Spanish Embassy (not as exciting as it may sound). Ciao.

pause to inhale

God but it’s been a busy week. And it’s only Wednesday. I mean it has to be, I haven’t blogged since Friday. And now I have so much say and, as ever, so little time to say it in. My weekend was pretty relaxed without any big surprises. I was hoping for them but nope, no surprises for Aynia. On Saturday night I headed out with Kerry to drinks at the Boathouse in Putney. It was in connection with a friend of Kerry’s but we knew nobody there. So I was prepped to meet new people, have a chat, be all sociable. I’m currently implementing the policy that I should attend all the new event things I can because you can’t complain about not meeting people if you’re not putting yourself “out there”. So out I went. I swear I was not as cynical going in to it as the photo would imply, my cynicism was totally for the camera. Well it turned out that everyone was sitting down outside and it just wasn’t the kind of thing that was conducive to meeting new people so Kerry and I had a couple of drink, chatted to her friend and people beside us and midnight saw us back on her sofa, dead to the world. So the evening felt like a bit of a waste in a way but it was still nice and chilled.

On Sunday, a bunch of us went for lunch to this Thai restaurant in Fulham called the Blue Elephant. This place is sooooooooooooo supercool. You have to check out their images although the pages might take a while to load. Or maybe it’s just that my internet has packed up and gone on holiday today. In the evening, Bobert (aka Pirate Rob) arrived to crash on my futon for the night before he jetted off to NY. We settled in for a night of DVD watching with Rob’s choice Cinema Paradiso and mine, Everything is Illuminated. And I must say, we both made excellent choices. No room (or time) to write reviews or synopsis here so check out the links. Unfortunately, Cinema Paradiso turned out to be 3 hours long (bloody director's cut) so we only finished with it at 11pm. For a Sunday night, and taking in to account that Bobberino had to be up at 5:30am to get to the airport, 11pm sounded like a good time to go to bed. But when I suggested it, Rob said he’d like to watch the other film. He could see the sleepy look in my eye combined with resignation and he said, “You’re not about to be out-movie-marathoned by a boy are you?” Oh he knows the buttons to push alright. So shortly after 1am I dragged myself off to bed only to be jerked awake by Sarah coming home boozed and she banged around and talked loudly on her cellphone. Charming. (But seriously, both movies were really good, I highly recommend them.)

As a result I had about 3 hours of sleep and only just made it through Monday. And now suddenly it’s Wednesday. Where does the time go? Speaking of which, I should wind this up here and save indignant rants and further news till tomorrow. Ciao.

would you like some margarita with that gastronomic festival?

Last night, Natalie and I headed in to town for the launch of the Mexican Gastronomic Festival which coincided with the opening of a new Mexican restaurant/bar in town. We were promised delicacies such as:

• Guacamole Cocktail, a fine and delicious cold soup made of avocado, tomato, pinole (a regional Mexican seed) and fired tortillas.
• Flamed Prawns with tequila and mango sauce
• Deep fried birria flautas (lamb tacos)
• Jaliscan enchiladas
• Mini torta ahogada, a very typical urban delicacy from Guadalajara city made of a small pastry stuffed with potato and chorizo and finally soaked in a tasty chilli sauce

What we saw were mini enchiladas (which Natalie and I couldn't eat because we were vegies but that part was our fault so that was fine) and cornchips with salsa and guacamole. And an open bar. So I had a great night. Natalie, amazingly friendly and cheerful person that she is, met a girl at the bar who was there on her own so brought her back to our seats and we ended up having a great night and we plan to keep in touch. (No seriously, for real, not one of these superficial "I'll email you some time, we should catch up". We actually emailed this morning. Dude.) The bar itself was in a slightly dubious location but inside it was quite cool. It was all dimly lit (but not dodgy) with alcoves and fantastically comfy sofas and chairs. And there was one minibar that had only tequila- there were at least 30 bottles. And the drink menu prices! Eeek! There were shots (doubles) for £50 a pop. Crikey. I can't imagine spending that much money on a swallow of alcohol. (It should also be noted that straight tequila was not on the open bar drink list...) There was also a mariachi band for a while which was supercool and everone seemed very friendly and happy. (Probably due to the afore mentioned open bar and lack of food.)

So my night was great but I fear that my flatmate Sue did not fare so well. On the way home I checked my phone and it turns out that I'd set the video to record House and Grey's Anatomy(vital stuff) so she couldn't use the video and then when I got home, I set off our übersensitive fire alarm but overcooking my toast (and that thing is LOUD at the best of times, let along at 11:30pm) and then this morning I saw a note on the fridge asking if we'd used up her milk as she'd wanted it for something last night and there wasn't any left. (Not my fault, Sarah told the electricians to use our milk but they clearly ignored her.) I felt so horribly guilty that I took her washing out of the machine and hung it out and then did the dishes this morning, even though they weren't mine. And I left an apologetic note (which also explained that the electricians were the milk thieves and we would never be so rude).

only in britain...

At work the art department has a friendly squabble going as to whose turn it is to make tea. In fact it's not much of a squabble really because I do it most of the time but I don't mind as I'm happy to get up from my desk. And then today I get an email from Jon sending me to this website. Yep that's right, we now have an official tea club. Only in Britain man, only in Britain. On this website (for those not checking out the link in depth or at all), you specify what you want to drink, add people to your tea list and put in times which you would like to have tea at. Then you get an email when it's tea time. If it's your turn you're told what to get people, otherwise yo are told you should be getting your tea in 10 minutes. Something this übergeeky and OCD has to be admired. I am currently enjoying my first TeaClub cup of tea. Mmmm, tasty.

And if you guys want to see truly glorious dancing, you have to check out this and this. It's on YouTube (in true UK style, they're discovering the glory of this a wee while after the rest of the world) so I hope you have a good internet connection. If you don't, it's well worth the wait. Patience grasshopper etc etc. If I could dedicate my links to people, these ones would go out to my sister, Julie you will love these. I was left staring at amazing feats of 80s robot dancing with my mouth wide open. In fact that type of dancing is probably another example of übergeekdom. I should really make a t-shirt that says 'long live the übergeek' spelt out in scrabble letters (don't know how I'll handle the umlaut but I guess I could always Photoshop it in...) or something similar.

living on the fringe

Yesterday I booked my flight up to Edinburgh at the end of August. The Edinburgh Fringe Festival is running from August 6-28 and since August 28 is a bank holiday, it seemed like too good an opportunity to miss. And I get to stay with Aimee and Reece so no need to worry about finding a bed- and lucky thing too because otherwise I could have kissed my cunning plan goodbye. Apparently Edinburgh always fills up to the eyeballs for this thing.

I started by having a poke around on the site and, of course, checking out the merchandise shop. So now I have to decide which t-shirt I want. (Advice welcome although that would involve people commenting which they seem to scared to do. Pussies.) They even have badges. Whoopee. (And that's genuine, not sarcastic, I love badges. You all know that.)

What was daunting though was that I had no idea how to find out exactly what was on. I mean all the info is there on the website but you really need a programme to be able to leaf through so you can see everything at once. So I finally tracked one down on the website, or at least how to get one, only to come across this statement The Fringe programme is free. However, as it's so crammed full of show information, it costs us money to pack and post to you. Fair enough I guess and I'm sure there's some place in London where I can find them but that's a mission so instead I've coughed up £3.50 to have one sent to me. It's better be pretty.

It's all very exciting though, especially as I'm doing one of the things I really wanted to do while I was over here and it's nice to tick something off the list. (Not that I'm using lists any more Julie. ;-) xox)

foo fighting

I will get on to rabbitting on about the Foo Fighters but first I have to wail in distress because it turns out that I missed Simon Lynge playing in London. I'M SO UPSET!!!!!!!!!!!

The one and only time I have seen Simon was at a music night at the Bedford in Balham and I was captivated. You can listen to some of his songs on myspace. I highly recommend Beautiful Way To Drown which is one of the songs I heard him perform. It sounds alright all fancied up for an album but this guy acoustic and live is just breathtaking. Such a beautiful voice. It will be my eternal regret that I let Sarah drag me away before I bought a CD. I will definitely be ordering one when it comes out but as I said, nothing will beat him acoustic. He's based in the States so isn't here often- and I missed him. Trauma.

But on to Foo Fighters.


There were 80,000 people in Hyde Park, or at least the portion they blocked off for it. It was a hot and sunny day and initially I thought I would cook but it cooled down nicely. Queens of the Stoneage and Motorhead opened for them. They're a bit heavyrocky for me but we could hang at the back where there was room to sit and people watch. And oh the viewing we had. There were lots of guys running around with their tops off who shouldn't have been and women running around in bikini tops who shouldn't have been and tattoos galore. One of my favs was Brad's. At least I'm guessing that's what his name was because that's what was tattooed on his back...

This pic is in here for Julie. Look J, here's your lovely sister with people's bums behind her. :-)


Aimee and Reece- it was so good to see you guys again. It was also slightly surreal having Aimee sitting in my living room as we gass-bagged away our Friday evening. It was like no time had passed at all.



Aimee, me and Kez.














Me and Reecey. He's pulling that funny face because he has a lump of popsicle stuck in his mouth. You just can't see it so he looks like a spaz. ;-)




As for the band themselves, well I thought they were great. They opened with, predictably, In Your Honour and finished with a lovely slow version of Everlong. In fact I was prompted to enter into the murky world of the iTunes music store so that I could download that song. I've stayed away from it so far because I'm pretty sure it's a slippery slope once you start. £0.79 here, £0.79 there and suddenly you're racked up £10. I stuck to 2 songs. At least for today. Hee hee. Dave Grohl is just so charismatic it is hard to believe. That man is a God. Going in to it all I was a bit anxious, I mean 80,000 people is quite a few really- but it was totally fine. For most of it we hung around near the back where we could all laze around on the grass and then when FF started, some of us moved closer in. We ended up behind this guy who was hard-out air-guitaring his way through the songs. It was beautiful to watch. The crowd was really well behaved- I guess because everyone was just happy to be seeing the band- and we didn't lose anyone and it was a great night.

get happy

As I type, I am listening to "Super Random what Julie's been listening to, new music to expose Aynia to, and music from Julie's shows CD". My sister is nothing if not concise. ;-) Her birthday present to me finally arrived and it contained 2 pairs of cool undies and 2 mix CDs. And a card with one of those classically cute pics of us from when we were little. Check us out. We're adorable. Julie went through this phase when she was wee of staring at the camera with those huge eyes like she thought it might eat her. Supercutiepie.

A song which makes me think of Julie, even though it isn't on the CD, is The Beatles' 'Only A Northern Song': If you think the harmony, is a little wrong and out of key, then you're right, 'cause I sing it myself. When Julie and I packed Wanda up to the eyeballs and moved J up to Welly, she asked me (very nicely) if I could not sing along to all the songs all the way. There are times in her life when she's been less tactful about it. (Love you J. xox) I think I'm banned from whistling along to the radio (and probably quite justifiably) because I can't whistle for shite.

The football last night was an interesting experience. I sat in a pub where well over half of the people had to be wearing England support gear and sat through one V E R Y boring first half. The only highlight was Terry making this amazing save. The goalie was out of the way and Trinidad Tobago had a header going in when Terry leaps up and kicks it out of the way just off the line and went flying ass-backwards into the goal. Magnificent. I know words can't convey it (or at least not mine) but I've always been a sucker for athletic shows of male prowess and believe me ladies, this was one for the books. Things finally picked up in the second half and England ended up scoring two goals. When things got going, the atmosphere was great and I just had to laugh at these Brits jumping up and yelling in anger or joy. At one point a guy yelled out at Crouch on the screen, "Piss off you lanky c***!" (I'm not writing that word out in full. My mother reads this blog.) It seems like Crouch is quite a point of contention for England. Nobody really seems to like him and I heard all these comments about him looking like a freak and being a shit player and I didn't get what the deal was until last night. When you see pics of him on the news or in the paper, he doesn't seem that tall and skinny but when you seem him on screen- Jesus.Think Jack from 'Nightmare Before Christmas' running around in an England footie jersey. It's kinda scary. And he also seemed kinda shit, missing at least 2 goals with stuff that really looked like it should have gone in.

So yeah, a bit of footie fever has rubbed off but you won't find me wearing red and white any time soon. I just can't. I'm all for supporting England to win the world cup but when it comes down to it, I'm a Kiwi and there's no way I'm wearing another country's colours. And that's a comment I never thought I'd make. I know I've said it before but I'm not a patriotic person so imagine my surprise when I suddenly care about rugby games and start using phrases like "our boys"... It must be the being away from home that does it. At any rate, I can't wear an England t-shirt because I'm not British and it's that simple. Also my mother would probably disown me which might be awkward.

The good weather is holding out so far and the weekend's meant to be up to 27 degrees here so the Foo Fighters could be a sweaty affair indeed. Aimee's coming over to my place tonight as she was in town for a course and Reece arrives tomorrow. I only talked to Aimee briefly on the phone but already I can tell that after a weekend with those two and my accent will be sliding back in to strong NZ sounds. Choice bro.

nooooooooooooo

I just wrote this superlong blog and through some sheer act of stupidity, closed the window and lost it! Oh the trauma! I don't think I'll have the time or energy to recreate it all... BOLLOCKS!

Now despite my carelessly stupid act of closing down the window of my blog, I like to think that on the whole I'm a reasonably smart person. I can read between most lines, I can take a hint. I'm not a superstitious or religious person but I do believe in Fate. Fate gets a capital, A.A. Milne styles because, although I may not have any fixed ideas about any kind of God, I am cynical enough to believe in some horribly fickle higher power than enjoys sticking its fingers into my life every now and then and having a good old mess about. (Or maybe I just read too much Terry Pratchett and find the image of Fate, Luck, Death, etc gathered around a board game of life and rolling dice just too easy to believe.) But back to my story: This morning. I woke up still supersleepy and took twice as long as normal to get ready and was running late and needed to be at work earlier than normal and my hips were aching so I decided to take a day off from the gym which resulted in me heading out an hour later than normal. And this is the point where someone shoved their sticky fingers into my life. The bus took ages to arrive and when it did, it was jam-packed with brats off to school (never fun) and when I arrived at Putney, there were no trains going where I needed so I went to catch a bus but the traffic was horrible so I gave up on that and walked to the tube where, thankfully, things started to go right. So a journey that usually takes 30 mins took 2 hours. Woot. By the end I was casting my eyes upwards going, "Enough already! I get it! Next time I'll go to the gym!" Hrmph.

This afternoon, England is playing Trinidad & Tobago at the World Cup. Our whole office is clearing out in about an hour to invade some quiet and off-the-beaten-track pub to watch the game. You have to love these Brits and their footie. As I was coming back from lunch I saw a rubbish man walking down the street with his bin and broom combo and he had two England flags sticking out at the front. Bless. Only here man, only here.

And this is where I have to rudely and abruptly cut out. I have to get some work done before the game and I'll have to rehash all my other ramblings at some later date. So annoying. But I thought better to post this than nothing at all. Because I know (hope) some people check this regularly. Peace out.

smug

We had some bananas at home that were well on their way to a better place so last night I decided to make that better place my oven. I tried out a new banana cake recipe from the baking book Kerry gave me for my birthday and crossing my fingers, put it in my oven which I have a love/hate relationship with.

It turned out fab. No pics because I just did a light lemon glaze so it's nothing to look at but what would have been worthwhile documenting was the rate at which it disappeared once I put it out at work just now- it was almost inhaled. Everyone loved it and thought it (ie. me) was amazing so I am now basking in the warm glow of a successful creation. I will definitely use that recipe again. It uses sour cream which is something different for me but seems to be a good thing. In fact Kerry chose a bloody good book, if this one recipe is anything to go on. There are at least three recipes in there for gluten free cakes which of course makes me think of my Mum. I haven't had the courage to bastardise recipes of mine by replacing normal flour with soy or something simliar but now I have recipes and Mum will have cakes galore to look forward to when I'm home at Christmas, lucky lady.

hot

It's really hard to work in an oven. Near impossible even. Clara came back from holiday and I had to give her fan back which was a pretty traumatic and sweaty moment. Luckily I don't feel too self-consious because most people in the office have flushed faces with a gleam of sweat at the hairline. Even luckier is that we seem to have an office full of non-stinky people (or at least ones who have good deoderants), otherwise things could be rather Bog of eternal Stench-esque.

But apart from being hot and sticky, there isn't really much to report. I haven't even checked out any funny/cool/gross websites recently and my biggest complaint is that there hasn't been a new Strongbad email for weeks. I've been getting back in to Trogdor though. I tend to play it heaps for ages and then I tire of it and then I leave it for months and then suddenly the joy of oodling around a screen, burning peasants and wrecking havoc, returns in full force.

so this is 27...

I think the strange thing about birthdays is that one minute you're one age and WHAM! the next your suddenly one more. At least on paper, at least when you're talking to people. When I use the crosstrainer at the gym I now have to enter my age as 27 whereas just last week it was 26. Luckily I'm not in a quarter-life crisis or anything, I'm just saying- it's strange.The party went well on Saturday- it was a scorcher of a weekend and it was so nice to enjoy my birthday outside for once. Back home it always falls in exam time and it's winter and nobody wants to go out. Over here, we stayed out all night. Kerry and I had to ditch the moustaches after a while as they were itchy and you couldn't really talk or laugh or smile or eat or drink with them on. Luckily the ponchos were of this really light material, otheriwse we would have died.The piñata was a huge success- I couldn't belive that 90% of the people there had never heard of one before. I guess that's what you get for growing up in the southern states for a while.

Here are me and Alan. We all decided that he looked freakishly right with that mo and that this will be what he will look like when he's 50.





Mandy, Kerry and Sue- the moustaches tended to make the rounds over the course of the night.





And Lotte came too YAY! So nice to have another Kiwi around and she got a good dose of Saffas.






In the middle is Kerry's flatmate Phil who is every bit as tall as he looks in this picture- even though Kerry and I are not tall girls.

And that's the photo essay folks. I'm afraid I'm not feeling very eloquent today because it must be over 25 degrees in our office- apparently it's 30 outside. It better not be this bad next Saturday or I won't make it to the Foo Fighters, I'll have melted into an icky pool of AyniaGoop™.

the tip of the iceberg

If Becca was worried about my custom-made computer hood yesterday, I can only imagine how she feels about the handles I manufactured for my boxes of decorations...

Kerry and I ordered decorations online for our Mexican themed birthday party and the finally arrived today (just in time!) but I hadn't realised just how large the box would be (there's a piñata and some sombreros in there) and I have to get a train and a bus home so I went all MacGyver with the cellotape and made myself some handles. It's just sensieble really. I haven't opened the box yet, I'll do that when I get home but I know there's a 20 inch high inflatable parrot with my name on it. I mean how could I say no? There will be a full debriefing with lots of piccies on Monday. Till then, I eagerly await cards and texts...

a whole bunch of hoopla

It seems that if Britain isn't going on about Wayne Rooney's foot and the World Cup, they're talking about Brad & Angelina's baby. I mean what's the big bloody deal?! In the lead up to the birth, the media (well at least Metro) mocked Namibia, calling them star struck and going on about how the nation wanted to declare a public holiday when the baby was born and give it citizenship. But the irony (hypocrisy?) of the situation seemed to elude the British press. So Namibia isn't allowed to make a fuss about the baby and you are? Pardon? Today the media is filled with news of the sale of the first images taken of the child. Enough already! Who cares? It's just a freakn' BABY. People have them every day. I throw my hands up the in air in frustrated disgust. Get a life people.

And in other news, today the art department became aware of my obsessive compulsive tendencies. Or at least they got a hint of the beast that lurks beneath the surface. I had to make a hood for my iMac because light reflections and general glare were mucking up how I viewed images. It had to be kinda huge and it ain't pretty but it does work. The part where I freaked out people at work was where I measured out and cut a slot in the side of the hood so that it didn't cover up my CD slot. It seemed perfectly bloody logical to me. I mean what else was I meant to do? Or maybe the scary part was that it's a perfect fit and I'm inordinately proud of it. Well at least I think I'm cool.

I want my sensei!

Last night I went to the martial arts place for that free session and was quite gutted. The people seemed great, exactly who I'd want to train with but what they teach is 90% kickboxing and I was not told that when I talked to the bloke on the street. The instructors have a range of backgrounds but what they're teaching is kickboxing. They do some other things like weapons and forms and, when they get mats, jujitsu, but those classes are for the advanced students. They want everyone to do this 6 month basic programme first which I kinda understand because it means they know that everyone knows the basics but I'm not going through 6 months of kickboxing just to touch a weapon. So I left kinda miffed as I felt that I'd been misled but I was also quite bitterly disappointed- I hadn't realised how much I'd been building this up for myself and how much I wanted it to be right. I really do miss training. I was sitting on the train on the way home and thinking, "I just want what I had at home over here." Boohoo, woe is me, stomp my foot in frustration, yada yada yada. And simply doing the kicks and basic stuff, I realised that though I may be going to gym every weekday and stretching and doing yoga once a week, my kicks (which were never fab) are now utterly shite and while I thought my flexibility was okay, it would seem that my body has got lazy when it comes to using certain muscles in certain combinations. And I missed CSI. Hmpf.

At least I'm booked in for a taster session at an indoor climbing wall and once I've done that, I'll book in for a beginners' course. I know I want to do the course but I'm doing the taster thing with a girl from work as she's never done climbing before. That should help with general balance, body coordination, flexibility, and strength (esp in my upper body) so that's something. In fact I was quite excited about the climbing thing when I booked it but now I'm just feeling a bit jaded and cynical (for those not in the know, on most phones, my name comes up as 'cynic' in predictive text. Coincidence? I'm not so sure...) at the moment.

Thou clouted hedge-born baggage!

Once again, a unique link from my anonymous source. How does he find this stuff? Want to feel educated while you insult people thou vain toad-spotted minnow, thou saucy guts-griping hedge-pig. I say you, minion, are too saucy.

The sun is shining, our office is horribly hot (and apparently it will only get worse) but at least it means I can relax on the green after work before I head to this martial arts beginners taster whatsit. The good weather is meant to stay through till next week which would be nice because Kerry and I are celebrating our birthdays together at her place on Saturday. I could get used to having a birthday in summer, it's definitely better timing than back home when it's cold and nasty and smack bang in the middle of exams. Hmpf.

Sunshine makes so much difference in this place. Suddenly I want to go outside and do stuff. That's quite a novel and empowering feeling after a winter of hiding inside. Below are some pics of sunny London from when I went to Tate Modern last Sunday with Lotte.

spud wars

I came across this in my web adventuring this morning and nearly died of hilarious cute overload. I mean look at him. LOOK. It's a stormtrooper but it's a potato. That's brilliant. His gun is a potato masher. Genius.


But it doesn't stop there. Oh no. They've even got R2 Potatoo.


And Darth Tater.Glorious.

sweet mother of God

We have a guy at work who manages to find the coolest websites ever. He brought me the Simpsons and Southpark dress-up sites and now he's brought me All your favourite 80s pop videos in one place!The music decade of all musical decades, the birth of the pop video as we know it today....

I've only had a brief perusal so far but for weirded out, try Glutamato Yeyé - ¡Hey tio! There's everything from New Kids on the Block and a Cocktail classic to Pink Floyd. Enjoy.

I sit here, listening to 'Pegasus', happily enveloped in the warm and gentle sound of home. When I first came over here, it was a good few months before I could actually listen to these guys- I'd just get all homesick and weepy when I listened to them. That took me quite by surprise because although I really like their music and went to their gigs, I didn't know how strongly I associated them with NZ/home.

The gig last night was great although they played quite a few new songs and personally, I'd have really liked to hear stuff I know so that I could sing along happily. That sounds horrible of me, doesn't it? New stuff was good though, lots of stuff they called ballads that ended up with some pretty darn angry "crooning" at the end of them. :-) They did however open with 'Sister Risk' and close with 'Going Fishing' so that's all good.

The night before the gig was also interesting- in an Aynia kind of way. I spent the majority of my tube journey staring at the shoes of the woman opposite me. (Check me out with my stealth photography) So the top of the lady looked like this- plain old boring comfy pastels but then you get to the shoes.I mean DUDE. It's not like they're a total abomination but I spent almost 20mins staring at them and all I could ask was, "Why?!" The stripy socks are in keeping with the rest of her colours but what the f*** is with that stripy band and that horrible bling? Never mind. I had to put it down to variety being the spice of life and if everyone had the same taste, this planet would be a boring place.

And I had to put this one in because I found it amusing. This is a poster that was in the girls' loos at the venue last night. I know band names must be hard to choose but 'fuck shovel'? How do you answer your granny when she asks what your band is called?

you have been warned

My birthday is on June 10. And although I don't expect cards from everybody, it would be nice to get some- quite a few even. If you send them off soon they should get to me in time. And texts are cool but cards are better because although I have been told that all of life is not a competition, Sarah got a shite load of cards on her birthday and I would like to appear even more loved. :-) Shallow? Perhaps. But I'm cool with that.

Phoenix Foundation tonight YAY!!!!!!! Expect a star-struck blog tomorrow.