learning from Calvin

This is the kind of day I've had, hence my cop-out of a blog entry.
But when I was searching for a suitable cartoon I came across this one which reminded me how much I DO need a haircut. I am very Cousin It right now.

And finally this one, because it's cute.

Lazy blog sorry.

So I blogged here again finally, which shall give you some kind of update as to what is going on at the office. Basically same ol. same ol.
I must commend you on your plumbing nous Aynia, and yes, 'stopcock' is fricken hilarious.


The other night while a ceratin someone was proofing, I was blogging on this site. Then he suddenly finished so I had to do some quick outlining/.pdf-ing, and when I got back to his computer he had closed the window because he "didn't think I was using it anymore"... Hrrmmph.
It was basicallly about the Las Vegas hotel Excalibar, and how awesome it looked. I did all the virtual tours, including the one where you could see what an Excaliber wedding would look like!

Also:


aweesome!

the legacy of MacGyver

Well I had an eventful weekend. On Saturday night, after a leisurely evening of DVD and TV watching with Sam, I came home to discover that we had a leaky pipe. I went to get a clean dish cloth from under the sink and when I took the packet out, they were wet. So there's me standing in my kitchen at midnight going, "Hmm... there shouldn't be water under my sink... Soddit." So I took out all our cleaning products, wiped everything down and dried it and then located the leak. A few half-hearted attempts to tighten the screw/tap/thingy came to nothing and I didn't feel like putting some back in to it because water pissing all over me and my kitchen at midnight on a Saturday did not seem the ideal way to spend my weekend. So I stuck a plastic bag under it and bowl and went to bed. When I woke up the bowl was full- all 2.5L so I decided to get a bit inventive. I stuck a bucket under the sink but it didn't fit under the leak so I rigged up a little ramp/funnel thingy out of tinfoil that ran from the pipe to the bucket and et voila! The day was saved. (Or so I thought...) I'm telling you, some duct tape and a bit of fertiliser and I could have made a bomb.

So I rang the landlady, told her about the leak and went on my merry way. Arriving home at 5pm, I saw the bucket was full so I emptied it out and two hours later it was full again. Oh dear. So I called the landlady again and we decided to turn the mains off overnight so the bucket didn't overflow. Goodluck. TUrns out we've got some hella dodgey piping in our flat. No stopcocks in sight and no way to stop water leaking. (This was also the first time I ever had to find/use a stopcock or even say the word and I was tired and trying not to laugh. What a funny name. Stop. Cock. Hee hee) So I did what any girl would do in this kind of situation. I called my Dad. Stopcock located, eventually managed to turn it off (this took several attempts and I am not a weak person, I swear this thing was rusted in place) and I went to bed to sleep the deep calm sleep of those who know that they will not wake up to a floor full of water.

As of yet, I haven't heard from the landlady so I'm just hoping that she has indeed come by and fixed it- or at least looked at it and booked someone to come in and fix it. If not, she will be dealing with a not so cutey-cutey Aynia.

If you were a Simpson's character, what would YOU look like?

I had comtemplated posting a picture of my resculpted leg- I even took a photo at home. Actually I took more like 10. Ones taken looking down my leg made my ankle look fat, ones taken looking up my leg just made it look freaky and ones taken directly above the wound got whited out by the flash. But then I decided to get a life...

Salvation came on Friday afternoon when one of the guys at work pointed us all towards a site where you can make your own Simpson's character. It doesn't have a great range of options for the ladies. You're gonna look pretty hein no matter what you do but I did get to have blue hair. In fact I couldn't decide so I went for two.

Better than this though was the create-your-own Southpark character. This one is totally awesome and offers hours of fun for all the family. And you can accessorise (not that I did). Enjoy!

Viva Las Vegas

I thought it was time for a bit of Calvin & Hobbes. I had a free 10 day trial at Ucomics where I got sent one C&H cartoon every day and this is my last one. I have a great fondness for C&H. There are a wide range topics and it's hard to say which is my favourite. I love the ones with the snowmen, the minimalist ones, examples of Calvin's evil genius, his alternate realities or just the simple ones involving a boy and his cat. (As a side note, once my free trial runs out, these links may not work so get them while they're hot folks.)

I know I have already mentioned my talent for leaving my backpack behind at the pub after a couple of quiets with workmates but this morning I exhibited my other talent- resculpting my ankles with a fresh razor blade. I think those fuckers are blood thirsty because the number of times I have carved chunks of skin out of my lower shin/bit on the outside of my leg just above the ankle bone can be counted by the scars that I have to prove it. I don't know why this happens to me (apart form me being totally un-co and retarded) but this morning- at the gym of all places, I decided to deforest my legs and next thing I know, I'm pissing blood all over the shower stall. Well that's a slight exaggeration, it was just doing the nice razor cut trick of enthusiastically dribbling down my leg. It's bad enough doing this kind of thing at home but I didn't really feel like scaring the other women in the stalls beside me as red-stained water flowed past them in the drain (again I exaggerate but still...). I even had to go to Boots afterwards and buy Savlon and a Band-Aid strip. Oh the indignity.

But enough of my unmarketable talents- for the next five days I shall be living out my life trying to ignore the fact that my flatmate Sarah is in Las Vegas. That's right folks, she and her buddy decided to jet off to LV for a Bon Jovi concert. Why? Because they could. They're both travel agents so I'm guessing there's some kind of discount in the works somewhere but still... Dude. Jealous. Vegas. Wow. They are staying at The Excalibur which apparently has a male stripper in the foyer. Oh Vegas you are so classy. I think the Excalibur looks absolutely glorious and my enthusiasm may have scared even Sarah. I mean look at it. There is no way you can tell me that that is not a thing of beauty. Neon coat of arms decorate that walls AND, Sarah's book tells her that every hour on the hour, a mechanical dragon comes out and has a battle with a mechanical knight. Oh the glory. Since looking through Sarah's books and brochures, I would have to say that LV is now pretty up there on my list of places to go if I'm in the States. I'm not that big on crowds and don't gamble (I suck) but when one place has SO much glorious kitsch and tack and on such a grand scale, surely you owe it to yourself to witness it in person.

it's not a habit it's cool I feel alive

I've been aware for quite a while now that I actually NEED to go to the gym in the morning and it's not just guilt that's making me go, it's something else. But what? Well this morning I figured it out fo' shizzle. I was slogging away on the cross trainer, complete with super-trendy iPod in its armband, feeling quite tired and grumpy and hot and sweaty when suddenly the song changed on my iPod and WHAM, it hit me. Endorphins.

I like them. I like them a lot.

And then I knew for sure what I had previously expected. I'm not getting up at 6:45am every weekday for my health, it's for my daily injection of endorphins. One minute I'm some sullen lump on a machine and the next I'm this smirking athletic body racing off to some nirvana with scantily clad, buff young men.

What I can't seem to figure out though is exactly what sets it off. The funny thing was that this morning I was listening to songs which usually get me going at a fast and happy pace but this morning they just didn't seem to be working and I was resigned to a hard slog. But then it kicked in. It doesn't always happen at the same time or when I'm doing the same type of exercises or when I'm listening to the same song. Maybe my body's keeping me guessing, trying to add a little spice to my life. And to be honest, I don't really care. As long as the endorphins kick in, this girl is happy.

At the same time, I'm in no danger of becoming a complete junkie and spending 2 hours at the gym every day, just to get my fix. This is for at least two reasons: 1- I would have to get up earlier in the morning and that is so not happening 2- my body just wouldn't make it. I'd implode and if that didn't happen then limbs would start to drop off.

Oooh and I nearly forgot something I meant to mention yesterday in connection with the Oscars- Keira Knightley is a fake. For years now I have only just made it through movies she is in because her accent pisses me off SO much. She has the kind of ponsed-up hoity-toity British accent that non-Brits put on when they want to pretend to be upper-class and I've been thinking to myself, "That cannot be real." And guess what? It isn't. On Monday night there was a section of the news dedicated to the Oscar awards and there was a part where they talked to Keira who was all excited about having sat beside Jack Nicholson and when she opened up her mouth to talk, out came The Broadest Accent Ever. Hell yes, I love being right. I can understand how she may have had to tidy it up a bit seeing as she's been in several period dramas but dude, it is NOT her real accent. And you know what, it actually made me like her more. It's quite cute/funny when this delicate and sophisticated looking thing opens her mouth and out comes this broad and kinda nasty British accent. Bless her. This will not however not stop me being super annoyed whenever I hear her talk in movies in the future.

it ain't me babe

Well I had a relaxed and movie-filled weekend. On Saturday I finally got to see 'Walk the Line' which I just loved. Reese absolutely deserved that Oscar (in my oh-so-educated and acting-savvy opinion) and almost stole the movie from Joaquin. As a result I had Johnny Cash songs stuck in my head all weekend so spent almost all of yesterday listening to Cash as I went about my work. And although I knew and liked his songs before, this movie has given me a new appreciation of them. If you haven't seen it, DO.

I had planned to do an indepth foray into Chinatown's supermarkets on Sunday but Pirate Rob wasn't really in the mood although we were both mesmerized by some tacky waving cat statues. I'm sure they're something symbolic and traditional but they just made us laugh. So instead of loading myself with rice products, tofu and unidentified dried vegetables, we got Rob a new mouse for his computer and then went to see 'Syriana'. I haven't seen a movie like this in a while- like since I left NZ- since this is the kind of movie I go to with my Dad. The movie was almost ruined by the fact that Rob and I had been talking about 'Team America World Police' just before the movie (Rob had watched it again a couple of weeks ago) and then we sit down to this serious movie and on walks Matt Damon and Rob and I start sniggering. Luckily we settled down quite quickly.

And today has been a really good day- I've had 2 woffy (warm and fuzzy feeling) moments but one is private and the other would sound like I was bragging but still, two special things in one day. That ain't too shabby. And don't get your hopes up Kitty, they're not boy related. ;-)

Shame!

I though of a *fricken hilarious* visual design gag this morning in the shower! (Awwesome!) And when I say "fricken hilarious", I of course mean, not really funny at all ... infact pretty lame.


Are you ready? ...

My collection of whitespace:

35 sleeps!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Not that I'm counting or anything...

Poor Kitty for Critic-induced sleep deprivation. At least you have a weekend coming up. You could sleep for 48 hours straight if you needed to. I do hope you are keeping up the tradition of the dance break while the editor is proofing. Oh and those new iMacs- v sexy. In fact that's what I'm using at work. And they take up so little space! Just watch how much RAM you get with them because mine only came with 256 megs and had to be supersized so that Photoshop didn't take like a million years to open an image. And it's also slow for just general editorial stuff too so just be aware of that.

I'm looking forward to a weekend of not being sick- in fact I have plans for dinner and movies with the girls and catching up with Pirate Rob on Sunday. Hopefully more crazy "art" pictures from those escapades.

I need a neck rub and some voltaren gel

Now, Aynia, that is just insanely luxurious by the looks of it!

I've decided that when I come stay with you, we shall travel some of europe, particularly visiting this hotspot of bliss! Babies! Swimming pool! Sun! heaven!

It has been a rough last two weeks with Critic. The late nights have been extreme, and the issues relentless, plus I'm being tested for a revisit from the glandular fever fairy -- suck!

One thing that has been on the back boiler is the prospect of getting shiny new computers in the office. Lots of them! That would be awesome considering, the present gaggle's age, the hassel of beefing them with ram and memory, and the promise of technical lads doing ALL the re-networking and file backups. Heck they may as well do my job for a week.
The plan is to do a simultaneous trickle-down/broad sweep effect with new comps. Leave the G5 for a year, and replace G3s, then when Adobe put out their intel compatible CS Suite at the end of the year, upgrade the G5 to a pro, and pass present G5 to Ad Designer. So I'm thinking lots of shiny imacs, no more unexpectedly quitting, and fast fast fast. Letting the editor deal with that whole, you know, "money" thing.

Sheesh! My post is boring compared to yours Aynia! It's just because I haven't been anywhere else but home and the office all week, which is a mere 622 steps in total. The post office is inbetween, so whenever I go pay a bill, it's a really exciting detour, and proves how much I need to be getting out a bit more.
Will keep pestering Straylight for virtual Critic mouth-to-mouth, there has been a lapse in functioning somewhere...
Otherwise, y'all can email your street address hasty-like, and I'll send some your way!

Waiting fro some proofing to finish...
too doo doo do do do...

dum dee dumm daaaa...

Coming soon: More exciting weekend post next with pics, I promise!

eat my bib

So. Portugal. Well as you can see from the picture, Cathy's house has an AMAZING view (in fact the entire house is amazing). And I will definitely be back there is summer to soak up sun and frolic in the pool. The whole thing just was as restful as I might have hoped. In fact it wasn't really restful at all- poor innocent Aynia had no idea how much energy a sick 1 1/2 year old and precocious 3 1/2 year old can use up. I got to feed kids, change nappies, be a gate, read books, sing to ears that are too young to realise how crap I am at it, blow bubbles, be a human climbing wall and so much more... But I wouldn't have swapped it for anything. If the photo of my and Daisy looks like it was taken in a public toilet, that's because it was. She was sick and didn't like it when Cathy had to palm her off on to me so I was trying her keep her happy/distracted by taking photos of us. As you may gather from the photo, she wasn't buying it. That child is also attached to her dummy in a way that could only make me think of Maggi Simpson, it only came out to eat or drink- so hilarious.

Portugal itself is beautiful. This photo is from a walk I did by some natural springs. It was quite like NZ- in fact a lot of the inland stuff I saw was very like NZ but the coastal areas are totally different. What I loved about Portugal's coast was that you get this totally weird juxtaposition of plants. You get prickly pears and other cacti and then beside that a palm tree and looming behind them all, pine trees. It's all very green and the buildings are white with terracotta tiled roofs and arched doorways and entrances and gave me the wonderful peaceful feeling that I remember from travelling through Greece. Roll on summer!

help!

The Homestar Runner website is having a sale on their messenger bags and I've got me a massive hankering for one. It's the accessory for every girl. And boy. But which do I choose? I think I've ruled out the Homestar one because it's blue but do I go for grey or timeless black? And if I go grey, do I go for Strongbad or The Cheat? Oh the choices! At the moment I think my choices are between The Cheat and Trogdor. Which do I choose?

woe is me

Well this is where I spent my weekend folks. Please note copious amounts of drinking vessels, wooly blankets and the roll of toilet paper. Yep, after getting back from Portugal, Fate saw fit to knock me out for all of Saturday and most of Sunday- I didn't budge, just curled up and felt sorry for myself. I did get a whole lot of DVD & TV watching done though so at least there was a silver lining. My Sunday afternoon was an eclectic mix of The OC, Stargate, Enterprise, Calamity Jane (gotta love a musical) and Maverick. Who'd've thought you could get an almost 7 hour run of ok TV? Since I felt better for most of yesterday I thought I'd put things to the test and go to the gym this morning and I'm still standing so I guess I'm better.
More on Portufal later, plus pics, right now I need to get some work done.

first issue arrrrrghh

So right now i'm in the middle of putting together the first issue for Critic 06. It is (ofcourse) a nightmare, and I wish now I had saved more money last year and decided to travel all this year. How nice it would be to be somewhere like Portugal... Or maybe working on a cruiseship making shandys for retired people.

In the course of obligatory procrastination, I insisted that the office be completley shifted around-- I'm really into my open plan, indoor-outdoor flow and all. I also got crazy with the gaff tape for all those fricken cords.
Here's a photos of the result. It still looks like the office has heaps of crap in it, but really we threw out heaps.

Perhaps even the OSX 10.3 cd which has gone missing. Fantastic.

NB: Kate working under her desk at the right....

ba humbug

As much of a horrible commercial farce as Valentine's Day may have become, yada yada yada, so has the act of complaining about it become a total and utter cliché. Valentine's spam, emails from my picture libraries of special Valentine's Day image collection (vomit and delete), everyone having plans with that "special person" in their life- except me. Bitter old woman much?

So to make ourselves feel better, me, Mands, Sue and Kez all went out for dinner. (Four singleton females all out for dinner together on Valentine's Day to make each other feel better- also a horrible cliché I know.) The Gourmet Burger Kitchen is so the schizzle. I decided not to take piccies of our burgers (should have) and instead opted for end of evening happy pics after we'd all had a cocktail. I had the yummiest strawberry daiquiri I've had in a good long while although Kerry thought hers was a bit strong (pansy).

And only two more days till Portugal!!!!!!!! Whoopee!!!!!!! Probably no blogging for most of that week as I'll be touristing around or pulling my hair out as I look after supposedly adorable children. Goodluck.

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Since about 4pm I've been all but falling asleep at my desk. I don't know what has come over me but I just want to cut and run at 5pm (or curl up under my desk) but since I'm going on holiday on Friday, I have a lot to pack in to this week. I have tried everything from taking a 5 min power-kip in the loo to taking my work outside into the cold (worked well for 2 mins and then I just started falling asleep again). Right now my eyes have that feeling they would usually get at 2am if I'd been working all day and was still staring at a screen or if you're trying to drive from Welly to Akl in one stint immediately after a 3am ferry.

On other news, I got my baby back from the pub on Fri night. I was so not expecting that. And this morning it got christened at the gym. Unfortunately, it is entirely possible that I do not look quite as hella-tight with it on as I had envisioned. But this is not the fault of my iPod and matching strap, I blame my arm. I mean check it out- it's matching and teal. How can you lose?

Rippon! W00t!

The Rippon contingent this year consisted of Signor John Ong, the lovely Mademoiselle Hannah August, Monsieur E. Le Roy Higbee and moi. We travelled in the Merc up the Pig Route imagining what the Rippon acts that we were missing were like, and playing Rippon-related music loud on the car stereo.

By the time we got there, it was early afternoon and we had missed Kora, PBass Expressway, and a couple others. So to show our remorse we did what everyone else was doing and lay in the sun getting boozed on cheap Rippon wine. Ah! Glorious!

And that was basically how the rest of our day went, in the sun. With booze. Lazily eating cheese and salami. Watching this complete LOCO guy devour a whole chicken carcass with his hands and teeth. Until shapeshifter came on about 6, and they shook our little booties off with a *fantastic* set. Then it was Shihad, and let's face it, I'm not a fan. And he swore 34 times. But they had a good lighting technician. After that "rock out", smooth and beautiful Fat Freddy's Drop came on stage and played for a restrained 1hr45mins, nice and mellow and so not suitablly placed in the schedual - between two rock acts (The Mint Chicks played last).

Then it was time to leave and head to the afterparty. Which was a great idea in theory, apart from we had no sober drivers, and a car full of stuff, and no patience to wait for buses. So we decided we'd have a couple minutes of shut-eye in the carpark.
Yeah.
At 6.30 am, when we finally woke up, cold and in pain from sleeping in a car, I realised that yet again I had missed the Upbeats, and about 2/3 of the afterparty gig. We still, a little belatedly, made it to see the Irie Eyes in beautiful morning lit Cadrona Valley, but after a couple of hours of bopping around in the morning chill with all the hardcore BZPers, we decided we needed pies and juice.

And boy is there nothing quite like a Dough Bin chicken curry pie down by Wanaka lake after a hard night.

After we fulfilled our pie fantasies we decdied to head back to Dunedin, stopping on the way at the Wanaka shooting range to try our luck at some hole-in-ones, and to see how much clay pigeon shooting cost. (A lot apparently).
Next stop was Bannockburn, a small place outside of Cromwell, that embodies everything that is good about Central Otago.
Hannah's family has an awesome crib there with a wrap-around porch, a cute nephew and several KiwiTubs (her dad is the genius behind these). We had a nice long soak in the sun looking at beautiful central hills and trees, and wishing we could all just move there.
We then tried the fare down in Cromwell village, choosing an Italian place that we pinned high hopes on... Cromwell Italian is as good as it sounds FYI (LOL).

Back on the road Hannah and I exhaustedly slumped over each other in the back seat, while John and Elliot discussed the place of nuclear power in New Zealand. All the way back to Dunedin.

Pie Tally: 5(ish)
Sunburn: 25% (John has a 'beater' mark)
Escargot: None, but they were selling for $2 each/

beer is bad

I can't believe it- there must be some kind of curse on me- or on my work mates. It seems that everytime I go out to a pub with them for some big occasion, I leave a bag behind. What with going to the gym before work, I invariably have both a backpack and a handbag with me and it seems I am doomed to leave one of them behind at the end of the night. Last night it was my backpack (again) and I was ultra-traumatised because in it is my iPod mini with my new pride and joy- its matching armband. When I get it back I'm putting up a photo... My iPod is blue (who are they kidding? It's TEAL guys.) and I ordered an armband from Apple so that it's easier for around the gym. (Any excuse to accessorise will do.) At any rate, it's teal too and my God am I going to be a vision of style at teh gym on Monday morning. That is, so long as some tosser hasn't taken it from my bag. I really have no faith in the integrity of people over here. I did call up the pub when I got home and they have it so tonight I have to trek back in to central London again to go pick it up. But it will be worth it to have my baby with me once again. It is so beautiful.

The occasion last night was the farewell of Christian, our now former Features Editor. Chris is relatively quiet and kinda shy and would absolutely KILL me if he knew I blogged this image of him which I grabbed from a feature folder. And as a disclaimer, this photo does him no justice. But of course I forgot to bring my camera last night which is probably just as well because I probably would have left that somewhere too. I shall miss his emails, his dry sense of humour, his trendy Indie dress styles and ever-changing facial hair. And he smelt good. Farewell Chris, you shall be missed. How will you cope with having to make your own coffee?

falling in love again

It seems like it was only yesterday that it was dark by 4:30pm. But here I am at 4:35 and there is still light. And BLUE SKY.
Dude.
When I walked out of the house this morning it was light already and I'm sure that last week I was groping my way to the bus stop in complete darkness. It is hard to put in to words the simple joy of a blue sky and some sunlight but it is a beautiful thing. I've been in a better mood today than I have been for weeks. Suddenly London doesn't seem like such a horrible place. You can forgive the pressing crowds and people who push past you adn bump and jostle without apologising. None of this is quite so important when there is sun. No wonder people worshipped Sun Gods.
But to put things properly inperspective, the other view from the back of our offices, available if I turned 90degrees and in to the sun, was this ->. This is somewhat closer to what I've had for the past 3 weeks or more, just without the piercing sunlight to liven things up...

shiver me timbers

Well I had a relatively chilled weekend which was a good chance to regain what I like to think if as my natural composure. On Saturday I finally got to the London Aquarium which was cool but yet somehow not as cool as I'd hoped. I went there accompanied by Rob who is a friend of my sister that I am stealing and has become my sight-seeing buddy. They have a range of fish from different environments- Atlantic, Pacific, fresh water, rainforest, etc- but having to wade through hoards of small children and negotiate a sea of prams took the thrill out of it a bit. I was also somewhere between amused and concerned to see a bunch of fish in one display grouped in a corner. There wasn't any food there or bright lights of anything I could see that might be of fishy interest but there they were, acting like if they swam hard enough, they could get out of the corner.... I was hanging out to see Nemo and was pretty gutted until I came across a tank with a whole bunch of BABY clownfish. All these little guys swimming around and all about 3cm long. Pretty goddamn cute, let me tell you. When we finally emerged, we treated ourselves to sorbet (on a freezing cold day) and I made the mistake of giving Rob the camera while he tried to act like a pirate. Same old same old really.

kitty rocks my world

So I got home yesterday is a pretty foul mood as it hadn't been the best of days- it hasn't even been the best of weeks- and was all glum and grumpy... until I checked the mail. Waiting for me was a card from Kitty and NEW ZEALAND MAGNETIC POETRY. Sooooooooo supercool and hours of fun to be had by all. Especially as I explained what different words meant to my flatmates. Oh the hilarity. I was however gutted with the absence of gutted, ka pai, whanau and chur.

Another funny thing last night was that one of my flatmates made a sponge cake and, for the first time in her life, used an electric beater. I bought a cheapy one a while ago so I offered it to her (if God had intended us to cream butter and sugar by hand, he wouldn't have made electricity) and the reaction was hilarious. At first she was holding it like it was some kind of beast that would turn around and bite her and she was also holding it at an angle that promised to have our kitchen decorated in goop but after some pointers she was off. I had to smile when I went in to the living room and could hear her saying to our other flattie, "This thing is GREAT!" Damn straight.

As for the technical editor/art director thing, it's hard to say. At least in relation to how things are over here, I think art director is more like what we are doing and when you say technical editor, people do have more IT connotations. But then we did have to do a lot of system maintenance and helping people out with their computer problems and art director seems a bit over-the-top when it's only one person and you're not heading an art department with a host of arty minions. If I had a choice though, I'd say art director. ;-)

Famous!

I wanted to put a picture too, but I didn't know what of, so I just found something cute. (googleimage search: baby (whatelese?!))

I was in the Dunedin Public Library yesterday, and I was in the magazine section (NB: NOT looking at bridal magazines), when I happened to pass a copy of 'Geographica'. So I picked it up and casually flipped to the credits section, and lo and behold! Picture Researcher: Aynia Noever.
Wow! that is just so supercool! All shiny and glossy and 'Not for Issue' and everything!


In relation to the recent furor about that Critic offensive issue*, I shall share something from the classifications ruling document (well actually I might summise, as I need permission to duplicate anything in the report. awsome!).
Legally the ruling has to give a description of the publication it is writing about, so Critic's went something like: "yaddah yaddah yaddah... student audience... yaddah yaddah ...5500 print run... yaddah ...printed on good quality paper, with a compact, professional layout..."
Nevermind about that old 'Objectionable' classification and $2000 fine if you're caught with a copy; it's "professionally layed out" people!
Makes you think about if it was on crap paper and bad layout - "printed on crappy paper with a loose crap layout"
So, you know, every cloud and all that.
* If you want a great read, click here (PDF in side bar)to read the Society for Protection of Community Standards submission about the Offensive issue to the classification office. Or here to read a news report about the whole thing, with a GREAT ending.

I also have an idea to pitch. I was wondering what comicallysans and all its numerous readers and contributors think about changing the actual term 'Technical Editor' to something a bit more 'profession specific'...say, 'Art Director', or something as equally wanky like that, but that has more currency in conversations with the un-critic-intiated, and future employers.
Not that it matters, and it's probably just my Victorian Freudian tendencies wanting to label everything...
Anyway, comments or suggestions would be well receieved.

please hurry up Friday

I haven't wanted the weekend to come this quickly for a good long while. It's been a shitter of a week for a myriad of reasons which I won't state here but let's just say I'll b eglad to see it gone.

On a brighter note, Sean, the precocious 3 year old I will be looking after in Portugal is apparently already asking his mum when they're picking me up from the airport. So supercutie. And on Sunday I'm looking after a lively 4 yr old, giving her parents a well deserved chance to go out for a meal. I can look forward to a day of throwing around a ball, drawing, reading, going to the park and pushing a swing, and trying to avoid watching horrible children's videos. Maybe I'll get lucky and she'll choose Aladdin or Finding Nemo... Which reminds me that I'm also aiming to get to the London Aquarium on Saturday which I anticipate being supercool.

babies it is

Well of course I had to choose babies in the end. I mean really, how could I not? I'm sure the novelty of being able to read my book all day and look at a pool that probably isn't warm enough to swim in yet would wear off after half a day. So instead I've signed up to be spat upon and wipe bottoms.

On a cooler note, I am going to be going to see Cirque Du Solei- hopefully next week! These guys are absolutely amazing and I'm quite excited. Yay for London!

Always choose the babies

Ka pai on the ol' posting aynia, but why are you asking about "to baby or not to baby?" You know you should ALWAYS choose the babies!

Speaking of babies, a certain Planet Pete had his first baby on Saturday morning. A girl called Mela. Awww cuuute! I'll post pictures when some materialise. I'm thinking or screen printing 'critic' onto a purple stretch and grow!


I'm living out an Ori mag nightmare at present, so can't blog as extensivley as I'd like to as I'm also being inundated with media calls regarding this:
Obejectionable!
And what with this week being editor-less (but technically still technical editorful), I have to spend a lot of time "putting you through to our general manager".

Awwwsome!

beaches or babies?

In just over two weeks I'm going to be headed to Faro, Portugal to stay with a friend of mine. I'm hanging out for some of this

and also seeing two of the most adorable kids in the world. The problem is, their mother is in a pantomime in the weekend so the kids were going to be left with a friend. I have however, been offered the dubious honour of looking after them if I choose.
"If you would actually prefer to be terrorized, victimized, have food thrown at you and spat upon you, listen to endless hours of nonsensnical babble about why good boys don't wipe snot on their jumper but ask for a tissue instead, only to see before your very eyes snot being wiped on the afore mentioned jumper, brush each tooth in an evergrowing mouth 25 times to be told you haven't brushed it hard/gently/long enough, read 4 or 5 bed time stories in 3 languages, before being bribed into reading another half dozen, and then when you finally settle down, take your coat off and open the fridge for a bite to eat, you'll be infomed, and not quietly, that the cup is on the wrong side of the bed..."
I honestly don't know what to do. Sean is three, a horrible flirt and at times reminds me very strongly of Calvin. His sister Daisy is just over one and starting to walk. Daisy is, most of the time, a real treat but supercutie can, in the blink of an eye, turn to not-so-supercutie. So I am in a dielma. The point of a holiday is to get some rest and rejuivinate so do I go for beaches for babies?

10 weeks and counting

In 10 weeks time I will be home for 12 days. It seems ages away and at the same time, it's like it's tomorrow. The thing I remember most about the last time I returned home after being away for a while was the quality of the light. The light in NZ is so clear and the sunlight feels crisp in a way nothing does here in London. I'm looking forward to St Clair beach early in the morning as the sun is coming up and everything is beautiful shades of purple and blue. Hell, I'm looking forward to the beach and ocean full stop.

Two and a half months is also enough time for me to indulge in a Bridget Jones styled panic to become slim, glamorous and unrecognisable. I do blame movies for my constant loss of motivation. As I'm sweating my ass off on the cross trainer and listening to my iPod, I can't help but think that in the movies, I would only have to do this for 15 mins to achieve what I want. In the movies, I'd be bright red in the face and sweating copiously for the first 5 mins, I'd do funny things like fall off the back of my treadmill because of exhaustion or knock myself in the head with weights. But soon, to the accompaniment of some catchy theme song, I'd be decked out in sports bra and bike pants, jogging along with ease and noted lack of sweat. Sadly this is not reality.

moral dilemmas of a comic sans hater

I am gradually coming to believe that my hatred of comic sans may in fact be something of a disorder. There's a lovely vegetarian organic cafe around the corner from work which does super-healthy and yummy falafel pitas which I love having for lunch but I nearly had to force myself to go inside because their sign is in comic sans. When I realised that I was actually tossing up the idea of boycotting shops whose signs use That Font, I decided I might have a problem.

Hello my name is Aynia and I hate comic sans to an almost obsessive degree. I have hated comic sans for 6 years now. I admit that I may need help.

Not because I think I'm wrong to hate it. HELL NO. It is Satan's font. I just think I need to chill about the whole thing a bit.

I was perusing movie trailers on Apple.com and came across this preview. This looks to be an amazing and heart-rending story and you know what my first thought was? "Yerck, comic sans!" Thought two was, "Fuck what an awesome person." I never had the patience to do animation even though I absolutely love it. "Ami Ankilewitz was diagnosed with Spinal Muscular Atrophy (SMA) -yet at 34 years of age - he continues to outlive a doctorÂ’s prediction of life expectancy by 28 years. And counting." And me? My overwhelming thought is, could I sit through a movie with subtitles in comic sans? I am seriously going to Hell. And we know what's gonna be waiting for me.....

sweet, sweet relief

I am currently basking in a rush of relief-induced adrenaline as I have just found out that I don't have to file a tax return.

A small thing you might think but I've been freelancing for the past 4 months and there are suddenly posters up everywhere saying you need to file self assessment tax returns by Jan 31 or there's a £100 fine. Eeek. Since I've just been getting cheques for freelancing I've basically been getting cash in hand, tax-free and if I didn't think I was going to be in the UK much longer, I wouldn't bother with the tax thing but as I might be here for a while, I don't feel like getting on the wrong side of IRD. (Dude, that's a long sentence.) Anyway, turns out this tax return is for the year April 2004-2005 and I've only been in the country since June 2005 so I don't have to worry about it. Thank bloody God. If there's one thing these Brits are good at it's paper work and queuing. (So that's two things, so sue me.)

So yay no £1000 of tax to pay by Tues and no paperwork!!!! I think should go shopping at lunchtime to celebrate... ;-)

A friend has brought to light how remiss I've been on blogging so here I am. For those not in the know, you should check out wickeywoo.com. I'll be posting pics on it as my Mac doesn't seem to like putting pics on this blog (although it may prove me wrong when I try it again in 5 mins) plus it's also tres cool. It can take a while for pics to load although that could be our fucked up internet connection at work and nothing to do with wickeywoo-ness. (I'm not dissing you Rob, promise. xox) And for those who aren't privy to wickeywoo picture glory, get thee to the website and sign up. Pronto.