Oscar day

I'm not quite sure why it is I get so hyped up about this particular day. I am already threatening extreme violence towards any minions who dare to even hint Oscar results before I watch the programme tonight with my peeps.
If I was observing me as an outsider I would be inclined to think that I would object philosophically to such blatant celebrations of money, fame, and bullshit, but in fact I love the Oscars.
I can't wait to watch the red carpet walks, bitch about the frocks, and get irrationally angry when certain people do or don't win. Billy Crystal will be hideously annoying, Americans will get up there, carp on about Sept 11 and their illegal war as if they are some sort of force for righteousness and generally piss people off, and all the women will not have eaten for several weeks and have faces made of plastic and botox, but still, I love the Oscars.
I know Keisha's not going to win, and I'm pretty sure Mr Jackson will, or there'll be anarchy in the streets. But still, GO KIWI!!! Yeah.

As of approx. 2pm today, I must isolate myself from all media so that I don't inadvertantly get told Oscar results before tonights viewing extravaganza. Oh the horror!!! Thats 6 hours without information!! Luckily I have two hours of ER from last night to help me through. Phew.

Big ups to Charlie for having a smashing party at Vertigo on Friday, and also for having the good sense to have a really fit German bloke called Sebastian there for the sole purpose of paying loads of attention to me for quite some time. Perhaps there is hope for me yet....

Having spent the best part of an hour fannying about with the template on this wee toy we call a blog, I am forced to admit defeat. I'm absolutely buggared if I can get a nice gap between the different links categories, see to your right. The symmetry is all fucked up now, that theres a gap between "Links for my peeps" and the Saving the World links, but not one between that and the links to fun time-wasting stuff. Grrr.
Its all wrong, and I'm going to have to throw the whole site away.
Strangely enough, the computer doesn't seem to respond to my muttered threats of violence. Go Figure.

Isn't it ironic, don't you think.
First the bloody Americans spend God only knows how much money propping up Saddam, then they complain about how he got so powerful.
Then they get bin Laden in their CIA camps in the Middle East, train him up, and wonder why he got to be such a good terrorist. Cos he learnt from the masters.
Then they produce 25% of the worlds greenhouse emissions, kill the Kyoto protocol and then come across the fact that the planet is fucked, and Gee George, d'ya think we should maybe do something about this environment thing?
Honestly. You wonder why I have no time for them? Its cos I have no time for PURE FUCKING IDIOCY!!!
Its not ironic, Alanis, its just daft.

Things that I have learnt today.
(a) Name: Gini Index of Income Inequality.
(b) Brief Definition: A summary measure of the extent to which the
actual distribution of income, consumption expenditure, or a related variable,
differs from a hypothetical distribution in which each person receives an
identical share.
(c) Unit of Measurement: A dimensionless index scaled to vary from a
minimum of zero to a maximum of one; zero representing no inequality and one representing the maximum possible degree of inequality.

The distribution of family income according to the Gini Index in East Timor, as of a 2002 estimate, is 38.
No, I don't know what that means either, but I'm going to find out.

I also am not quite sure what this means, but perhaps he is implying that it might be more difficult to become El Presidente, Princess Boogaloo, or even Queen of the Fucking Universe as I initially thought. Nevermind, I'm sure I can buy myself a job somewhere.

In other news, the much loved Fellowship, or certain members thereof, have been branching out into the world of the cyber geek. Messers Mortensen, Bloom, Wood & Bean, plus Miss Tyler, are rumoured to have bought the rights to a website for their own nefarious purposes. According to sources, it all began with a shared make-up trailer they christened Cunty-Bago. The mind boggles.

This morning I am a very proud aunty. Alexander went in his very first triathalon today, the WeetBix Kiwi Kids Tryathalon, in a team with his mates Alex G. and Alex W, and they kicked Ass!!!!! Thats my boy!!!!
As a cunning campaign strategy for "Aunty of the Year" I made a big sign that said "Go Team Alex", and we all yelled and cheered as he biked past. Not too shabby for some ungodly hour on a Sunday morning.
In other news........
Nope.
Nothing.
Not a sausage.
Although I don't have a hangover, and have managed to convince my liver to stick around for a bit longer, with the promise of some serious health-wise attention. Lots of raw peanuts and tomatoes and water.
We'll see. Stay tuned.

And here we have it, the third hangover this week. Next week I'm going to see if I can crack five hangovers in five days. Cos its important to have goals.
I woke up this morning and my liver was sitting on the pillow next to me drinking coffee and smoking unfiltered Camels, growling "motherfucker" under it's breath.
Occasionally there are days of great creativity that emerge from the hangover. Being that I have a brain that it as structured and orderly as a bowl of tapioca, sometimes it helps to be a little rough in order to get those pesky wee thoughts in the right order onto a page. By dumbing oneself down somewhat, it makes work a lot easier.
Unfortunately, today was not one of those days. Still tapioca brain.
I did get a chance to check out the newbies, all the honours students that start next week, theres a couple of new Masters students as well. Haha, fresh meat.
In the sad absence of Katy I have taken it upon myself to be the unofficial social officer, and as such am organising the bus trip. The goal this time is to see if we can get Saint past the third pub. Certain up-for-it academics have been informed, and will no doubt be taking part, again. Nice.
In a completely different vein, here is reason #457 why this woman should be given a very important job, high up in some very important establishment.
When they make me El Presidente, she can be my right hand (wo)man. Charlie has offered to take the job, he's even prepared to change his name to "Knuckles" and adopt a Vinnie Jones type accent, but hes got some serious competition.

I was mostly rudely awoken this morning by the phone ringing. So I ignored it, only to be woken one minute later by the bloody cell phone. Happily it was my best friend, back from Australia, so after talking to her I went back to sleep. However, the industrial strength construction work that was going on in my head managed to prevent much sleep, and I faced one of life's most difficult quandries. Does one lie in bed and pretend to sleep, hoping that if suitably ignored, ones catering pack of a hangover will go away? Or, does one instead embrace the reality of the hangover and succumb to the lure of the fried-egg-and-tomato-breakfast? Having chosen option two, after trying option one on for size and realizing its complete uselessness, I retreated to the sofa for my weekly Scrubs fix, c/o- Dave the mega-programme-taper.
It is now 3.45pm, and having done nowt, I'm off to do more of the same. Head is going boom boom, and I think while I was sleeping, goblins put socks on all my teeth.
You'll be pleased to know that we gave Tamara a hell of a send-off on her last night at work. The neighbours weren't too impressed though, with Audioslave at 4am. Don't you just love the suburbs?
Big ups to Brad, for the Hawaiian shirt, to Simon for the margaritas; and to Tam, for not letting the side down. We'll miss you girl.

I was going to write a big list of "Things That Pants Up Your Day" to vent a little steam, but thats not particularly productive, because the only reason I'm cross is because of stupid search engines. Plus, people piss me off, but that happens every day, so you'd think I'd be used to it by now.
The difference is now they piss me off in a stalker kind of way. Hmmm.
I went back to the optometrist today, having come to the realisation that there is no way I can afford the pink Gucci glasses I so really want. Instead, I spent the best part of an hour trying on frames, and finally decided on some very stylishly understated gray wire framed Oakleys. So I only have about 8 weeks left of squinting at everything and everybody before I will have paid them off. Yay. Then I will be cool. Stop laughing, I will be.
I also employed the assistance of the lovely Ange to help explain the difference between certain terms. I was recently accused of being more manly than a certain male, the accuser in fact, just because I changed the tyre on my car. I think in fact he was more impressed that I was changing the tyre and fiddling around under the bonnet of the car in a wee small T-shirt and Daisy Dukes, but thats a whole other story.
Anyway, having been accused of being more of a man than him because I could do more car stuff, I needed Ange to help explain to the poor wee dear the difference between "male" and "capable", being that the difference is so massive it defies the comprehension of the average human.
A woman who is capable of doing car stuff, as well as useful things like back trailers and tune VCRs, is no less a woman or more a man, she is just infinitely more valuable than a person who can do neither. Ha.
The imposition of outdated gender stereotypes serves only to illuminate the ignorance and/or insecurities of those employing said stereotypes.
Its Tamara's last night at work tonight :(
There will be drink involved :}.
Tune in next time for...... debauchery.

So I get a text message from a friend in Australia on Saturday, saying happy valentines day, to which I reply something along the lines of "Get Fucked" (natural reaction of course), being that I am the grinch that stole Valentines day. So having been a total vege all day, channelling Ms Jones by sitting in bed in my SEXY gray trackies eating frozen yogurt straight from the container, I head off to work. Upon arrival at work, I am informed by my friend that I must proceed with haste to the chiller, cos theres something in there I need to see. Well buggar me if there isnt the biggest fuck off bunch of flowers, with my name on them, from the aforementioned Australian. So I am forced to walk through the restaurant, being a rather vivid shade of red with embarrassment, with these flowers, to shouts from chefs along the lines of "OOOOOOH!!!!! Who sent you flowers" and "Gee, they must have cost you a bit". Cos every girl needs a good public humiliation once in a while.
But still, it was nice to get flowers on Valentines Day, so thank you. (Note attempt at being gracious).
It all worked out pretty well in the end, I got flowers from one boy, another one said I was the perfect woman, and I got a good night kiss from a third one. Someones dying to say "Slapper", but they're just jealous. Haha.
Also I need new glasses, and the only frames I like are Gucci, so please send donations to me, c/o- the Green Room. Ta.

I am a fucking genius. Yes, people, all things have gone to plan (fingers crossed and all that) and I now have comments, so I am able to be insulted by Mr Constable at his whim.
Now why did I do that again?
In other news, today is THE day. As of approximately 3pm today, the Green Room will be loser-free. In celebration, there will be beer drunk, and tunes played at maximum volume, just cos we can!!!
Rock on!!

Just because I don't have anything better to do on a Friday afternoon, like do loads of research for my thesis, or bibliography stuff, or go to the library and get books, etc, I've just spent about half an hour trying to get a comments function enabled on this page. Yay, says Jeff.
Unfortunately due to some technical hiccups, it is taking a bit longer than expected.
It has nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that when it comes to technological stuff I am a bit less savant, and a bit more idiot; and more to do with the crap computers we have at university. At least I think so. I am determined to do it by myself and not ask anybody for help. So it might take a while.
Haloscan is having a bad hair day, it seems.
Incidentally, for a good read check out the new Vanity Fair magazine. Give you three guesses as to who's on the cover!!!

On having a say on someone elses say

Having checked this mornings email, I was most impressed to discover that a dear colleague had FINALLY updated his website, and was inviting his peeps to have a wee squizz.
Upon squizzing said update, one has become inspired to bring a few points to light on the excessive use of adjectives, the tendancy to use many synonyms to illustrate a single point, and to be, well, wrong. (without meaning any offence, or intending to cast dispersions upon said colleague, who is of course very clever and smashing and quite a looker too. shut up and get on with it.)
The notion that those who are forced by circumstance to encounter violence on a daily basis are not generally those able to "get over it", as is suggested. Any observation of society will demonstrate that violence begets violence, and for those immersed in a culture of violence, the only real way to "constructively deal with it" is to engage in said violence.
The point is that violence is embraced as an expression of masculinity, because expectations and opportunities are so low or otherwise skewed, violence remains the only valid expression of "masculinity", as incomplete as that may be. This is by no means a "moot concern", but in fact the point of the whole exercise that is Fight Club. Yes, we're back there again.
It is not at all "controversial" to imply that gender is dictated by cultural and socio-economic dymanics, I believe that is in fact the distinction between gender and sex: Gender a social construct; Sex a biological one.
Also, "empirically"? Somehow I doubt that a quantative analysis has been employed in consideration of this issue: not that it is a crime to abuse adverbs (yet).
The notion that "women are inherently evil" is no doubt used to generate a response and create controversy, because as any educated individual knows, the employment of outdated ignorant mysogynistic superstition has no place in academia, or indeed, the common discourse.
Finally, "their" is a completely different word to "there".
Grammatical and linguistic hiccups aside, perhaps the point of the whole exercise is to generate debate. While I recognise that my colleague has some intellectual and ideological divergences from my world view, and a tendancy to overwork adjectives, he does have some valid points.
However, this is my blog, and here I get to engage in some serious subjectivity. Because without our own perspective on life, whats the point in even being here? Aside from the whole looking after the planet for the next generation and planting trees, and righting wrongs etc, that shit goes without saying.
Two days to go until the Green Room is Loser-Free!!! Yeah.

On the finishing of chapters

It is good. I think its a feeling reserved especially for the thesis writer. Ok, so I've only done two chapters, I've got four more to do, and four and a half months in which to do them, but still. I'm feeling pretty good.

I feel like I should have my two cents on the whole "Fight Club" thing.
Here it is. Its a movie about men, masculinity and constructs thereof, and social pressures on men and masculinity. So, my own particular brand of logic dictates that obviously, men are going to get more out of it than women, because it is designed for them.
I don't expect any man in the world to try and understand how important certain movies are to me, because they are unashamedly designed for women. That neither improves on nor detracts from them, it just makes them different.
Now I love Fight Club, I think its a fine movie, but it makes one conscious of elements of popular culture that I feel are, while not being wrong, are misinformed. If you see a protagonist in a movie, they are generally identified as male, and are given to represent, more often than not, the human condition, while female characters are either objects for male attention, or representing the female condition, whatever that is. The problem I have with this insinuation is that somehow male is normal, while female is considered other. In a way, Fight Club represents the rebranding of culture, claiming the male as distinct from the human, but I think that this goes over most people's heads.
Or perhaps most people have more important things to think of.

And Again, its Monday. Funny how that keeps happening.
High point of the day is yet to come, namely ER at 8.30, but all things considered, its not going too bad for a Monday.
I didn't get woken up at some unGodly hour by DumbArse the soon-to-be-ex-flatmate, but thats only cos he wasn't coming home from work at 3am.
I've realised that I am really quite fond of my thesis, and despite the grumbles of others I know, its actually not a chore to write. Ask me again in four months though.

I watched "Bowling For Columbine" again last night. One thing that really scares me, aside from some of the clothing choices of interviewees, is the statements of those who wish to arm themselves. The inclusion of the phrase "As an American" seems to be a blanket excuse for, well, anything. The guy at the start from the Michigan Militia, who claims that its his duty, "as an American" to defend himself and his family from attackers epitomises the narrow minded attitude that appears to eminate from certain regions of that particular land (note non-committal language, not a dig at anyone specific, but a perception, therefore subjective, ie don't bomb my house).
It fits right in with old NumbNuts George the Selected, as opposed to his dad, George the elected. The use of language such as "evil doers", the "axis of evil" etc reeks of a dichotomous view of international relations, of "us vs. them", which anyone with half a brain can see is not just incomplete, but plain wrong.
I'd love to sit down with the Michigan Militia guy, and ask him about the people he's supposedly defending himself against. Poverty breeds crime, and without insinuating that people are not responsible for their own actions, I'd ask Mr Militia what pro-active measures he'd take against crime, so that he doesn't need to shoot anybody. (the fact that hes probably praying for an opportunity to shoot someone aside).
These people epitomise everything that gives America such a bad name. Kneejerk reactions to events are their style. When September 11th happened, nobody was seriously asking why, they just wanted revenge, thinly disguised as justice. Sure, a horrible tragedy occured, and innocent people died.
What really gets me is why nobody is concerned about the innocent people that died in Chile, Nicaragua, El Salvador, Argentina, Iraq, Afghanistan, Cambodia, Vietnam, Iran.
Where are the monuments to the people that died when the US bombed Kosovo? What about memorials to the 500,000 children that died as a result of sanctions against Iraq? Will there be a TV movie about those that died as a result of the US bombing a "weapons plant" in Sudan, the one that turned out to be manufacturing medicine? What about a moments silence at the Oscars to comemmorate the thousands that died because of corrupt regimes, instituted and funded by the American govt, in Latin and South America? Will Tom Hanks appear in a TV special about children working in sweatshops in South East Asia, making clothes for Nike and Tommy Hilfiger, children that should be playing with footballs, not manufacturing them.
Now I didn't really mean to have a rant, but hey, there you go.
This is how I'm going to save the world, through fair trade, accountability, and transparency of financial movements, one structural adjustment policy at a time.

I think I'm having a little bit of writers block today concerning my thesis, well not so much writers block as Can't-Be-Arsed, so I got stuck into some serious sleeping. I see it not as a waste of day, but an investment into personal wellbeing in the months to come, when I'm writing 23 hours a day.
Its important to plan ahead.
My new flatmate moved in yesterday, shes really nice, bought loads of food with her and said she loves to cook. I said choice, cos I love to eat. Plus, she's been there one day and already cleaned the bathroom! Haha, what a find. Now theres only one week to go until Loser moves out, and then we shall celebrate, yeah.
Only two days until ER, and the return of Dr Tall-Dark-Handsome-and-Foreign (what more could a girl want? except of course universal human rights, an end to hunger, 3rd world debt relief and free Grain Waves for everyone).
PS my DJ name is DJ Mothership. I think it should be DJ Get Fucked.

ANNOUNCEMENT

Because its Valentines Day, and because we will be free of the Bad Flatmate, and because we will have two new Good Flatmates, and because we need to fit as much in as we can before Charlie goes, and because I can, and because, well, any excuse will do, there will be a party at the Green Room Saturday February 14th. If anyone can think of any better reason that those described above, please let me know. Correspondence regarding suitable themes will also be received.
That is all.

Subject of todays ill tempered rant:Arseholes who drive like, well, arseholes.

I was just about to leave the comfort of the Green Room (ie my house) to make my way bravely back to uni to confront the rabid demon that is my thesis, when there was a big fuck-off screeching-followed-by-crashing sound. So, being the wee curious cat that I am, I went outside to investigate. Now, I live next to a park, where theres a big playground, and cricket nets, and all sorts of fun kid-orientated things. Given that there are hence loads of children running about the place all the time (even 8am on a Saturday, but thats for another day), this complete fuck nuts in a flashy (read: new money, small penis) car comes tearing around the corner, loses control of his car, and smashes into a (luckily empty) parked car on the other side of the street. The owner of this car and her small daughter (subsequently terrified out of her cute little tree) are about to get into their car, and it is some piece of good fortune that the loser in the silver speeding car didn't come round the corner a minute later. This arsewipe confesses to the cop that he might have been doing 70 or 80 around the corner, which means he was probably doing over 100. In a suburban street. Next to a park. Where he comes every week, so he said, so he cant plead ignorance as to the existence of the park.
So I think I did pretty well restraining myself to a "you're fucking lucky you didn't kill anyone, what the fuck were you thinking driving like that around here".
Now those who have the privilege to know me know that people who drive like a cautious nana are high on the list of things that pants up your day, but surely theres a happy medium?
I just hope that Mr new-money-flashy-sports-car-drive-like-a-deranged-arse chap loses his licence, and once his car's fixed (that he has to pay for, none of this insurance nonsense) he has to give it to the little girl he scared the shit out of. Ok, shes only about 4, but hey, university's not cheap, and its important to start saving early!
Anyway, that is all.

Things that I did today
By Claire.

1) Wrote 1661 words on my thesis.
2) Finished a chapter, choice bro!!
3) Changed the tyre on my car, which, due to the conspicuous lack of crank handle on the jack, was a bit more tricky than usual.
4) Used "absent" as a verb: "Wolfensohn's original framework, while attempting to create an inclusive picture of development, is absent consideration of ethnic and cultural identification".
5) Rewrote the comprehensive development framework, invented by the aforementioned Wolfensohn, so that it a) can be used for my thesis, and b) is better.
6) ate some pasta.
7) Wrote the following few lines, of which I am particularly proud: "...a process rather than a single framework seems appropriate for the Bank's role in ethnic conflict. By taking some liberties with established Bank frameworks and placing them within context, a four step process is enabled..." Translation: this is what you're doing wrong, and heres how to do it right. Cheeky.
8) Sent a submission to the govt. from Greenpeace about the govt's lack of compliance to trade policy on timber from illegally mined forests thats not in keeping with the guidelines agreed by the Labour Government with the Forestry Stewardship Council.
9) Looked for a job on the govt jobs website. Every time I look there, there seems to be an obscure new ministry popped up: Advisory position available to the Chief executive of the Ministry of Little Old Ladies with Blue Rinses that Drive around Nelson Badly. the Minister of Lesbian Crack addict single mother amputees is looking for a receptionist.
10)Spent far too long trying to think up a number 10 for this list. I require certain levels of things, you can't have a list with only 9 things on it, it just seems wrong. Mind you, if I'm watching a telly where the volume is expressed with numbers, it has to be a nice round number, or one ending in 5, or it just seems all wrong. Its not obsessive compulsive, its idiosyncratic!

PS if anyone else calls me lovely, I'm gonna smash their fucking heads in. I may be many things, and there are some things which I am that adjectives for have yet to be invented, but lovely is not one of them. But if you want to find out how much loveliness I don't have, just call me that again.
I FUCKING DARE YA!!!!!
Hugs and kisses
Claire

FEBRUARY 14TH

The dreaded Valentines Day is imminent, where I get to feel nauseous all day with all the talk of love in the air (somebody pass me a bucket), plus get to work and have to look at all the disgusting couples holding hands over the tables and feed each other little love-heart shaped desserts (yuck!!!). Gross.
But regarding that whole upside thing I mentioned before: the dreaded funny-smelling, noisy eating, night-shift working, midnight-dish-washing (and when I say washing, I mean he holds the dishes under the tap and they get wet, and thats about it), born-again Christian, boring, stupid and ugly (let me count the ways) generally annoying flatmate is moving out that day!!!Yeah!!! So thats something to cheer me up while I don't get flowers, again. (sympathy flowers are even sadder than no flowers, by the way).

Monday, monday, dah dah, daaahh, dahdah
My best friend Sarah is going to Australia today for a holiday, to visit a whole bunch of our friends, and I am insanely jealous. I, however, am stuck here in muggy damp Chc. Yum.
I had a run in with someone yesterday who really got on my wick, which actually surprised me.
There are some people out there who are artists, and have amazing things to contribute to this world. Unfortunately there are also people who are so ridiculously precious about the concept of "art" and "creativity" that they are unable to see anything because they have their heads so far up their arses all they can smell is shit. They honestly believe that "As An Artist" they deserve some sort of special recognition, and they look down their noses at the rest of us lowly mortals. I freely admit to being an artistic ignoramus, and I'm probably just jealous that I have no ability to do like they do, but honestly. Sort your shit out. We all should be grateful to the people who do all the crappy jobs so that we can do what we do.
Anyway, theres my rant.
On a happier note, when I got home last night C4 was playing a show called "U2: every video ever made", and I indulged in some serious reminiscing. U2 is one of the bands, actually probably the only band, that I was really into in my so-called "formative years" and it was cool to go back. Everyone has those albums that define a part of their lives, and "Achtung Baby" is one of mine. Along with Hole's "Live Through This" and the first Chemical Brothers album, before they turned to shit.
Charlie's leaving us in a month, to go to the UK. Another name on the list of my friends who are buggering off.
In consolation, today is the day of the much anticipated return of the best programme ever: ER!!!!!!!!!!! Yeah. Theres always an upside.