Well I trust the police and the government, suck down corporate sentiment...
My mum will be here in 3 hours. Woohoo!!! Happy Claire.
Although I walked to university this morning with wet hair cos last night I was going to have a shower before I went to the movie and went downstairs and Sadaf was in the bathroom so I ran out of time and Rebecca came over and we went to see "North Country" which is pretty damn good go Kiwi director Niki Caro anyway I had wet hair cos I had to wash my hair and go to a meeting at uni and it was cold and I got a sore head and although my head is now warm again I still feel a bit pants. But I'm more than happy to ignore that because MY MUM WILL BE HERE REALLY SOON!!!!
Sorry, I know international caps lock day has been and gone.
Ah fuck it, I got nothing.
Thursday, October 27, 2005
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
Just call me....
Steven Spielberg...no, he's gone crap. How about....Francis Ford Coppola. Peter Jackson. Luc Besson. Niki Caro. Jean-Pierre Jeunet. Spike Jonze. Jim Jarmusch. Oliver Stone. Alex Proyas. Jodie Foster. Steven Soderberg.
OK, you get the picture.
I just made an awesome movie for Snotface's birthday, opening and closing credits, and spunky little linky bits between scenes and everything.
I rule.
OMG, what am I going to wear to the Oscars?!?!
Steven Spielberg...no, he's gone crap. How about....Francis Ford Coppola. Peter Jackson. Luc Besson. Niki Caro. Jean-Pierre Jeunet. Spike Jonze. Jim Jarmusch. Oliver Stone. Alex Proyas. Jodie Foster. Steven Soderberg.
OK, you get the picture.
I just made an awesome movie for Snotface's birthday, opening and closing credits, and spunky little linky bits between scenes and everything.
I rule.
OMG, what am I going to wear to the Oscars?!?!
What the....
fucking arse titwank bollocksy shite bastard cunty crap is going on with all the gravatar shit in haloscan? someone please fix it because it is bothering me no end. thank you.
fucking arse titwank bollocksy shite bastard cunty crap is going on with all the gravatar shit in haloscan? someone please fix it because it is bothering me no end. thank you.
Monday, October 24, 2005
Anger Ball....
I'm just trying to be a good auntie, but the universe hates me. It really does.
Because my beloved youngest niece Snotface is turning three at the end of this month, and because I am a BAD AUNTIE and won't be there I got a few people to say Happy Birthday to her and I videoed them on my precious shiny black cybershot. So now I'm trying to put the video all together so I can email it to her because my sister still lives in the age of dial up and it will take FREAKING FOREVER to download on her admittedly rather crappy computer so I'm planning ahead. BUT(t)!!!
Perhaps because I presume too much of the technology I have at my disposal, or just that I am a pretentious wanker, I took the single person videos in portrait format, because the person sending happy birthday greetings is framed better. So, I load the videos onto my computer and delete them off the camera, because the world is full of random images for me to fill my memory card with, thinking that mpeg files will have many of the same characteristics as jpeg files, one of which being the ability to be rotated 90 degrees.
Do you think Winamp or Media Player will play that game? No, those fuckers won't. So I google my query, and come up with some software I can download for a free (therefore within my price range) 15 day trial that will allow me to rotate the video so I can put it all together and send it to her.
Fine.
I download the software, read the instructions (very briefly cos instructions are boring) I rotate the video, put it all together, and the sound and picture are about as out of whack as George W and the real world.
So, I take the file I have created in this programme and try to open it with another programme. Windows Media Player spits it back at me like a bad oyster, and Winamp won't even take my call. Now I have a really crappy video in obscure proprietry software that you can bet your boots my sister doesn't have on her triassic-era computer, or a collection of sideways people saying happy birthday that will confuse the crap out of Snotface.
Fuckity fucky fuckit arsewank titfuck.
I'm going to give up now and go to bed, and hope that by morning the universe will have realised that I am not all bad and will have magically installed software on my computer that doesn't suck like a bad bad donkey.
I'm just trying to be a good auntie, but the universe hates me. It really does.
Because my beloved youngest niece Snotface is turning three at the end of this month, and because I am a BAD AUNTIE and won't be there I got a few people to say Happy Birthday to her and I videoed them on my precious shiny black cybershot. So now I'm trying to put the video all together so I can email it to her because my sister still lives in the age of dial up and it will take FREAKING FOREVER to download on her admittedly rather crappy computer so I'm planning ahead. BUT(t)!!!
Perhaps because I presume too much of the technology I have at my disposal, or just that I am a pretentious wanker, I took the single person videos in portrait format, because the person sending happy birthday greetings is framed better. So, I load the videos onto my computer and delete them off the camera, because the world is full of random images for me to fill my memory card with, thinking that mpeg files will have many of the same characteristics as jpeg files, one of which being the ability to be rotated 90 degrees.
Do you think Winamp or Media Player will play that game? No, those fuckers won't. So I google my query, and come up with some software I can download for a free (therefore within my price range) 15 day trial that will allow me to rotate the video so I can put it all together and send it to her.
Fine.
I download the software, read the instructions (very briefly cos instructions are boring) I rotate the video, put it all together, and the sound and picture are about as out of whack as George W and the real world.
So, I take the file I have created in this programme and try to open it with another programme. Windows Media Player spits it back at me like a bad oyster, and Winamp won't even take my call. Now I have a really crappy video in obscure proprietry software that you can bet your boots my sister doesn't have on her triassic-era computer, or a collection of sideways people saying happy birthday that will confuse the crap out of Snotface.
Fuckity fucky fuckit arsewank titfuck.
I'm going to give up now and go to bed, and hope that by morning the universe will have realised that I am not all bad and will have magically installed software on my computer that doesn't suck like a bad bad donkey.
Please don't go crazy if I tell you the truth, no you don't know what happened and you never will if you don't listen to me while I talk to the wall...
Haloscan is being a dick and keeps putting "Gravatar" up next to comments, not the images just the word. Stupid. The I tried to write a response in my comments box to Grace's comment and it wouldn't let me, it just went all blank and wouldn't refresh and then when it did it had eaten my comment so I gave up.
Grace, I am far too tall to be part hobbit, also not nearly hairy enough. I use my monkey toes to hold on to branches as I swing from tree to tree. This is also where my ridiculously long arms come in handy. Height = 5ft ten & 1/2. Arm span = a little over 6ft 2.
Yep, I'm a monkey. Cue monkey jokes.
Things that are making me happy today: the fact that one of The Most Beautiful Pieces of Music Ever has just come on: "Papua New Guinea" by Future Sound of London. Also, for the first time in two and a half months, my dear old mum (she'd kill me if she knew I called her old) is in the same country as me. In fact, she is just down the road in Manhattan until Thursday when her and her bestest friend are getting on a train to come and see me!!! Woohoo!!!! She's also bringing with her lots of things that I am missing, like Marmite and Jaffas and Timtams and 42 Below Feijoa vodka...mmmmm.....feijoa vodka.....
I currently have five books on my bedside table, and not one of them is school-work related. And yes, I am reading them all.
They are, in no particular order:
- Four Great Plays by Henrik Ibsen
- Country of My Skull by Antjie Krog (ok a little bit school related, but only because I chose to write a paper on it because its such an awesome book)
- Growing Up Black ed. by Jay David
- The Hot Zone by Richard Preston
- Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert M. Pirsig.
What is on your bedside table?
Haloscan is being a dick and keeps putting "Gravatar" up next to comments, not the images just the word. Stupid. The I tried to write a response in my comments box to Grace's comment and it wouldn't let me, it just went all blank and wouldn't refresh and then when it did it had eaten my comment so I gave up.
Grace, I am far too tall to be part hobbit, also not nearly hairy enough. I use my monkey toes to hold on to branches as I swing from tree to tree. This is also where my ridiculously long arms come in handy. Height = 5ft ten & 1/2. Arm span = a little over 6ft 2.
Yep, I'm a monkey. Cue monkey jokes.
Things that are making me happy today: the fact that one of The Most Beautiful Pieces of Music Ever has just come on: "Papua New Guinea" by Future Sound of London. Also, for the first time in two and a half months, my dear old mum (she'd kill me if she knew I called her old) is in the same country as me. In fact, she is just down the road in Manhattan until Thursday when her and her bestest friend are getting on a train to come and see me!!! Woohoo!!!! She's also bringing with her lots of things that I am missing, like Marmite and Jaffas and Timtams and 42 Below Feijoa vodka...mmmmm.....feijoa vodka.....
I currently have five books on my bedside table, and not one of them is school-work related. And yes, I am reading them all.
They are, in no particular order:
- Four Great Plays by Henrik Ibsen
- Country of My Skull by Antjie Krog (ok a little bit school related, but only because I chose to write a paper on it because its such an awesome book)
- Growing Up Black ed. by Jay David
- The Hot Zone by Richard Preston
- Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert M. Pirsig.
What is on your bedside table?
Sunday, October 23, 2005
"+++ Divide By Cucumber Error. Please Reinstall Universe And Reboot +++"
One thing that sucks about wintery type weather is that one must wear shoes, and the sucky thing about shoes, aside from making ones feet feel all strange and in-shoes which one is really not used to, and ones feet not feeling the wet and dry and cold and warm and the ground beneath ones feet, all of which suck especially given the claustrophobic state of one's feet so basically coming to the conclusion that wearing one's shoes is a necessary evil...... in the summer/spring/autumn I don't need to cut my toenails nearly as often.
Its not like they get so long they tap on the ground or anything as feral as that, its just that my feet are all free and happy and unconstrained and my toenails get cut...you know....whenever.
The real pisser about wearing shoes is that ones toes are all squashed up unnaturally and smoosh into each other and if a nail on one toe is ever so slightly longer or even out of line with its comrades, then one finds their toes being cut to shit by each other. So to cut a long story short, I have an ouchie on my toe, caused by my other toe, which is obviously making its case that being all mashed up in shoes sucks when you're a toe. Or, indeed, an entire foot.
I am so sorry feet, I hope it will only be for a few months, and then I will set you free, as the good Lord designed.
I'm a little drunk. But I really am quite fond of my feet. I think feet are sorely neglected. Feet are awesome. Especially mine.
How are your feet doing?
One thing that sucks about wintery type weather is that one must wear shoes, and the sucky thing about shoes, aside from making ones feet feel all strange and in-shoes which one is really not used to, and ones feet not feeling the wet and dry and cold and warm and the ground beneath ones feet, all of which suck especially given the claustrophobic state of one's feet so basically coming to the conclusion that wearing one's shoes is a necessary evil...... in the summer/spring/autumn I don't need to cut my toenails nearly as often.
Its not like they get so long they tap on the ground or anything as feral as that, its just that my feet are all free and happy and unconstrained and my toenails get cut...you know....whenever.
The real pisser about wearing shoes is that ones toes are all squashed up unnaturally and smoosh into each other and if a nail on one toe is ever so slightly longer or even out of line with its comrades, then one finds their toes being cut to shit by each other. So to cut a long story short, I have an ouchie on my toe, caused by my other toe, which is obviously making its case that being all mashed up in shoes sucks when you're a toe. Or, indeed, an entire foot.
I am so sorry feet, I hope it will only be for a few months, and then I will set you free, as the good Lord designed.
I'm a little drunk. But I really am quite fond of my feet. I think feet are sorely neglected. Feet are awesome. Especially mine.
How are your feet doing?
Friday, October 21, 2005
I'm thinking now, I've got a better way: I discovered a star, I've got a better way; ready, set, go; a new killer star, I've got a better way; stars in your eyes, I've got a better way; ready, set,go
Right then.
Enough of that. Its time for some linky lovin'.
New trailer for The Chronicles of Narnia. Check it, how fricking good does that movie look? Only, like REALLY FRICKING AWESOMELY GOOD!!!! Last Christmas (I gave you my heart....) I bought the complete set of books for my nephew and he was so excited because he'd heard about the movies and was especially excited when I told him I knew a centaur. Scary but true.
After you watch the trailer, you may like to take a look here to figure out exactly who owns that deliciously gorgeous voice of Aslan. Or, you may not be a big dumb thicko like yours truly and figure it out all by yourself.
Also in movie news, Mr Potter has a new trailer as well. Trailer number 2. Yep, just had to watch it again. According to some very disturbed friends of mine (you know who you are...), young Hermione is, and I quote, "a work in progress". At least in this trailer she is beginning to look a bit grown up. You're still sick bastards though.
I like this guy. I may have to buy him a drink. Or not.
Sara is having far too much fun, jet setting around Europe and generally being fabulous. Jealous much? Moi?
Speaking of things French, T-Dog is working on shifting the universe so that I may go to Paris for NYE. You know, just cos I can. We loves her, yes we do precious.
Otherwise, things are just tickety-boo and ka pai and all smoochies and love.
How about you?
EDIT: Chad Jeremy Eglinton, I have found your twin. And he is an evangelical Christian who has fathered 16 children (that he admits to...) see them in their scariness here. And here. Praise the Lord you are only twins on the outside.
Right then.
Enough of that. Its time for some linky lovin'.
New trailer for The Chronicles of Narnia. Check it, how fricking good does that movie look? Only, like REALLY FRICKING AWESOMELY GOOD!!!! Last Christmas (I gave you my heart....) I bought the complete set of books for my nephew and he was so excited because he'd heard about the movies and was especially excited when I told him I knew a centaur. Scary but true.
After you watch the trailer, you may like to take a look here to figure out exactly who owns that deliciously gorgeous voice of Aslan. Or, you may not be a big dumb thicko like yours truly and figure it out all by yourself.
Also in movie news, Mr Potter has a new trailer as well. Trailer number 2. Yep, just had to watch it again. According to some very disturbed friends of mine (you know who you are...), young Hermione is, and I quote, "a work in progress". At least in this trailer she is beginning to look a bit grown up. You're still sick bastards though.
I like this guy. I may have to buy him a drink. Or not.
Sara is having far too much fun, jet setting around Europe and generally being fabulous. Jealous much? Moi?
Speaking of things French, T-Dog is working on shifting the universe so that I may go to Paris for NYE. You know, just cos I can. We loves her, yes we do precious.
Otherwise, things are just tickety-boo and ka pai and all smoochies and love.
How about you?
EDIT: Chad Jeremy Eglinton, I have found your twin. And he is an evangelical Christian who has fathered 16 children (that he admits to...) see them in their scariness here. And here. Praise the Lord you are only twins on the outside.
Thursday, October 20, 2005
Hear those footsteps? Its Homeland Security, coming to kick my arse back home.
To my dear USA
Firstly I want to thank you for blessing the earth with so many wonderous things. ER, lightbulbs, Bob Dylan, Interpol, Lost, movies with Will Smith in them, and the Wilson brothers are all things that make this world a better place.
I really feel like we've got to know each other quite well in the last two and a half months that I have been living here, I almost would go so far as to say we have become friends.
However, as friends must do, I feel it is important to speak truthfully. No friend would let another carry on in a manner not befitting their potential, or in ways which may cause harm to themselves or other.
Therefore I feel I must offer you some words of advice, believe me, these are spoken as a friend.
- It is vital to the health of the nation that you immediately establish an independently run, state financed media company. Ask no questions, it must be done. I know, it seems counter intuitive to creating an independent media, but with the current state of play, business interests currently dictate the majority of content covered in the media. Base this new organisation on the model provided by the BBC in all its imperfect glory, and do not allow anybody remotely affiliated with the government or a business earning over a million dollars a year anywhere near it.
- Offending someone is NOT actually the worst thing that can happen. You must learn to accept the fact that people are going to be offended by most things. Some of the time when they do, the only thing one can do in response is turn to them and say "get over it". In keeping with this, stop bleeping out swear words on the telly. If you are able to support a government that is responsible for the deaths of an estimated 26-30 000 Iraqi civilians, you can handle a few "fuck"s on public television.
- Stop whining about the cost of petrol. The rest of the world pays way more than you and are happy to do so. Petrol should be expensive, it should discourage you from using your cars unneccesarily. Because cars mean pollution, and pollution means climate change and depleted ozone layers and through-the-roof skin cancer rates and bleached coral reefs and rising oceans and destroyed ecosystems and dirty air and extinct animal species.
- Accept that the men who wrote the constitution were in fact wrong about the whole gun thing. It happens. Deal with it, round up all the guns, melt them down and build playgrounds and indestructable levees with the remains. As an alternative, follow Mr Chris Rock's idea of making bullets prohibitively expensive. "I'm gonna go away, get a second job, save up all my money, and then come back and shoot you".
- I know you talk a lot about freedom and equality and the like, but I'm not sure you really have a grip on a basic fact. Skin colour and Y chromosomes do not a person define.
- Learn to spell. See: dialogue, catalogue, colour, labour, globalisation, aluminium, programme etc.
- Halve the yearly intake of every single law school in the country. If there weren't so many lawyers, you would not have this problem of opportunistic lawyers chasing ambulances and advertising on the telly that they can help me get appropriate compensation for having been injured at work. These people are doing the devil's work.
- Spend more money on drug education, rehabilitation and work with at-risk youth than you spend on locking them up. It is a truth universally acknowledged that prison is where petty thieves become hardened criminals.
- Stop glamourising war. Its not nice. Its yucky and messy and people die with bits of them falling out of their bodies and they do horrible things and nine times out of ten (note: I invented this statistic) the purpose is not security or some noble national good but to line the pockets of those who already have a gajillion dollars and the blood of a thousand idealistic youths on their hands.
- Stop sticking your noses in other people's business. (see Nicaragua, Israel, Venezuela, Iraq etc) If we need your help on an international effort, we'll be sure to give you a call. We know you have a big shiny military and want to keep it in business, but there is such a thing as international law, national security and the UN. OK thats three things.
- If you're really keen on fighting a war on terror you won't need guns. You'll need development aid, respect for foreign cultures, education and food packages and understanding. Also, following the above will help you no end. You would also do well to have a wee look in the mirror from time to time (what is the only country EVER to be convicted of terrorism by the international court?)
- Medicine, education and defence are not meant to be profit making enterprises.
- Not all brown people are Arabs, not all Middle Easterners are Arabs, not all Arabs are terrorists, not all Muslims are terrorists, not all people who oppose you are terrorists, not all terrorists are without a valid point.
- Remember the following maxim, repeat it daily: Regime change begins at home.
- Tell ABC that if they DARE kill Sawyer on Lost I will personally go to LA, find the person responsible, and kick seven shades of shit out of them.
Don't get me wrong, you're doing a great job. The beer is cheap, the university keeps giving me money for just showing up, and most nights theres a great programme on the telly.
I just want my friends to be able to live up to their full potential. I would offer the same advice to any of my friends. Sarah, quit smoking. See?
Thanks for listening, its great to have friends like you around.
Love, Claire
To my dear USA
Firstly I want to thank you for blessing the earth with so many wonderous things. ER, lightbulbs, Bob Dylan, Interpol, Lost, movies with Will Smith in them, and the Wilson brothers are all things that make this world a better place.
I really feel like we've got to know each other quite well in the last two and a half months that I have been living here, I almost would go so far as to say we have become friends.
However, as friends must do, I feel it is important to speak truthfully. No friend would let another carry on in a manner not befitting their potential, or in ways which may cause harm to themselves or other.
Therefore I feel I must offer you some words of advice, believe me, these are spoken as a friend.
- It is vital to the health of the nation that you immediately establish an independently run, state financed media company. Ask no questions, it must be done. I know, it seems counter intuitive to creating an independent media, but with the current state of play, business interests currently dictate the majority of content covered in the media. Base this new organisation on the model provided by the BBC in all its imperfect glory, and do not allow anybody remotely affiliated with the government or a business earning over a million dollars a year anywhere near it.
- Offending someone is NOT actually the worst thing that can happen. You must learn to accept the fact that people are going to be offended by most things. Some of the time when they do, the only thing one can do in response is turn to them and say "get over it". In keeping with this, stop bleeping out swear words on the telly. If you are able to support a government that is responsible for the deaths of an estimated 26-30 000 Iraqi civilians, you can handle a few "fuck"s on public television.
- Stop whining about the cost of petrol. The rest of the world pays way more than you and are happy to do so. Petrol should be expensive, it should discourage you from using your cars unneccesarily. Because cars mean pollution, and pollution means climate change and depleted ozone layers and through-the-roof skin cancer rates and bleached coral reefs and rising oceans and destroyed ecosystems and dirty air and extinct animal species.
- Accept that the men who wrote the constitution were in fact wrong about the whole gun thing. It happens. Deal with it, round up all the guns, melt them down and build playgrounds and indestructable levees with the remains. As an alternative, follow Mr Chris Rock's idea of making bullets prohibitively expensive. "I'm gonna go away, get a second job, save up all my money, and then come back and shoot you".
- I know you talk a lot about freedom and equality and the like, but I'm not sure you really have a grip on a basic fact. Skin colour and Y chromosomes do not a person define.
- Learn to spell. See: dialogue, catalogue, colour, labour, globalisation, aluminium, programme etc.
- Halve the yearly intake of every single law school in the country. If there weren't so many lawyers, you would not have this problem of opportunistic lawyers chasing ambulances and advertising on the telly that they can help me get appropriate compensation for having been injured at work. These people are doing the devil's work.
- Spend more money on drug education, rehabilitation and work with at-risk youth than you spend on locking them up. It is a truth universally acknowledged that prison is where petty thieves become hardened criminals.
- Stop glamourising war. Its not nice. Its yucky and messy and people die with bits of them falling out of their bodies and they do horrible things and nine times out of ten (note: I invented this statistic) the purpose is not security or some noble national good but to line the pockets of those who already have a gajillion dollars and the blood of a thousand idealistic youths on their hands.
- Stop sticking your noses in other people's business. (see Nicaragua, Israel, Venezuela, Iraq etc) If we need your help on an international effort, we'll be sure to give you a call. We know you have a big shiny military and want to keep it in business, but there is such a thing as international law, national security and the UN. OK thats three things.
- If you're really keen on fighting a war on terror you won't need guns. You'll need development aid, respect for foreign cultures, education and food packages and understanding. Also, following the above will help you no end. You would also do well to have a wee look in the mirror from time to time (what is the only country EVER to be convicted of terrorism by the international court?)
- Medicine, education and defence are not meant to be profit making enterprises.
- Not all brown people are Arabs, not all Middle Easterners are Arabs, not all Arabs are terrorists, not all Muslims are terrorists, not all people who oppose you are terrorists, not all terrorists are without a valid point.
- Remember the following maxim, repeat it daily: Regime change begins at home.
- Tell ABC that if they DARE kill Sawyer on Lost I will personally go to LA, find the person responsible, and kick seven shades of shit out of them.
Don't get me wrong, you're doing a great job. The beer is cheap, the university keeps giving me money for just showing up, and most nights theres a great programme on the telly.
I just want my friends to be able to live up to their full potential. I would offer the same advice to any of my friends. Sarah, quit smoking. See?
Thanks for listening, its great to have friends like you around.
Love, Claire
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
This ain't rock and roll, this is GENOCIDE!!!!!
Heq, this one is for you.
Here is my arse.
Yep, you saw it here first. Unless you saw it in these comments, in which case you saw it here second.
Today I was invited by my advisor to have dinner with him and the aforementioned Princeton Professor. I guess that means I have to do the readings, don't I? Bollocks.
Also in the news today, best email subject line EVAH!!!!! c/o- Titty Turner
"I'll Paris your Hilton if you Roger my Federer"
Heq, this one is for you.
Here is my arse.
Yep, you saw it here first. Unless you saw it in these comments, in which case you saw it here second.
Today I was invited by my advisor to have dinner with him and the aforementioned Princeton Professor. I guess that means I have to do the readings, don't I? Bollocks.
Also in the news today, best email subject line EVAH!!!!! c/o- Titty Turner
"I'll Paris your Hilton if you Roger my Federer"
Monday, October 17, 2005
Planet Earth is blue, and there's nothing I can do...
I am stressed.
The problem with this is that I really don't do that much about it. After the slackness that was my weekend (home from roadtrip late Saturday, spent Sunday doing washing and at a stretch, 2 hours of work) I tried really hard to do work today, but the bloody internets kept calling me to play. And now my shoulders are all crunchy and sore because I've been sitting at my desk all day and am worried and whenever I'm worried I carry tension in my shoulders and then they go crunchy and are hurty. So, what have I achieved today? I wrote the introduction to my political science paper that I have to give to the class tomorrow, because we get to critique each others papers. Fun. Like cancer. And the one I wrote is complete arse. I have a list of things that is wrong with it already that ideally I will fix in the morning but I probably won't because I'm a loser and haven't done the readings for tomorrow's class yet and I think I might have to hand in a research proposal for my public administration class on Wednesday morning. I haven't even thought about that yet. Nor have I started on the readings for that class, notes on which I have to hand in during class. There is some bigwig guy coming to my Friday class from Princeton (ooooohhhh!!! Princeton!!!!! bite me.) and we have to read some of his shit by then too and I haven't even started. I think its sitting on my desk at uni, but I'm really not sure. I appear to be having some sort of brain malfunction where all my motivation is trickling out my ears while I sleep and I can't seem to find any more.
And of course, there is the work I have to do for my graduate assistantship. Arse loads of readings, because I have to write an article by Christmas break. And said article is not something that I can just make up, its a state of the field literature review, so I have to read lots. And lots. And lots.
And the real pisser is that I can't sacrifice one thing for the sake of the others because I have to maintain a 3.5 gpa LIKE FOREVER or the university will stop giving me all the money they keep giving me for just showing up. Nazis.
Speaking of which....
...the biggest xenophobe in NZ has just been made Minister of Foreign affairs.
Come back, Mr Goff, all is forgiven!!!
Maybe Winston has something over the PM and hes blackmailing her. It makes more sense than any other explanation I can think of.
(ha! do you think we'll see Winston at OFPS next year? I'm coming home just for that!!)
I'm considering instituting a Bowie Lyrics only as Blog Titles rule for a while. Hot or not?
Stuff what I need:
- someone to send me the new Phoenix Foundation CD.
- a physiotherapist/chiropractor/osteopath/all of the above for a boyfriend
- a nice hot Milo
- some more quarters cos I used all mine doing the washing
- a local branch of Obsessive Email And Blog Comment Checkers Anonymous
- Tara to get New Years off work so I can go live it up in Paris with her.
- to go to bed. Nighty night.
This post blows goats.
I am stressed.
The problem with this is that I really don't do that much about it. After the slackness that was my weekend (home from roadtrip late Saturday, spent Sunday doing washing and at a stretch, 2 hours of work) I tried really hard to do work today, but the bloody internets kept calling me to play. And now my shoulders are all crunchy and sore because I've been sitting at my desk all day and am worried and whenever I'm worried I carry tension in my shoulders and then they go crunchy and are hurty. So, what have I achieved today? I wrote the introduction to my political science paper that I have to give to the class tomorrow, because we get to critique each others papers. Fun. Like cancer. And the one I wrote is complete arse. I have a list of things that is wrong with it already that ideally I will fix in the morning but I probably won't because I'm a loser and haven't done the readings for tomorrow's class yet and I think I might have to hand in a research proposal for my public administration class on Wednesday morning. I haven't even thought about that yet. Nor have I started on the readings for that class, notes on which I have to hand in during class. There is some bigwig guy coming to my Friday class from Princeton (ooooohhhh!!! Princeton!!!!! bite me.) and we have to read some of his shit by then too and I haven't even started. I think its sitting on my desk at uni, but I'm really not sure. I appear to be having some sort of brain malfunction where all my motivation is trickling out my ears while I sleep and I can't seem to find any more.
And of course, there is the work I have to do for my graduate assistantship. Arse loads of readings, because I have to write an article by Christmas break. And said article is not something that I can just make up, its a state of the field literature review, so I have to read lots. And lots. And lots.
And the real pisser is that I can't sacrifice one thing for the sake of the others because I have to maintain a 3.5 gpa LIKE FOREVER or the university will stop giving me all the money they keep giving me for just showing up. Nazis.
Speaking of which....
...the biggest xenophobe in NZ has just been made Minister of Foreign affairs.
Come back, Mr Goff, all is forgiven!!!
Maybe Winston has something over the PM and hes blackmailing her. It makes more sense than any other explanation I can think of.
(ha! do you think we'll see Winston at OFPS next year? I'm coming home just for that!!)
I'm considering instituting a Bowie Lyrics only as Blog Titles rule for a while. Hot or not?
Stuff what I need:
- someone to send me the new Phoenix Foundation CD.
- a physiotherapist/chiropractor/osteopath/all of the above for a boyfriend
- a nice hot Milo
- some more quarters cos I used all mine doing the washing
- a local branch of Obsessive Email And Blog Comment Checkers Anonymous
- Tara to get New Years off work so I can go live it up in Paris with her.
- to go to bed. Nighty night.
This post blows goats.
Sunday, October 16, 2005
Road Trip: the inside story
Made it to Buffalo in one piece. Just.
My chaffeur was most obliging
And looked just SUPER in my sunglasses.
He also took a shine to Lindsay's care bears. Frightening, to say the least, but I'm sure his mum will love this shot.
But the real reason for the trip, Mr Matthew Good, was awesome.
Then we went to Canada
Saw Niagara Falls
Found some cheap Beaver...
And came home.
The End.
Here is the promised after shot. Beware, its pretty scary.
Oh, how the mighty have fallen.
EDIT: Click here for me getting down with my bad self.
I am converting the Americans to the fine sounds of Concorde Dawn. Respeck.
Made it to Buffalo in one piece. Just.
My chaffeur was most obliging
And looked just SUPER in my sunglasses.
He also took a shine to Lindsay's care bears. Frightening, to say the least, but I'm sure his mum will love this shot.
But the real reason for the trip, Mr Matthew Good, was awesome.
Then we went to Canada
Saw Niagara Falls
Found some cheap Beaver...
And came home.
The End.
Here is the promised after shot. Beware, its pretty scary.
Oh, how the mighty have fallen.
EDIT: Click here for me getting down with my bad self.
I am converting the Americans to the fine sounds of Concorde Dawn. Respeck.
Saturday, October 15, 2005
Its ok Mum, I made it back alive.
Computer is being all slow so no piccies yet, plus am too tired to blog. Its transferring all my music from Windows Media in iTunes, and has been going for about two hours, and has only done 847 songs, out of over 1000.
Matt Good was awesome, as was my weekend with Lindsay and Mike. Niagara Falls was also cool, and Canadian money is different colours. As are all sensible currencies.
I have an "after" shot of yours truly to compare to the ones below, so come back tomorrow, same bat time, same bat channel, and witness the glory.
Smoochies.
Computer is being all slow so no piccies yet, plus am too tired to blog. Its transferring all my music from Windows Media in iTunes, and has been going for about two hours, and has only done 847 songs, out of over 1000.
Matt Good was awesome, as was my weekend with Lindsay and Mike. Niagara Falls was also cool, and Canadian money is different colours. As are all sensible currencies.
I have an "after" shot of yours truly to compare to the ones below, so come back tomorrow, same bat time, same bat channel, and witness the glory.
Smoochies.
Friday, October 14, 2005
The Before Shots
I am sitting here waiting for Mikey to come and pick me up, for we are going on a road trip.
Yes, we're going to see Mr Good in Buffalo, and quite possibly drink some beer.
So I wanted you all to see the before shots, for the purpose of comparison.
One last look.
Oh dear. This could be fun.
I am sitting here waiting for Mikey to come and pick me up, for we are going on a road trip.
Yes, we're going to see Mr Good in Buffalo, and quite possibly drink some beer.
So I wanted you all to see the before shots, for the purpose of comparison.
One last look.
Oh dear. This could be fun.
Thursday, October 13, 2005
Some people want diamond rings,
Some just want everything,
But everything means nothing,
If I ain't got you
So I was sitting here working away all quietly and happily and all of a sudden a great big sad comes and slaps me upside the head and now i'm sitting here all upset because I miss these two and their brother so much I don't know what to do with myself. How to convince my sister to relocate her kids here?
Shit.
EDIT: I just called my sister and talked to her, my brother in law and each of the three children. After I had been talking to my sister for a while, Snotface (in red above) grabbed the phone back so she could say "I love you" to me again.
Am happy now.
Some just want everything,
But everything means nothing,
If I ain't got you
So I was sitting here working away all quietly and happily and all of a sudden a great big sad comes and slaps me upside the head and now i'm sitting here all upset because I miss these two and their brother so much I don't know what to do with myself. How to convince my sister to relocate her kids here?
Shit.
EDIT: I just called my sister and talked to her, my brother in law and each of the three children. After I had been talking to my sister for a while, Snotface (in red above) grabbed the phone back so she could say "I love you" to me again.
Am happy now.
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
If you could see yourself now baby, it's not my fault, you used to be so in control, you're going to roll right over this one
Things that suck
- earthquakes. My flatmate is from Islamabad, and when she came home after hearing the news of the quake, her face was grey. After many long and horrible hours on the phone and internet, she discovered that her family is one of the lucky ones. They were not physically harmed, but because of the quake and the aftershocks, her three year old cousin is so horrifically traumatised he will not speak or let go of his parents. That child will probably never be the same, and yet he is one of the lucky ones. Her family have lost close friends, and heard the people trapped in fallen apartment buildings crying out for help when nobody was available.
- mudslides. I don't have a personal anecdote for this one, but it still sucks mightily.
- the current US government. One really gets a taste for just how incredibly it sucks living under it. Bush bad.
- Robert Mugabe.
- wet socks
- chapters in text books that have to be read and are entitled "Quasi-Experimental Designs That Either Lack a Control Group or Lack Pretest Observations on the Outcome". No, I am not making this up.
- Mean people
- those fuckers that use live cats and dogs for sharkbait. I have seen the picture and can't get the image of that dog's face out of my head. I would really like to use the people that do that as live bait. For really hungry bad tempered premenstrual angry bears and tigers. And target practice.
- The fact that I can't afford to go home for Christmas
- missing Rosie's birthday
Things that don't suck at all
- me
- Going on a road trip this Friday
- the following quote from my very funny political science prof, heard in today's class: "anarchy is not a desk".
- my moo boots
- Saranac Adirondack Lager
- the fact that my mum will be here in less than three weeks
- the phenomenal supermarket mission I went on last night. Four different shops, enough food to last for weeks, less than a hundred dollars
- my black Doosh pants
- Thai sweet chilli sauce
- blogging
- Bowie
- being within $600 of Paris (hi Tara. J'adore.)
- having the self control to step away from the blog and get started on one's readings for tomorrow mornings class.
Things that suck
- earthquakes. My flatmate is from Islamabad, and when she came home after hearing the news of the quake, her face was grey. After many long and horrible hours on the phone and internet, she discovered that her family is one of the lucky ones. They were not physically harmed, but because of the quake and the aftershocks, her three year old cousin is so horrifically traumatised he will not speak or let go of his parents. That child will probably never be the same, and yet he is one of the lucky ones. Her family have lost close friends, and heard the people trapped in fallen apartment buildings crying out for help when nobody was available.
- mudslides. I don't have a personal anecdote for this one, but it still sucks mightily.
- the current US government. One really gets a taste for just how incredibly it sucks living under it. Bush bad.
- Robert Mugabe.
- wet socks
- chapters in text books that have to be read and are entitled "Quasi-Experimental Designs That Either Lack a Control Group or Lack Pretest Observations on the Outcome". No, I am not making this up.
- Mean people
- those fuckers that use live cats and dogs for sharkbait. I have seen the picture and can't get the image of that dog's face out of my head. I would really like to use the people that do that as live bait. For really hungry bad tempered premenstrual angry bears and tigers. And target practice.
- The fact that I can't afford to go home for Christmas
- missing Rosie's birthday
Things that don't suck at all
- me
- Going on a road trip this Friday
- the following quote from my very funny political science prof, heard in today's class: "anarchy is not a desk".
- my moo boots
- Saranac Adirondack Lager
- the fact that my mum will be here in less than three weeks
- the phenomenal supermarket mission I went on last night. Four different shops, enough food to last for weeks, less than a hundred dollars
- my black Doosh pants
- Thai sweet chilli sauce
- blogging
- Bowie
- being within $600 of Paris (hi Tara. J'adore.)
- having the self control to step away from the blog and get started on one's readings for tomorrow mornings class.
Sunday, October 09, 2005
I am on your side, I'm so alive....
Theres something quite strange about time in this country. In New Zealand a day lasts for a full 24 hours, but here I'm sure there are a few less. Take today for example. I had a wee sleep in, then got up and reinflated my stability ball so I could do my six-weekly sit ups. Then I went and got a cup of tea and read a few emails and blogs, and got to work. Working away, checking up on the news every now and again, and occasionally checking blogs in the obsessive manner to which I am accustomed. Next thing, its half past five. That was about an hour ago, and now its after 8pm.
Perhaps central New York exists within some blip in the space-time continuum.
Perhaps I can manipulate it and get my twenties back.
Either way I'm missing the West Wing.
Theres something quite strange about time in this country. In New Zealand a day lasts for a full 24 hours, but here I'm sure there are a few less. Take today for example. I had a wee sleep in, then got up and reinflated my stability ball so I could do my six-weekly sit ups. Then I went and got a cup of tea and read a few emails and blogs, and got to work. Working away, checking up on the news every now and again, and occasionally checking blogs in the obsessive manner to which I am accustomed. Next thing, its half past five. That was about an hour ago, and now its after 8pm.
Perhaps central New York exists within some blip in the space-time continuum.
Perhaps I can manipulate it and get my twenties back.
Either way I'm missing the West Wing.
Saturday, October 08, 2005
Thursday, October 06, 2005
Via email...
Me: I have to go to the dreaded Mall this weekend. Wanna come with?
BBM: I can go Friday, or late afternoon/early evening Saturday. In exchange, I will charge a hefty fee.
Me: The mind it doth boggle.
BBM: You were almost solicited last night...
Me: You trying to sell my arse again? Once someone tried to sell me to a Ukranian sailor for five camels, so you'd have to do better than that.
BBM: actually, i was thinking of putting the arse to use. i can always sell it later.
Me: I thought I had made it quite clear what you were and weren't allowed to do to my arse.
BBM: its a metaphor deary
Me: You need to explain these things to me. I'm pretty thick.
BBM: in american parlayance to say "i want some booty," or "i want some ass," simply means sex.
Me: No, REALLY?!?! All your other booty calls refusing to take your calls, are they?
BBM: Nice one... but more likely that they would wish they were the flavor I want today. I have a taste for something.... south Pacific.
Me: I'm very busy and important and afraid I don't have time to concern myself with your depraved sexual appetites
BBM: How unfortunate... for you.
Me: Don't pretend you're not crying on the inside.
BBM: Perhaps the restaurant is out of the special, but there is always another dish on the menu. I guess I'll have to have French tonight...
Me: You have hot French chicks sitting around waiting for you to call?
BBM: As my pappy used to say, when your shit does not stink, there is no need to tell everybody
Me: This entire conversation is going on my blog
BBM: ...(resounding silence)...
Me: I have to go to the dreaded Mall this weekend. Wanna come with?
BBM: I can go Friday, or late afternoon/early evening Saturday. In exchange, I will charge a hefty fee.
Me: The mind it doth boggle.
BBM: You were almost solicited last night...
Me: You trying to sell my arse again? Once someone tried to sell me to a Ukranian sailor for five camels, so you'd have to do better than that.
BBM: actually, i was thinking of putting the arse to use. i can always sell it later.
Me: I thought I had made it quite clear what you were and weren't allowed to do to my arse.
BBM: its a metaphor deary
Me: You need to explain these things to me. I'm pretty thick.
BBM: in american parlayance to say "i want some booty," or "i want some ass," simply means sex.
Me: No, REALLY?!?! All your other booty calls refusing to take your calls, are they?
BBM: Nice one... but more likely that they would wish they were the flavor I want today. I have a taste for something.... south Pacific.
Me: I'm very busy and important and afraid I don't have time to concern myself with your depraved sexual appetites
BBM: How unfortunate... for you.
Me: Don't pretend you're not crying on the inside.
BBM: Perhaps the restaurant is out of the special, but there is always another dish on the menu. I guess I'll have to have French tonight...
Me: You have hot French chicks sitting around waiting for you to call?
BBM: As my pappy used to say, when your shit does not stink, there is no need to tell everybody
Me: This entire conversation is going on my blog
BBM: ...(resounding silence)...
Wednesday, October 05, 2005
Grrr. Argh.
12.21 am. I have just finished the 70 pages of reading for my class tomorrow morning, one ABSOLUTELY FASCINATING chapter on statistical conclusion validity and internal validity, and another INCREDIBLY INTERESTING chapter on construct validity and external validity.
I am prepared to admit that if I had in fact begun these readings prior to 7.45pm my life would suck less, but hey.
This just in: I'm sick of all my music. Because I suck, I've got all my music loaded on dirty old windows media player, and it SUCKS LIKE A SUCKY THING at shuffle. It plays the same 100 songs over and over again, which is just dumb because there are....checking....1203 songs on there. So, I've been getting all technical-like and listening to internet radio, which doesn't suck very much at all.
Not like the radio stations here, which suck like a bad, bad donkey. And to really rub salt into the wound of radio-suckiness in the 'Cuse, the mighty rdu is not currently streaming live. So yay for aol indie radio, at least I think thats what its called.
I just had to give Mike directions to my house to pick me up next weekend for the Buffalo/Matthew Good mission. Funny. I have no fucking idea how to get to my house. Thank the good lord for google maps, I say. Wizzo.
At last count, we have managed to get Pitt's comments up to 380.
I have a right cunt of a headache.
I have used variants of "suck" seven times so far in this post. Oh wait, that makes eight. Shit.
I did a dumb test, and I'm a sex goddess, or something. I knew it. I just have to convince Viggo.
12.21 am. I have just finished the 70 pages of reading for my class tomorrow morning, one ABSOLUTELY FASCINATING chapter on statistical conclusion validity and internal validity, and another INCREDIBLY INTERESTING chapter on construct validity and external validity.
I am prepared to admit that if I had in fact begun these readings prior to 7.45pm my life would suck less, but hey.
This just in: I'm sick of all my music. Because I suck, I've got all my music loaded on dirty old windows media player, and it SUCKS LIKE A SUCKY THING at shuffle. It plays the same 100 songs over and over again, which is just dumb because there are....checking....1203 songs on there. So, I've been getting all technical-like and listening to internet radio, which doesn't suck very much at all.
Not like the radio stations here, which suck like a bad, bad donkey. And to really rub salt into the wound of radio-suckiness in the 'Cuse, the mighty rdu is not currently streaming live. So yay for aol indie radio, at least I think thats what its called.
I just had to give Mike directions to my house to pick me up next weekend for the Buffalo/Matthew Good mission. Funny. I have no fucking idea how to get to my house. Thank the good lord for google maps, I say. Wizzo.
At last count, we have managed to get Pitt's comments up to 380.
I have a right cunt of a headache.
I have used variants of "suck" seven times so far in this post. Oh wait, that makes eight. Shit.
I did a dumb test, and I'm a sex goddess, or something. I knew it. I just have to convince Viggo.
Monday, October 03, 2005
In Which Claire Misses her Old Job
I've just finished watching "Kitchen Confidential". Yes, the one based on Anthony Bourdain's very famous book. Its a pretty good programme, and makes me laugh, but it also serves the purpose of reminding me of a few things.
Firstly, I miss the kitchen. Its insane, and hot, and my God it is so hard on your body, but theres a certain mad energy that comes from putting out 40 meals an hour and its addictive. You start work in the middle of the afternoon and the first few hours are a frantic rush to get everything prepped (Mise en plus, if you're posh) in time for service, then about 6 o'clock you get five minutes to stuff some food in your mouth, knock back three short espressos and smoke four cigarettes before the madness begins. Then there's about three or four hours in which you literally don't have time to stop even for a minute, because there's always ten things on the grill, and five pans on the go, and you're both screaming at and being screamed at by fellow chefs and wait staff and trying to coordinate the larder chef with the meats chef and get clean plates from the kitchenhand and get the wait staff to get this fucking food out now if they send it back because its gone cold it'll be your guts for garters why can't wait staff take their jobs seriously and all the while you're trying to find three seconds to get some water in your mouth because its hotter than hell and there is sweat running down your front and your back and in the summer down your legs too and it runs down your face and gets in your eyes and then your fingers and legs start to cramp up because you're having major salt deficiencies because you've sweated out every mineral known to man and a couple of others nobody has heard of and then all of a sudden its "last order in" and you collapse out the back of the kitchen with a bucket sized cup (no glass in kitchens) of coca cola because you need the sugar and caffeine because once you've got your breath back you have to clean the kitchen from base to apex.
And all the while you're supposed to keep your cool, because you're a professional, and not throw your very expensive knives at people, no matter how much they might be begging for it. And you get home at 2am and can't sleep until four because you're so buzzed from work, and then you get up at midday and do the whole thing again.
And strangely enough, I miss that. I miss the madness and the energy and the creativity and working as a team and the satisfaction of having done a really good job. Secretly I also think one of the reasons I miss it is because I miss the gratification of having visible results to my work. I put the effort in, I cook something awesome, and for a second before the wait person takes it out, I can see that I made something good.
You don't so much get that in academia.
Also, I miss playing with my knives.
Another reason I think I miss cooking professionally is the sheer earthy pleasure of it all. You push your body to its limit, but then you reward yourself with the finest food, and good wine, and life becomes far more focused on the sheer physical and tangible delights of the culinary arts.
I have been thinking recently about things like body image and food, and I have come to some decisions.
I could be thin.
I could stop eating beautiful crumbly Danish feta, and hand made tortillas and chili I made from scratch and grilled chicken salads with olive oil, basil croutons and blue cheese dressing and Indian style curried vegetables with cashews and peanut satay stirfrys and corn crackers with organic peanut butter and spaghetti bolognaise and stop drinking a glass of wine with most of my meals and cut down on the raw sugar I put in my tea and always say no to dessert.
I could do all that.
But really, whats the point?
I would be thin, but what else. If anyone can tell me a reason, besides being thin, why I should give up all those beautiful things, I would be keen to hear it.
I think I would be miserable as all fuck.
I don't believe that one should eat everything that comes across ones path, and I've noticed especially in this country that there is a lot of really average food out there, and I do believe we have a responsibility to those around us to stay healthy, but to deny oneself the purest pleasure of good food, cooked well and enjoyed without guilt, is to deny oneself an essential part of life. Good food doesn't mean its bad for you. Most of the time in fact, the opposite is true, its just that so often people are hung up on the latest fad diet. We've been cooking food as long as we've been around, I think we might have got a couple of things right, don't you?
We have to eat, there is no way around it. It really does my loaf that so many people have so many hangups about food (especially women) because it can bring so much pleasure.
Food is sensual, in every meaning of the word, and why live on rice crackers and celery when there are literally worlds of gastronomic pleasure out there waiting to be explored.
So you can be thin?
Seems like too high a price for me.
I've just finished watching "Kitchen Confidential". Yes, the one based on Anthony Bourdain's very famous book. Its a pretty good programme, and makes me laugh, but it also serves the purpose of reminding me of a few things.
Firstly, I miss the kitchen. Its insane, and hot, and my God it is so hard on your body, but theres a certain mad energy that comes from putting out 40 meals an hour and its addictive. You start work in the middle of the afternoon and the first few hours are a frantic rush to get everything prepped (Mise en plus, if you're posh) in time for service, then about 6 o'clock you get five minutes to stuff some food in your mouth, knock back three short espressos and smoke four cigarettes before the madness begins. Then there's about three or four hours in which you literally don't have time to stop even for a minute, because there's always ten things on the grill, and five pans on the go, and you're both screaming at and being screamed at by fellow chefs and wait staff and trying to coordinate the larder chef with the meats chef and get clean plates from the kitchenhand and get the wait staff to get this fucking food out now if they send it back because its gone cold it'll be your guts for garters why can't wait staff take their jobs seriously and all the while you're trying to find three seconds to get some water in your mouth because its hotter than hell and there is sweat running down your front and your back and in the summer down your legs too and it runs down your face and gets in your eyes and then your fingers and legs start to cramp up because you're having major salt deficiencies because you've sweated out every mineral known to man and a couple of others nobody has heard of and then all of a sudden its "last order in" and you collapse out the back of the kitchen with a bucket sized cup (no glass in kitchens) of coca cola because you need the sugar and caffeine because once you've got your breath back you have to clean the kitchen from base to apex.
And all the while you're supposed to keep your cool, because you're a professional, and not throw your very expensive knives at people, no matter how much they might be begging for it. And you get home at 2am and can't sleep until four because you're so buzzed from work, and then you get up at midday and do the whole thing again.
And strangely enough, I miss that. I miss the madness and the energy and the creativity and working as a team and the satisfaction of having done a really good job. Secretly I also think one of the reasons I miss it is because I miss the gratification of having visible results to my work. I put the effort in, I cook something awesome, and for a second before the wait person takes it out, I can see that I made something good.
You don't so much get that in academia.
Also, I miss playing with my knives.
Another reason I think I miss cooking professionally is the sheer earthy pleasure of it all. You push your body to its limit, but then you reward yourself with the finest food, and good wine, and life becomes far more focused on the sheer physical and tangible delights of the culinary arts.
I have been thinking recently about things like body image and food, and I have come to some decisions.
I could be thin.
I could stop eating beautiful crumbly Danish feta, and hand made tortillas and chili I made from scratch and grilled chicken salads with olive oil, basil croutons and blue cheese dressing and Indian style curried vegetables with cashews and peanut satay stirfrys and corn crackers with organic peanut butter and spaghetti bolognaise and stop drinking a glass of wine with most of my meals and cut down on the raw sugar I put in my tea and always say no to dessert.
I could do all that.
But really, whats the point?
I would be thin, but what else. If anyone can tell me a reason, besides being thin, why I should give up all those beautiful things, I would be keen to hear it.
I think I would be miserable as all fuck.
I don't believe that one should eat everything that comes across ones path, and I've noticed especially in this country that there is a lot of really average food out there, and I do believe we have a responsibility to those around us to stay healthy, but to deny oneself the purest pleasure of good food, cooked well and enjoyed without guilt, is to deny oneself an essential part of life. Good food doesn't mean its bad for you. Most of the time in fact, the opposite is true, its just that so often people are hung up on the latest fad diet. We've been cooking food as long as we've been around, I think we might have got a couple of things right, don't you?
We have to eat, there is no way around it. It really does my loaf that so many people have so many hangups about food (especially women) because it can bring so much pleasure.
Food is sensual, in every meaning of the word, and why live on rice crackers and celery when there are literally worlds of gastronomic pleasure out there waiting to be explored.
So you can be thin?
Seems like too high a price for me.
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