Putting on my daytime eyes, a good enough disguise until I get some sleep
Further proof of my reign as Queen of Geeksville.
Tonight in my civil/military relations class, there was discussion of the role of the military in times of crisis, and whether the powers that be have the right to call upon the military to act in a policing fashion. This is a significant issue, because the key difference between the military and the police is that the military protects the state against threats to security, while the police maintain law and order amongst the civilians. One person was pleading the case that perhaps there was a need to call upon the military to cross this line in certain situations, and I was saying no, and offering my reasons why. See above.
Now I have this thing sometimes when I'll think something and I'll accidentally say it out loud before my brain has had a proper chance to process the thought and decide whether or not it merits being spoken.
Tonight I had one of those moments.
Quote: "Its just like that episode of Battlestar Galactica, when the civilians are rioting on the ships and the president asks Commander Adama to send some troops in to stop them fighting, and he says that they are the military not the police and its not their role to maintain law and order....."
.....silence in the classroom.....
"Er, like what, Claire?"
"Ummmm......nothing......."
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
Sunday, January 29, 2006
Out amongst the walking wounded, every face on every bus
Blogger photos doesn't like this photo. I tried to upload it and there was a big grey mess with the photo in the corner and because I am mildly retarded I don't know how to fix it so here we are back with photobucket.
I have been doing weekend stuff this weekend. Things that normal people do on the weekends, albeit supplemented by much reading of Jagdish Bhagwati and some stuff on coups.
Friday: had dinner at my friend's house, with some other people, drank some wine, talked some shit.
Saturday: cooked for two of my friends, drank some wine, talked some shit, listened to my friends talk about stuff I don't understand. All good.
Sometimes I will be talking some shit about something and I'll mention my blog and occasionally the reaction is "You have a blog? Email me the link!" and sometimes I'm reluctant to which is weird (thats a difficult word to spell) because I think there are so many versions of me that perhaps my school friends don't need to know all the shit I spout about school and my life and how retarded I am and how much I miss my sisters and the munchkins and my mum and dad and all the people I love in NZ and all the shite that my brain manages to produce on a daily basis plus the emotional crises I seem to produce at regular intervals.
Holy crap its nearly ten o'clock!
Anyway I did that on Friday and my friend goes "email me the link" so after thinking about it I did and now we should all welcome Brendan to the fold, pull up a chair, have a cup of tea and enjoy the madness.
In the manner of all good guests, Brendan did not show up empty handed, and we can thank him and his cellphone camera for these charming photos of yours truly.
OK perhaps charming is the wrong word for this one. Maybe scary arse psycho photo would be a more apt description.
I had lots and lots of things to say but I have to read stuff now for school because I am a Dedicated Student also I had a nap that was accidentally two hours longer than I intended and then spent the last hour reading blogs because they are Dangerous Things and should really come with a warning "Excessive consumption of these blogs may affect your GPA".
Blogger photos doesn't like this photo. I tried to upload it and there was a big grey mess with the photo in the corner and because I am mildly retarded I don't know how to fix it so here we are back with photobucket.
I have been doing weekend stuff this weekend. Things that normal people do on the weekends, albeit supplemented by much reading of Jagdish Bhagwati and some stuff on coups.
Friday: had dinner at my friend's house, with some other people, drank some wine, talked some shit.
Saturday: cooked for two of my friends, drank some wine, talked some shit, listened to my friends talk about stuff I don't understand. All good.
Sometimes I will be talking some shit about something and I'll mention my blog and occasionally the reaction is "You have a blog? Email me the link!" and sometimes I'm reluctant to which is weird (thats a difficult word to spell) because I think there are so many versions of me that perhaps my school friends don't need to know all the shit I spout about school and my life and how retarded I am and how much I miss my sisters and the munchkins and my mum and dad and all the people I love in NZ and all the shite that my brain manages to produce on a daily basis plus the emotional crises I seem to produce at regular intervals.
Holy crap its nearly ten o'clock!
Anyway I did that on Friday and my friend goes "email me the link" so after thinking about it I did and now we should all welcome Brendan to the fold, pull up a chair, have a cup of tea and enjoy the madness.
In the manner of all good guests, Brendan did not show up empty handed, and we can thank him and his cellphone camera for these charming photos of yours truly.
OK perhaps charming is the wrong word for this one. Maybe scary arse psycho photo would be a more apt description.
I had lots and lots of things to say but I have to read stuff now for school because I am a Dedicated Student also I had a nap that was accidentally two hours longer than I intended and then spent the last hour reading blogs because they are Dangerous Things and should really come with a warning "Excessive consumption of these blogs may affect your GPA".
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
A lesser man would have just said "Ah, fuck you"
This just in: the internets are dangerous.
It is currently 8.31 pm on Wednesday, that time of day also known as "29 minutes to Lost", and I have still not done my reading for tomorrow morning's class. Why, you may ask?
Well, its all this guy's fault.
That, and the fact that Comedy Central go and post videos of the show on their website that I am forced to watch because I don't have cable and all the news I do get on the occasionally functioning television is completely biased and crap and not funny and doesn't have Stephen Colbert or Jon Stewart and its not like I really watch it anyway cos its always about some really dumb parochial crap like the school district two counties up the road and not important things like how Tana Umanga is retiring or the gigantic fubar going on in Iraq because as I learnt in class today previous to the invasion neither the military nor the government policy makers did a single simulation about what might happen so are completely unprepared which explains the lack of body armour on soldiers and all the civilians that have been killed and I really shouldn't be going here because I don't know enough about it to win an argument and you should never talk about shit when you don't really know enough but Jon Stewart knows lots and therefore I would like to take this opportunity to invite Mr Stewart to be a guest blogger on Planet Claire.
I did that really long sentence thing again, didn't I?
Oops.
Gotta run, nearly Sawyer o'clock!
This just in: the internets are dangerous.
It is currently 8.31 pm on Wednesday, that time of day also known as "29 minutes to Lost", and I have still not done my reading for tomorrow morning's class. Why, you may ask?
Well, its all this guy's fault.
That, and the fact that Comedy Central go and post videos of the show on their website that I am forced to watch because I don't have cable and all the news I do get on the occasionally functioning television is completely biased and crap and not funny and doesn't have Stephen Colbert or Jon Stewart and its not like I really watch it anyway cos its always about some really dumb parochial crap like the school district two counties up the road and not important things like how Tana Umanga is retiring or the gigantic fubar going on in Iraq because as I learnt in class today previous to the invasion neither the military nor the government policy makers did a single simulation about what might happen so are completely unprepared which explains the lack of body armour on soldiers and all the civilians that have been killed and I really shouldn't be going here because I don't know enough about it to win an argument and you should never talk about shit when you don't really know enough but Jon Stewart knows lots and therefore I would like to take this opportunity to invite Mr Stewart to be a guest blogger on Planet Claire.
I did that really long sentence thing again, didn't I?
Oops.
Gotta run, nearly Sawyer o'clock!
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
Samuel Huntington: Wrong About A Lot Of Things
So, how was your day?
Mine's going smashingly. Lots of funny things.
Buses for example.
This morning I had a dentist appointment. Again. The last three times I've tried to get to the dentist, there has been a gigantic bus conspiracy, and each time I've had to get a taxi either all or part of the way. Expensive when one is trying to live on a graduate stipend and pay dental bills.
So, this morning I had all the buses planned out, because I have to change at the mall for a bus to the dentists, and I was waiting at the stop by my house approximately five minutes before the bus was due at the corner about 500m up the road. In plenty of time, in other words.
So, I waited. And waited. Then waited some more. Then I swore. And waited a bit more, before swearing again. By this time about 40 minutes had passed, so either the bus wasn't coming, or had gone past my stop insanely early. Bollocks to you, bus!!!
So, I get home, and call a taxi. Luckily the buses were about an hour and a half before my actual appointment, or I would have been late. Like last week, when I was half an hour late, because of the dumb buses. Anyway.
A taxi arrives, about 20mins before my appointment, and I tell him where to go, and say we need to stop by an ATM so I can pay him. Unfortunately taxi drivers in this town don't accept invisible magic beans as payment, so I required real cash. He started waffling something about Chase Manhattan bank, and I said listen mate, just drive down East Genesee St we will pass a big ol' bunch of ATMs. So, off we go. The dumb fuck driver proceeds to go past about ten ATMs that I can see, past the dentist, where I had made it very clear we were going, and off up the road to the freaking bank.
I said look you dumb fuck*, you have already passed ten ATMs and the dentist, and look theres an ATM there drive in. So he pulls up to the front door of the bank. I said no listen son, we need to go to the ATM. So he begins to drive out of the carpark. I said no you complete incompetent*, drive through right there, where that big sign says in big lit up letters "drive through ATM". So he drives through, and stops too far away from the machine and I have to get out in the freezing cold, having just regained the feeling in my toes after waiting for the non-existent bus.
So I get my money, get back in the car (which wasn't particularly clean either...) and say lovely then lets go back to the dentist. Which he nearly drives past. Again. Then he pulls up way too fast and skids on the ice, nearly taking out some nice car thats parked. By this time the meter says about $19, and I open my mouth to inform the driver that he has the brain capacity of a pubic hair and because the meter said $15 the first time we drove past the dentist thats all I'm paying him and if he thinks hes getting a tip hes more wrong than a wrong thing in wrongtown on international wrong day. The man must have said sorry 25 times. Loser.
However, he redeemed himself a little by telling me to pay only $15, and because I was struck by a fot of Not Being A Bitch, I said "Oh thank you very much" instead of "Damn straight i'm only paying you $15".
Then I got to the dentist and he gave me the wrong anesthetic and my heart went all boom boom really fast and I got really nauseous and my entire body was shaking and thought I was going to puke right there on the shiny dental clinic floor, even though I told him no anesthetic with any form of stimulant it makes me sick. He claimed he gave me the weak one, but I said what part of no stimulants AT ALL do you not understand? Lesson learned.
Then I got some fillings which was fun.
Then I waited for about 45 minutes in the freezing cold again for another bus, but when it arrived the driver was so nice I didn't yell at him for keeping me waiting. Cos I'm nice.
Then I had to wait at the mall for 50 minutes for a bus to get to school so I bought some really yummy chicken and corn soup from some crappy chain food place, and proceeded to eat it like a retard with it all dribbling down my face because half of it was numb (my face, not the soup). There are few things funnier than trying to get soup in your mouth while half your face is numb and while laughing at yourself because you look like a retard.
Then I got on a bus and came to school and had a nice cup of tea through a straw so I didn't dribble it and read some military stuff for my civil military relations class which is in one hour and my face is still a bit numb and its pretty funny but I'm a bit less of a retard than I was a couple of hours ago.
And tomorrow morning in my IR class we're doing a simulation and I'm the negotiator and financial officer for Wilson Petroleum and its really tempting to be a complete knob in class and keep asking "but what's my motivation".
The bad news is however that there will be no boobie shots because this morning waiting around for buses I froze my tits off.
*And when I say "I said" these things, it obviously means "I thought them really really loudly"
So, how was your day?
Mine's going smashingly. Lots of funny things.
Buses for example.
This morning I had a dentist appointment. Again. The last three times I've tried to get to the dentist, there has been a gigantic bus conspiracy, and each time I've had to get a taxi either all or part of the way. Expensive when one is trying to live on a graduate stipend and pay dental bills.
So, this morning I had all the buses planned out, because I have to change at the mall for a bus to the dentists, and I was waiting at the stop by my house approximately five minutes before the bus was due at the corner about 500m up the road. In plenty of time, in other words.
So, I waited. And waited. Then waited some more. Then I swore. And waited a bit more, before swearing again. By this time about 40 minutes had passed, so either the bus wasn't coming, or had gone past my stop insanely early. Bollocks to you, bus!!!
So, I get home, and call a taxi. Luckily the buses were about an hour and a half before my actual appointment, or I would have been late. Like last week, when I was half an hour late, because of the dumb buses. Anyway.
A taxi arrives, about 20mins before my appointment, and I tell him where to go, and say we need to stop by an ATM so I can pay him. Unfortunately taxi drivers in this town don't accept invisible magic beans as payment, so I required real cash. He started waffling something about Chase Manhattan bank, and I said listen mate, just drive down East Genesee St we will pass a big ol' bunch of ATMs. So, off we go. The dumb fuck driver proceeds to go past about ten ATMs that I can see, past the dentist, where I had made it very clear we were going, and off up the road to the freaking bank.
I said look you dumb fuck*, you have already passed ten ATMs and the dentist, and look theres an ATM there drive in. So he pulls up to the front door of the bank. I said no listen son, we need to go to the ATM. So he begins to drive out of the carpark. I said no you complete incompetent*, drive through right there, where that big sign says in big lit up letters "drive through ATM". So he drives through, and stops too far away from the machine and I have to get out in the freezing cold, having just regained the feeling in my toes after waiting for the non-existent bus.
So I get my money, get back in the car (which wasn't particularly clean either...) and say lovely then lets go back to the dentist. Which he nearly drives past. Again. Then he pulls up way too fast and skids on the ice, nearly taking out some nice car thats parked. By this time the meter says about $19, and I open my mouth to inform the driver that he has the brain capacity of a pubic hair and because the meter said $15 the first time we drove past the dentist thats all I'm paying him and if he thinks hes getting a tip hes more wrong than a wrong thing in wrongtown on international wrong day. The man must have said sorry 25 times. Loser.
However, he redeemed himself a little by telling me to pay only $15, and because I was struck by a fot of Not Being A Bitch, I said "Oh thank you very much" instead of "Damn straight i'm only paying you $15".
Then I got to the dentist and he gave me the wrong anesthetic and my heart went all boom boom really fast and I got really nauseous and my entire body was shaking and thought I was going to puke right there on the shiny dental clinic floor, even though I told him no anesthetic with any form of stimulant it makes me sick. He claimed he gave me the weak one, but I said what part of no stimulants AT ALL do you not understand? Lesson learned.
Then I got some fillings which was fun.
Then I waited for about 45 minutes in the freezing cold again for another bus, but when it arrived the driver was so nice I didn't yell at him for keeping me waiting. Cos I'm nice.
Then I had to wait at the mall for 50 minutes for a bus to get to school so I bought some really yummy chicken and corn soup from some crappy chain food place, and proceeded to eat it like a retard with it all dribbling down my face because half of it was numb (my face, not the soup). There are few things funnier than trying to get soup in your mouth while half your face is numb and while laughing at yourself because you look like a retard.
Then I got on a bus and came to school and had a nice cup of tea through a straw so I didn't dribble it and read some military stuff for my civil military relations class which is in one hour and my face is still a bit numb and its pretty funny but I'm a bit less of a retard than I was a couple of hours ago.
And tomorrow morning in my IR class we're doing a simulation and I'm the negotiator and financial officer for Wilson Petroleum and its really tempting to be a complete knob in class and keep asking "but what's my motivation".
The bad news is however that there will be no boobie shots because this morning waiting around for buses I froze my tits off.
*And when I say "I said" these things, it obviously means "I thought them really really loudly"
Monday, January 23, 2006
Sundays all of my demons rest, but today's not a Sunday
Well fuck.
The world is coming to an end, I'm sure of it.
A freaking whale swam up the Thames. Then died during a rescue effort. Poor wee mite, I'm very sad about that. They also found a porpoise in Putney. Even the animals know something's up.
The "president" of this country I live in claims that the right to legislate over a woman's body is rooted in America's deepest principles and that history will show them prevail.
My freckly white arse it will.
Canadians, who I thought were a resonably sensible bunch despite not having a cricket team, have gone and elected one of those crappy "let's limit the rights of everyone who's not a rich white guy and while we're at it shall we stick our noses up America's arse? ok what a smashing idea" governments.
Note of course my obvious mastery of the intricacies of all aspects of Canadian politics, and my completely fair and unbalanced, not to mention wildly informed, portrayal of the Tories.
The CIA decided that the rules don't really apply to them, and they can pretty much do whatever the fuck they want, cos they're the goddam CIA and they've got a constitutional right to be dodgy bastards, or something, and if you question them they'll get their friends in the black helicopters to come and steal you in the middle of the night and you'll find yourself in a concrete room with a sack over your head and your feet in a bucket of water can you say International Convention on Human Rights?
Peacekeepers in the DRC are getting killed
The West Wing has been cancelled
And.....the real nail in the coffin?
Chris Cairns is retiring from one day cricket.
End of a freaking era......
Also, what is up with you people? I write a crappy half arsed post and get a bunch of comments. I pour my freaking heart out, and what do I get? ONE!!!!
Do I have to start posting boobie shots?
Well fuck.
The world is coming to an end, I'm sure of it.
A freaking whale swam up the Thames. Then died during a rescue effort. Poor wee mite, I'm very sad about that. They also found a porpoise in Putney. Even the animals know something's up.
The "president" of this country I live in claims that the right to legislate over a woman's body is rooted in America's deepest principles and that history will show them prevail.
My freckly white arse it will.
Canadians, who I thought were a resonably sensible bunch despite not having a cricket team, have gone and elected one of those crappy "let's limit the rights of everyone who's not a rich white guy and while we're at it shall we stick our noses up America's arse? ok what a smashing idea" governments.
Note of course my obvious mastery of the intricacies of all aspects of Canadian politics, and my completely fair and unbalanced, not to mention wildly informed, portrayal of the Tories.
The CIA decided that the rules don't really apply to them, and they can pretty much do whatever the fuck they want, cos they're the goddam CIA and they've got a constitutional right to be dodgy bastards, or something, and if you question them they'll get their friends in the black helicopters to come and steal you in the middle of the night and you'll find yourself in a concrete room with a sack over your head and your feet in a bucket of water can you say International Convention on Human Rights?
Peacekeepers in the DRC are getting killed
The West Wing has been cancelled
And.....the real nail in the coffin?
Chris Cairns is retiring from one day cricket.
End of a freaking era......
Also, what is up with you people? I write a crappy half arsed post and get a bunch of comments. I pour my freaking heart out, and what do I get? ONE!!!!
Do I have to start posting boobie shots?
Sunday, January 22, 2006
Sometimes I feel like I can't even sing...
Sometimes I just get all silly you know. Then I think that I'm not being silly, I'm just tired and my defences are down and I just want to let out all the noise in my head and this is the perfect forum for this because people who know me in the real world know this isn't all of me its only a tiny part its not the part that picks at her skin when she knows it will make it scar and the part that sometimes thinks every freckle and mole is a death sentence and the part that doodles things that rhyme and that talks to herself sometimes just to practice how things sound.
I find quotes in the silliest movies that really get me sometimes. I have said sometimes four times already not counting that last one and not counting the title.
They are often the simplest things, and when I watch the silly movie they get stored away in my head and then all of a sudden when I'm doing something else completely unrelated they jump out at me like they've been hiding away behind recipes and colour recognition and French verbs and say Boo! hello we've just come to visit and we've bought our friends, and their friends are all the things that go with that particular simple little quote and then they get me thinking about all the stuff I don't normally think about because I'm a Strong Independent Woman and I refuse to be one of those women who always needs a man around to make her feel whole and complete because I believe that if you can't make yourself whole then you're fucked nobody can help you. You must find your own self and get to know and love it and then find someone who feels the same way and loves your soul despite its jagged glaring flaws and doesn't mind so much if you get really drunk and puke after a big night and still thinks you're sexy wearing trackpants and swearing because you're having the worst period cramps in the history of the universe.
There's this movie called Practical Magic and its not very good despite having Goran Visnjic in it, and Sandra Bullock and Nicole Kidman play sisters who are witches and they are talking about men and one says what would you do and the other one says what wouldn't I do, for the right man and initially I though that's just dumb get a backbone bitch, then I realised she's right, because no matter who you are finding a person you love and who loves you truly madly deeply is so rare that you should not let go easily. This is what I can't understand about these fucknuts who want to stop gay people getting married, we shouldn't be shaming people who have found love we should be celebrating them and having parades for them and throwing them parties and revelling in the reflected glow of their love because people who have found love with another soul who loves them back are so fucking lucky its not funny.
It seems so easy for some people, everywhere I turn here people way younger than me are married and in these happy relationships and I think is it really so easy? why is it so easy for you? I know I'm broken but I'm getting better and if the right one exists then I'll do everything in my power to make it work without sacrificing my own things for his because that's bullshit.
But then I could sit here and complain about all the things I don't have when I have things in my life that people would kill for I have my health I'm clever I'm a bit pretty I'm in a really good graduate school and I'm doing really well I've got a family I freaking adore and who love me to the moon and back I've got a best friend who is the bestest best friend ever and I've got nice straight teeth and very long legs and I'm very tall and have lots of material things and I come from the best country in the world and there are a lot of people who love me so what the fuck am I whining about? I'm not whining I'm just having a moment because sometimes I'm sick of waking up alone and being the single girl and having invitations addressed to me alone because the assumption is I'll come alone and hearing about all these people who have found love and I'm happy for them I really am but I want someone to be happy for me cos its my turn now come on I'm waiting.
If anyone tries to use the comments box to make some lame arse hit on me comment I will fucking ban you for life I am so serious it will leave a mark.
Sometimes I just get all silly you know. Then I think that I'm not being silly, I'm just tired and my defences are down and I just want to let out all the noise in my head and this is the perfect forum for this because people who know me in the real world know this isn't all of me its only a tiny part its not the part that picks at her skin when she knows it will make it scar and the part that sometimes thinks every freckle and mole is a death sentence and the part that doodles things that rhyme and that talks to herself sometimes just to practice how things sound.
I find quotes in the silliest movies that really get me sometimes. I have said sometimes four times already not counting that last one and not counting the title.
They are often the simplest things, and when I watch the silly movie they get stored away in my head and then all of a sudden when I'm doing something else completely unrelated they jump out at me like they've been hiding away behind recipes and colour recognition and French verbs and say Boo! hello we've just come to visit and we've bought our friends, and their friends are all the things that go with that particular simple little quote and then they get me thinking about all the stuff I don't normally think about because I'm a Strong Independent Woman and I refuse to be one of those women who always needs a man around to make her feel whole and complete because I believe that if you can't make yourself whole then you're fucked nobody can help you. You must find your own self and get to know and love it and then find someone who feels the same way and loves your soul despite its jagged glaring flaws and doesn't mind so much if you get really drunk and puke after a big night and still thinks you're sexy wearing trackpants and swearing because you're having the worst period cramps in the history of the universe.
There's this movie called Practical Magic and its not very good despite having Goran Visnjic in it, and Sandra Bullock and Nicole Kidman play sisters who are witches and they are talking about men and one says what would you do and the other one says what wouldn't I do, for the right man and initially I though that's just dumb get a backbone bitch, then I realised she's right, because no matter who you are finding a person you love and who loves you truly madly deeply is so rare that you should not let go easily. This is what I can't understand about these fucknuts who want to stop gay people getting married, we shouldn't be shaming people who have found love we should be celebrating them and having parades for them and throwing them parties and revelling in the reflected glow of their love because people who have found love with another soul who loves them back are so fucking lucky its not funny.
It seems so easy for some people, everywhere I turn here people way younger than me are married and in these happy relationships and I think is it really so easy? why is it so easy for you? I know I'm broken but I'm getting better and if the right one exists then I'll do everything in my power to make it work without sacrificing my own things for his because that's bullshit.
But then I could sit here and complain about all the things I don't have when I have things in my life that people would kill for I have my health I'm clever I'm a bit pretty I'm in a really good graduate school and I'm doing really well I've got a family I freaking adore and who love me to the moon and back I've got a best friend who is the bestest best friend ever and I've got nice straight teeth and very long legs and I'm very tall and have lots of material things and I come from the best country in the world and there are a lot of people who love me so what the fuck am I whining about? I'm not whining I'm just having a moment because sometimes I'm sick of waking up alone and being the single girl and having invitations addressed to me alone because the assumption is I'll come alone and hearing about all these people who have found love and I'm happy for them I really am but I want someone to be happy for me cos its my turn now come on I'm waiting.
If anyone tries to use the comments box to make some lame arse hit on me comment I will fucking ban you for life I am so serious it will leave a mark.
Friday, January 20, 2006
Two posts in one day. Who knew you had this kind of luck?I believe I have previously mentioned my cousin of awesomeness, young Stacey, and today she further proved her awesomeness by sending me this care package. Actually, she probably sent it about a week ago, but I got it today.
Not only does it have the new Bic Runga cd, which I am currently listening to (go Bic) but a calender of Craig Potton photos and a Listener (which is funny because when I was at Libby's over New Year we were reading the Listener and doing the crossword and generally singing its praises although not much with the singing just saying how cool a magazine it is) and not one but two Whittakers chocolate bars and a Pinky bar and a Perky Nana and a Cairns russian fudge which I've already eaten because how can you expect me to be in the same room as Russian fudge and not eat it perhaps this is connected to the hideous dental bills?....NAH!!! and some Jaffas which is funny because just
the other day I ate the last three Jaffas in North America and was sad and some Scully's soap cos I smell and a pretty red card because Stacey too appreciates the awesomeness of red things.So a big loud Yay For Stacey is currently resounding in this house.
Man, I look really wasted in this picture. I don't think I was, but you can never be sure.
Stacey of course looks gorgeous, sorry boys, she's taken.
What a lucky girl I am to have such a cool cousin. It just goes to show that there is a genetic basis for awesomeness.
However, despite the awesomeness in my genetic code, I must add that I'm currently questioning the wisdom of eating the entire piece of fudge in one sitting, as I am starting to feel a bit squiffy.
"Oh that's right Vyvyan. If the mountain won't come to Muhammad, smash the drawing room to pieces. That's very Buddhist, isn't it"
So it appears that I have had a crap week. I got an email from a friend this morning saying sorry
your week has sucked, and the impression from my blog is in fact that.
However, while it is true that there have been major aspects of suckiness in this week, it has been balanced by some awesomeness.
The reason I bring this up is because the last thing I want to become is that annoying little twat who thinks that their life is so much harder than everyone else's when the reality is that we are surrounded by so much that others will gladly give their right foot for. We don't think much of that person, do we precious? No.
So, things that help to balance out the whole having-to-bail-on-Chickstock and spend-hundreds-of-dollars-on-dental-bills thing include, but are not limited to....
- my friends are back in town, and that makes me happy.
- there is a ridiculously hot boy who thinks I'm hot and he is neither blind nor retarded.
- My classes have started and they all seem really cool, especially in comparison to last semester's quantitative methods hell. Incidentally, my IPE prof looks like Bill Pullman, were Bill Pullman to play a professor of political science. Cable knit
cardigan and all.
- My bedroom is cool.
- Its only 114 sleeps until I get home, taking into account having a sleep on the plane to get my body clock back to NZ time, but not taking into account any naps I may have between now and then.
- I have a Gryffindor scarf and yesterday I was wearing it in the bookshop and people were looking at me with jealousy in their bitter eyes.
- Arriving in the mail tomorrow is the much anticipated "Serenity", further upping my geek factor. As if Battlestar Galactica and tickets-two-months-in-advance-to-the-midnight-screening-of-Star-Wars weren't enough.
So it appears that I have had a crap week. I got an email from a friend this morning saying sorry
your week has sucked, and the impression from my blog is in fact that.However, while it is true that there have been major aspects of suckiness in this week, it has been balanced by some awesomeness.
The reason I bring this up is because the last thing I want to become is that annoying little twat who thinks that their life is so much harder than everyone else's when the reality is that we are surrounded by so much that others will gladly give their right foot for. We don't think much of that person, do we precious? No.
So, things that help to balance out the whole having-to-bail-on-Chickstock and spend-hundreds-of-dollars-on-dental-bills thing include, but are not limited to....
- my friends are back in town, and that makes me happy.
- there is a ridiculously hot boy who thinks I'm hot and he is neither blind nor retarded.
- My classes have started and they all seem really cool, especially in comparison to last semester's quantitative methods hell. Incidentally, my IPE prof looks like Bill Pullman, were Bill Pullman to play a professor of political science. Cable knit
cardigan and all.- My bedroom is cool.
- Its only 114 sleeps until I get home, taking into account having a sleep on the plane to get my body clock back to NZ time, but not taking into account any naps I may have between now and then.
- I have a Gryffindor scarf and yesterday I was wearing it in the bookshop and people were looking at me with jealousy in their bitter eyes.
- Arriving in the mail tomorrow is the much anticipated "Serenity", further upping my geek factor. As if Battlestar Galactica and tickets-two-months-in-advance-to-the-midnight-screening-of-Star-Wars weren't enough.
Thursday, January 19, 2006
I got a lust for life...
As we speak, earthlings, the grand old Big Day Out is playing in NZ. Ericsson Stadium in Auckland is host to New Zealand acts Blindspott, Shihad, Che Fu & the Krates, Gramsci, my beloved Fat Freddy's Drop, the Brunettes, Shapeshifter and Flying Nun legends The Bats.
And, as if that wasn't already a recipe for an awesome day, these bands are joined by Franz Ferdinand, The White Stripes, Henry Rollins, The Mars Volta, The Living End, Kings of Leon, and MOTHERFUCKING IGGY AND THE FUCKING STOOGES!!!!!!
Yes, freaking Iggy and the freaking Stooges are playing in my country today. How cool would it be to be in the front row when they played "Search and Destroy".
And what am I doing today?
Ummmm, I forget.
Not at the Big Day Out.
Poos.
As we speak, earthlings, the grand old Big Day Out is playing in NZ. Ericsson Stadium in Auckland is host to New Zealand acts Blindspott, Shihad, Che Fu & the Krates, Gramsci, my beloved Fat Freddy's Drop, the Brunettes, Shapeshifter and Flying Nun legends The Bats.
And, as if that wasn't already a recipe for an awesome day, these bands are joined by Franz Ferdinand, The White Stripes, Henry Rollins, The Mars Volta, The Living End, Kings of Leon, and MOTHERFUCKING IGGY AND THE FUCKING STOOGES!!!!!!
Yes, freaking Iggy and the freaking Stooges are playing in my country today. How cool would it be to be in the front row when they played "Search and Destroy".
And what am I doing today?
Ummmm, I forget.
Not at the Big Day Out.
Poos.
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
Fuckity Fuck Arse Shit Bollocks Titwank Knobrash Fucksticks Fuckity Cunting Twatface Fucko McFuck
I'm compiling a list of things that suck, but actually its really only one thing that sucks, it just sucks enough for a whole lists worth of suckiness.
I have had to bail on this whole Mardi Gras thing. And the real suckiness lies in the fact that almost everyone else has had to bail on the thing, whereas if I had been the only one it would have been less of a problem.
I would love to say that I can't go to New Orleans because I am being whisked away to Fiji by a hot boy, or I have a secret covert government operation to perform in some former Soviet state, but the reality is that I simply cannot afford it.
The reason why I cannot afford it?
THE FREAKING DENTIST!!!!!
Yes, my teeth are preventing me from the Mardi Gras experience. More to the point, the amount of money I have to pay to the dentist to put fillings in said teeth, thus preventing them from falling out and/or deteriorating to the point of costing (almost literally) four times what this wee venture will cost.
So, that sucks. Arse. Big time.
And its completely out of my control, there is no way I can ignore the dental bill, the dentist said that if I was to postpone this work until after March it would cost way more, even though I said there was no need to be dramatic and that I would get it done and he would get his money no matter what so he could give me a reasonably objective answer, and all the money I got for Xmas will go on boring dental bills not on fun stuff.
And for that, I am well pissed off.
Also, I just went to donate blood, and apparently the American Red Cross think that my fine South Pacific blood is not good enough for them, and they didn't want it.
Well yah boo sucks to you then, American Red Cross.
Still, I got a free piece of pizza out of it, even though it took nearly an hour of waiting and Spanish Inquisition-type questioning about what blood transfusions the person I used to flat with in 1996 had when they were seven and skinned their knee playing touch rugby.
I think I need a hug. Or a nap.
Maybe a hap? or a nug?
I'm compiling a list of things that suck, but actually its really only one thing that sucks, it just sucks enough for a whole lists worth of suckiness.
I have had to bail on this whole Mardi Gras thing. And the real suckiness lies in the fact that almost everyone else has had to bail on the thing, whereas if I had been the only one it would have been less of a problem.
I would love to say that I can't go to New Orleans because I am being whisked away to Fiji by a hot boy, or I have a secret covert government operation to perform in some former Soviet state, but the reality is that I simply cannot afford it.
The reason why I cannot afford it?
THE FREAKING DENTIST!!!!!
Yes, my teeth are preventing me from the Mardi Gras experience. More to the point, the amount of money I have to pay to the dentist to put fillings in said teeth, thus preventing them from falling out and/or deteriorating to the point of costing (almost literally) four times what this wee venture will cost.
So, that sucks. Arse. Big time.
And its completely out of my control, there is no way I can ignore the dental bill, the dentist said that if I was to postpone this work until after March it would cost way more, even though I said there was no need to be dramatic and that I would get it done and he would get his money no matter what so he could give me a reasonably objective answer, and all the money I got for Xmas will go on boring dental bills not on fun stuff.
And for that, I am well pissed off.
Also, I just went to donate blood, and apparently the American Red Cross think that my fine South Pacific blood is not good enough for them, and they didn't want it.
Well yah boo sucks to you then, American Red Cross.
Still, I got a free piece of pizza out of it, even though it took nearly an hour of waiting and Spanish Inquisition-type questioning about what blood transfusions the person I used to flat with in 1996 had when they were seven and skinned their knee playing touch rugby.
I think I need a hug. Or a nap.
Maybe a hap? or a nug?
Monday, January 16, 2006
Why are you trying so hard to fit in when you were born to stand out?Modelling the latest in winter-wear from the Wellington branch of Hogwarts School of witchcraft, wizardry and fashion (Gryffindor division), here we have yours truly in the coolest scarf ever in the history of cool scarves that Hesty has ever knitted ever. This present ranks well high on my list of awesome presents. And this is a list that includes a car, a really flash digital camera, a thumping stereo and Doc Martens boots.
My friends are back in town, YAY!!! I am Nigel NoFriends no longer. Last night Holly and Rebecca came over and we watched the entire first series of Black Books and they loved it and we managed to dispose of an entire bottle of wine and not a 750ml bottle either, it was a big 'un, over a litre I think. Go team. And tonight Kait's coming over for dinner and Golden Globes watching. Booya.
Now as it turns out, and in part I guess because I'm not Jacques de Molay in 1307, Friday the 13th turned out to be a remarkably lucky day. Oh yes. There was goodness abounding on Friday the 13th, none of this superstition nonsense. I would go so far as to say Friday the 13th was one of the best days I've had in a long time. It turns out that there are some things that are worth getting out of bed at 4am after 45 minutes sleep for after all.
And just in case that wasn't cryptic enough for you, here are some pictures of vegetables that have absolutely nothing to d
o with anything.
Although technically capsicums are not a vegetable, they're a fruit, because they have seeds. And lemons are most definately a fruit. As are oranges.OK, so let's just say fruit and vegetables and leave it at that, ok?
Geez!!!
Saturday, January 14, 2006
My GPA is 3.778. Suck it down.
I went to NYC.
After a grand total of 45mins sleep I got on a bus, went to The Big City and rode the subway and bought some pashminas and went to an exhibition of real human bodies and ate some food and went to an art gallery that had lots of pretty pictures and some straight out weird shit in it and played scrabble and drank whiskey and ate some spinach and ricotta ravioli and went to sleep and then got up and went to the airport to meet Marie-Lou and was really late because one train was late and another decided halfway through the route it had enough and told us all to get off and get another train which didn't show up for ages so I got a yellow taxi and was an hour late but was not as late as British Airways who lost two of Marie-Lou's cases then we got a rental car and drove upstate through fog and rain and snow sometimes all three at once and it was scary and took ages but we made it and now I'm going to get into my bed and watch Black Books having eaten a big plate of yummy pasta and being so tired that I was seeing things on the road today that weren't actually there so goodnight one and goodnight all.
I went to NYC.
After a grand total of 45mins sleep I got on a bus, went to The Big City and rode the subway and bought some pashminas and went to an exhibition of real human bodies and ate some food and went to an art gallery that had lots of pretty pictures and some straight out weird shit in it and played scrabble and drank whiskey and ate some spinach and ricotta ravioli and went to sleep and then got up and went to the airport to meet Marie-Lou and was really late because one train was late and another decided halfway through the route it had enough and told us all to get off and get another train which didn't show up for ages so I got a yellow taxi and was an hour late but was not as late as British Airways who lost two of Marie-Lou's cases then we got a rental car and drove upstate through fog and rain and snow sometimes all three at once and it was scary and took ages but we made it and now I'm going to get into my bed and watch Black Books having eaten a big plate of yummy pasta and being so tired that I was seeing things on the road today that weren't actually there so goodnight one and goodnight all.
Thursday, January 12, 2006
"Go and boil your bottoms, son of a silly person. I blow my nose on you, so called Arthur-king, you and your silly English kiniggits"
The real question is, do I actually have anything to say?
Umm....magic eight-ball says not bleedin' likely!!!
However, seeing as how that has never stopped me before, I shall continue as normal.
My best friend's gf looks like Starbuck.
Its a shame Marilyn Manson is such a knobrash because he's got some thumping tunes.
I have to take industrial strength antibiotics every six hours for my fubar-ed root canal-ed tooth.
Today I did my washing.
The other day my "Shit bitch you is fine" bear had a wee accident involving a cup of tea, a shelf, the bear's right ear and gravity.
The person who bought me that bear is called Benjamin and is hereby declared awesome.
The bear has recovered nicely from the tea incident and thanks you for the good wishes you sent.
Its only a little over four months until I can go home and see my nieces and my nephew and my sisters and my brother-in-law and my mum and dad and my friends but my favourite cousin won't be there because she's going back to London to continue being awesome.
I've now lived in America for as long as I lived in Greece.
In certain situations making a cd for someone is a significant undertaking.
I'm thinking that perhaps I should get translations of Rammstein lyrics because its always good when one knows what one is actually saying. Thanks to Nike's efforts one night at work I pretty much know what Du Hast is about, but as for the rest....I know that engel means angel, but thats it. Could someone please ship Nike over to me? That would be great. Thanks.
I've got my own particular brand of the non-stoner munchies.
Bill and Ted quotes are still funny.
I'm doing a piss-poor job of readjusting my body clock to normal semester time which it must function on from next week, as it is quarter to two in the morning and I'm not tucked up in my sad lonely bed with only a toy tiger called Raji for company I'm sitting here spouting crap on my blog and boring the knickers off the poor unfortunate souls who stumble across this page hoping to find some existential wisdom. Well ya boo sucks to you, I used up all my wisdom last week doing the crossword!
How is it that CSI and CSI New York can be good yet CSI Miami is complete arse? Is it because of that annoying little ginge?
Why does Fox (bastards) tease us so by playing the first new episode of House in literally weeks, then follow it up with an advertisement saying that all new episodes of House will return in February? And why do I care so much?
OK, thats enough torture for one day. I will however leave you with this. The other day I updated my family-friendly blog, the one that my mum and dad read, and emailed them to let them know. Then I turned off my pooter and went to bed, only to lie awake for ages utterly convinced that I had in fact emailed them the url for this blog. Of course, I hadn't, and right now I can almost hear Tim's voice saying, as he usually does whenever I tell a story, "That's a really great story Claire" except written in sarcastic font.
The real question is, do I actually have anything to say?
Umm....magic eight-ball says not bleedin' likely!!!
However, seeing as how that has never stopped me before, I shall continue as normal.
My best friend's gf looks like Starbuck.
Its a shame Marilyn Manson is such a knobrash because he's got some thumping tunes.
I have to take industrial strength antibiotics every six hours for my fubar-ed root canal-ed tooth.
Today I did my washing.
The other day my "Shit bitch you is fine" bear had a wee accident involving a cup of tea, a shelf, the bear's right ear and gravity.
The person who bought me that bear is called Benjamin and is hereby declared awesome.
The bear has recovered nicely from the tea incident and thanks you for the good wishes you sent.
Its only a little over four months until I can go home and see my nieces and my nephew and my sisters and my brother-in-law and my mum and dad and my friends but my favourite cousin won't be there because she's going back to London to continue being awesome.
I've now lived in America for as long as I lived in Greece.
In certain situations making a cd for someone is a significant undertaking.
I'm thinking that perhaps I should get translations of Rammstein lyrics because its always good when one knows what one is actually saying. Thanks to Nike's efforts one night at work I pretty much know what Du Hast is about, but as for the rest....I know that engel means angel, but thats it. Could someone please ship Nike over to me? That would be great. Thanks.
I've got my own particular brand of the non-stoner munchies.
Bill and Ted quotes are still funny.
I'm doing a piss-poor job of readjusting my body clock to normal semester time which it must function on from next week, as it is quarter to two in the morning and I'm not tucked up in my sad lonely bed with only a toy tiger called Raji for company I'm sitting here spouting crap on my blog and boring the knickers off the poor unfortunate souls who stumble across this page hoping to find some existential wisdom. Well ya boo sucks to you, I used up all my wisdom last week doing the crossword!
How is it that CSI and CSI New York can be good yet CSI Miami is complete arse? Is it because of that annoying little ginge?
Why does Fox (bastards) tease us so by playing the first new episode of House in literally weeks, then follow it up with an advertisement saying that all new episodes of House will return in February? And why do I care so much?
OK, thats enough torture for one day. I will however leave you with this. The other day I updated my family-friendly blog, the one that my mum and dad read, and emailed them to let them know. Then I turned off my pooter and went to bed, only to lie awake for ages utterly convinced that I had in fact emailed them the url for this blog. Of course, I hadn't, and right now I can almost hear Tim's voice saying, as he usually does whenever I tell a story, "That's a really great story Claire" except written in sarcastic font.
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
"You're so wise. You're like a miniature Buddha, covered in hair"
So, it turns out that roasted salted peanuts do in fact have a use-by date. Additionally, when said peanuts are consumed a full twelve-month after that use-by date, they are no longer crunchy little morsels of salty joy, they have hideously morphed into nasty little kernels of arse.
In other news....
On Friday I am going to see this exhibition.
I have six days of sloth left before the madness begins, and in that time I have to write a paper. So, if I spend half my day working and half slothing then I really only have three days of sloth left, they will just be spread out over six days. But in reality I will spend maybe 2 or 3 hours a day working and the rest of the time watching Battlestar Galactica or sleeping or eating, which doesn't really comprise half a day.
I have to get my root canal done again. Ouch. It wasn't done properly last time, despite the fact it cost me $550 and a world of pain, and now I have two options. Either wait until I get home in May and get the original dentist to do it again, and not pay him because its probably his fault, or get it done here and pay $1025. Hmm. What a dilemma. So I am currently getting stuck into the penicillin in the hope that the infection currently lurking deep in my tooth goes away until May. Then, I can get some more pain inflicted upon me.
Its a good thing I'm tough.
Did you know that penicillin was discovered by a Scot? Dr Fleming was a Scotsman, as was Mr Bell, inventor of the telephone (although we was an Edinburgh lad). And of course, there is Scotch whiskey too.
So, three of the most important things in the world my people are responsible for. Quality booze, telephones and not being dead.
My Scottish blood fair tingles with pride.
So, it turns out that roasted salted peanuts do in fact have a use-by date. Additionally, when said peanuts are consumed a full twelve-month after that use-by date, they are no longer crunchy little morsels of salty joy, they have hideously morphed into nasty little kernels of arse.
In other news....
On Friday I am going to see this exhibition.
I have six days of sloth left before the madness begins, and in that time I have to write a paper. So, if I spend half my day working and half slothing then I really only have three days of sloth left, they will just be spread out over six days. But in reality I will spend maybe 2 or 3 hours a day working and the rest of the time watching Battlestar Galactica or sleeping or eating, which doesn't really comprise half a day.
I have to get my root canal done again. Ouch. It wasn't done properly last time, despite the fact it cost me $550 and a world of pain, and now I have two options. Either wait until I get home in May and get the original dentist to do it again, and not pay him because its probably his fault, or get it done here and pay $1025. Hmm. What a dilemma. So I am currently getting stuck into the penicillin in the hope that the infection currently lurking deep in my tooth goes away until May. Then, I can get some more pain inflicted upon me.
Its a good thing I'm tough.
Did you know that penicillin was discovered by a Scot? Dr Fleming was a Scotsman, as was Mr Bell, inventor of the telephone (although we was an Edinburgh lad). And of course, there is Scotch whiskey too.
So, three of the most important things in the world my people are responsible for. Quality booze, telephones and not being dead.
My Scottish blood fair tingles with pride.
Monday, January 09, 2006
"I've been listening to my gut since I was fourteen years old and frankly speaking, I've come to the conclusion that my guts have shit for brains"
Given the ridiculous amount of spare time I have had on my hands in the last few weeks, you would think I would have acheived something. But, no.
I've done a few sit ups, but not nearly enough (still have a fat tummy. Booya.)
I've thought about this paper I have to write, but haven't written it yet.
I bought some writing paper, but haven't written any letters yet.
I've thought about the papers I've enrolled for this coming semester, but I haven't done any reading for them yet.
Today, however, all that non-acheivement was forced to take a back seat, because in a fit of God-only-knows, I took it upon myself to clean my room. Not just put the dirty clothes in the washing basket and the clean clothes in the wardrobe either. I cleaned that mofo like nobody's business. I got the huge pile of papers on the bookshelf and sorted through it. I picked up the fourty thousand books that were decorating the floor and put them on the bookshelf. I sorted through all last semester's readings and notes and put them in a box. And labelled it. I put my cds in one pile and Holly's in another (see, she's away, and I've kind of been bringing some of her stuff to my house, and keeping it company...hi Holly.) I put all the pencils into a pencil jar, and all my desk stuff into a box on my desk, and put away my Xmas cards, and made a folder of important documents, and found the case for my camera, and then I changed my bed and now I'm going to jump in it because clean sheet day is the best day of the week. Especially when it coincides with clean jammies day, and having just got out of the shower.
I will however, leave you with this. I am considering making a compilation cd for someone, and it is doing my head in, because I want it to be really good. It needs some Fat Freddy's Drop, obviously, but should I put Flashback or Cay's Crays? Salmonella Dub as well, but the Bromley East Roller, or Love Your Ways? Obviously it must have The Chills' Heavenly Pop Hit, and Straitjacket Fits', but I can't decide whether to put Down in Splendour or If I Were You? I have the first Goldenhorse record, but the best version of Wake Up Brother is the single one, which isn't on the record. Also, should I make the cd all New Zealand music? If so, should it be all varieties of NZ music? If so, the order of songs will be a big thing, because you can't exactly jump from a hyper Concorde Dawn track to the mellowness of Phoenix Foundation to P-Money. It would be all wrong.
Oh, this is going to keep me awake all night.
Oh to have other things to keep me awake all night....
Given the ridiculous amount of spare time I have had on my hands in the last few weeks, you would think I would have acheived something. But, no.
I've done a few sit ups, but not nearly enough (still have a fat tummy. Booya.)
I've thought about this paper I have to write, but haven't written it yet.
I bought some writing paper, but haven't written any letters yet.
I've thought about the papers I've enrolled for this coming semester, but I haven't done any reading for them yet.
Today, however, all that non-acheivement was forced to take a back seat, because in a fit of God-only-knows, I took it upon myself to clean my room. Not just put the dirty clothes in the washing basket and the clean clothes in the wardrobe either. I cleaned that mofo like nobody's business. I got the huge pile of papers on the bookshelf and sorted through it. I picked up the fourty thousand books that were decorating the floor and put them on the bookshelf. I sorted through all last semester's readings and notes and put them in a box. And labelled it. I put my cds in one pile and Holly's in another (see, she's away, and I've kind of been bringing some of her stuff to my house, and keeping it company...hi Holly.) I put all the pencils into a pencil jar, and all my desk stuff into a box on my desk, and put away my Xmas cards, and made a folder of important documents, and found the case for my camera, and then I changed my bed and now I'm going to jump in it because clean sheet day is the best day of the week. Especially when it coincides with clean jammies day, and having just got out of the shower.
I will however, leave you with this. I am considering making a compilation cd for someone, and it is doing my head in, because I want it to be really good. It needs some Fat Freddy's Drop, obviously, but should I put Flashback or Cay's Crays? Salmonella Dub as well, but the Bromley East Roller, or Love Your Ways? Obviously it must have The Chills' Heavenly Pop Hit, and Straitjacket Fits', but I can't decide whether to put Down in Splendour or If I Were You? I have the first Goldenhorse record, but the best version of Wake Up Brother is the single one, which isn't on the record. Also, should I make the cd all New Zealand music? If so, should it be all varieties of NZ music? If so, the order of songs will be a big thing, because you can't exactly jump from a hyper Concorde Dawn track to the mellowness of Phoenix Foundation to P-Money. It would be all wrong.
Oh, this is going to keep me awake all night.
Oh to have other things to keep me awake all night....
Saturday, January 07, 2006
Warning: extreme geekage ahead!!!Today, thanks to the wonders of Netflix (no, I really can't shut about them, can I?), I received the first disc of season one of Battlestar Galactica, and will be spending the evening revelling in geek-ness watching the ENTIRE FREAKING THING!!!
Oh yeah, you heard.
GEEK-A-THON!!!!
Thing is, I can probably name four people who are jealous of me right now!!!
Like attracting like and all that....
But anyway, have a fun Saturday night won't you?
Love from Geeky McGeekster of Geeksville.
Don't talk to me about being alone
I wonder if now is the best time to be blogging. Its 2.34am, and I really should go to bed, and I had no intention of blogging, but sometimes it just happens. You know... Or not.
I have these moments where I come up with these magnificent thoughts that would be awesome for my blog, but its always when I'm walking down the road without anything to write on, and so I repeat them to myself so I can remember, but then I get distracted by something pretty like snow or puppies and poof its gone.
Today I was having this wonderful thought about me and where I am in my life and what its time for and it was so eloquent when I thought of it first but now I'm running through it in my head and it sounds clumsy and childish and just plain pedestrian so I'm going to leave it alone for another time unless of course I feel the need to just vent it in which case I can come back tomorrow and delete it all. Oh the joys of being in charge.
Party time at my house tonight. I cut my hair, and then dyed it, and then put streaks in it. The colour and streaks are cool, but as usual I think I might have cut a bit too much off. About 10cm, 2 & 1/2 inches. Then I washed it and it went all boofy and way curly and now I look a bit eighties but then I put a hairclip in and I'm back to my styling self again. Hehehe, who am I kidding. I am a gigantic boofhead, but at least I have a hair straightener.
Trinny and Susannah were on Oprah today. I love those two and want them to come to my house and sort out my wardrobe which is one massive malfunction, and then buy me loads of pretty clothes so I will always look as awesome as I do on those very rare three times a year occasions when I actually put some effort in and wear nice clothes and do my gigantic boofy hair and put some lippy on.
That would be nice.
Deftones = awesome.
I wonder if now is the best time to be blogging. Its 2.34am, and I really should go to bed, and I had no intention of blogging, but sometimes it just happens. You know... Or not.
I have these moments where I come up with these magnificent thoughts that would be awesome for my blog, but its always when I'm walking down the road without anything to write on, and so I repeat them to myself so I can remember, but then I get distracted by something pretty like snow or puppies and poof its gone.
Today I was having this wonderful thought about me and where I am in my life and what its time for and it was so eloquent when I thought of it first but now I'm running through it in my head and it sounds clumsy and childish and just plain pedestrian so I'm going to leave it alone for another time unless of course I feel the need to just vent it in which case I can come back tomorrow and delete it all. Oh the joys of being in charge.
Party time at my house tonight. I cut my hair, and then dyed it, and then put streaks in it. The colour and streaks are cool, but as usual I think I might have cut a bit too much off. About 10cm, 2 & 1/2 inches. Then I washed it and it went all boofy and way curly and now I look a bit eighties but then I put a hairclip in and I'm back to my styling self again. Hehehe, who am I kidding. I am a gigantic boofhead, but at least I have a hair straightener.
Trinny and Susannah were on Oprah today. I love those two and want them to come to my house and sort out my wardrobe which is one massive malfunction, and then buy me loads of pretty clothes so I will always look as awesome as I do on those very rare three times a year occasions when I actually put some effort in and wear nice clothes and do my gigantic boofy hair and put some lippy on.
That would be nice.
Deftones = awesome.
Thursday, January 05, 2006
I am listening to Duran Duran, and loving it. What you gonna do about it?
I am constantly amazed at the level of sloth my life has recently descended to. I sleep until about 2pm and then lie around in bed for a while contemplating the cracks in the ceiling and listening to National Public Radio (oh NPR, how I love thee!!), then I'll have a cup of tea and read blogs, and occasionally have a shower and get dressed and go to the shop for some milk or crisps, or go to Holly's and water her plants, or go to the post office, or something REALLY FREAKING EXCITING and then watch a movie or have a nap, and then cook some food, and watch some telly and do some sewing and maybe some washing, and watch another movie, or maybe some fine BBC comedy care of the good people at netflix, and sometimes talk online with some people, and then read and go to sleep about 3am. Its fascinating.
I think I'm a sloth camel, you see. I'm cramming in all this laziness for the next two weeks, because once the semester starts I won't have time for any sloth at all, so I can gradually chip away at my store of sloth until May. Then when the semester finishes, I can refill the then-emptied sloth store.
I was commenting on another blog earlier about noisy eaters, about things that drive people insane. I like to think I'm a fairly tolerant person (hahaha) but there are a few things that drive me absolutely potty, and one of them is noisy eating. I cannot stand it. I am the table manners nazi, and I believe you can tell an awful lot about a person simply by sharing a meal with them at a reasonably nice restaurant. It has to be a bit decent, because anybody will shine in comparison to the people I've seen at some chain restaurants.
Because I am an expert on all aspects of human nature (actually I'm an expert on everything, but thats for another time) I believe that certain traits are indicative of underlying features of a person's psychological makeup. Kind of like factor analysis. (hello Sveta!!)
Say you turn up to the restaurant, and you have to wait for ten minutes for the table. Probably not anyone's fault. Don't take it out on the waitperson, because its not their fault that the people on the table before you are pissing about and taking too long. Maybe they're taking too long because they got stuck in traffic on the way, or their babysitter was late, or the people before them were late, or the chef made a mistake with their order. If someone was to go nuts at the maitre'd because they had to wait a few minutes for their table obviously has unresolved anger issues they are incapable of dealing with and therefore project them onto the poor freaking maitre'd who probably doesn't get paid nearly enough to deal with this shit.
One can also tell a lot about a person by how they treat their waitperson. If they are rude and dismissive they obviously have some insecurities about their own position in the grand scheme of things, and feel the need to put down people who they believe to be their social inferiors. There are of course waitpeople in this world (especially in this country) who are keen to introduce themselves to you, ask you about your day and who evidently want to be your friend. This is not right. Obviously if the customer wanted to spend the evening chatting with their waitperson then they would have asked them out for dinner, but seeing as how they didn't, leave them the fuck alone to talk to the person they are dining with. There are of course occasions where the table is composed of middle-aged business men who like to flirt with pretty waitresses, ask them their names and want to buy them a drink. This is all well and good, as long as the customers are long gone by the time the waitress concerned has finished work, don't try and slip roofies into the waitresses drink, and they leave a big fuck off tip. Ahhh, those were the days!!
I'm kind of rambling here, deal with it.
Then it comes to meal time. I like to think I was raised with good manners. In fact, I know that manners were drummed into my little brain from a very early age.
There are a few hard and fast rules that I thought everyone knew, but evidently not.
These rules include: one does not begin eating until all people at the table have been served. One does not have one's elbows on the table when there is also food on the table. Drinks only, thats ok. One does not EVER hold one's cutlery in a fist, unless one is a caveman. One waits until all food has been swallowed until one speaks, and one does not EVER EVER EVER NEVER EVER eat with one's mouth open. I don't care about cultural sensitivities or how hot the food is or any bullshit excuse like that. Your mouth can be blistering inside and still your lips will remain sealed.
Some believe that civility and manners perpetuate falsity. I say so what. Manners are what make it possible for us to all get along and live with each other, because sometimes interaction with people we cannot stand is necessary. Manners make it possible to interact with people , especially people we don't know, because it gives us a common language, and demonstrates a certain commitment to dealing with one's fellow human.
Also, and perhaps because I am a dreadful snob and the grandchild of the British Raj, table manners are to me the most important type of manners.
Coming together to eat is an experience on many levels I think. Its earthy, because food is such an essential part of our existence and generally comes from the earth. Its sensual, because as I have blogged before, food and wine are an experience for the senses beyond simple taste. Its social, because you use the time to interact on many levels with your fellow diners: you talk, you listen, you see how they enjoy their food, you see how they react to you and you enjoying yours, and its a lot more intimate than we initially realise. There are so many things we are doing while eating a meal, and I think we realise maybe half of them.
Right, so where was I going with this. I've just had my first glass of wine since NYE and its gone straight to my head. What a cheap date.
Here's where I was going. Or not. Fuck, way to be REALLY self referential. Can you say Dave Eggers?
I am a manners snob, but I don't want anybody reading this to think that it is directed at them because we may be dining together in the future, or have dined together in the past. This is the problem with knowing and meeting bloggers.
I have another whole blog festering away in my head right now, perhaps I'll write it and post it later. Again, another problem with knowing and meeting bloggers, one is torn between writing what one wants to say and knowing that someone will read it, and wanting to use the blog as a means to say what is not appropriate to say to their face.
Ok, perhaps I'll turn up Duran Duran and dance around my room for a while. That should sort things out a bit.
I am constantly amazed at the level of sloth my life has recently descended to. I sleep until about 2pm and then lie around in bed for a while contemplating the cracks in the ceiling and listening to National Public Radio (oh NPR, how I love thee!!), then I'll have a cup of tea and read blogs, and occasionally have a shower and get dressed and go to the shop for some milk or crisps, or go to Holly's and water her plants, or go to the post office, or something REALLY FREAKING EXCITING and then watch a movie or have a nap, and then cook some food, and watch some telly and do some sewing and maybe some washing, and watch another movie, or maybe some fine BBC comedy care of the good people at netflix, and sometimes talk online with some people, and then read and go to sleep about 3am. Its fascinating.
I think I'm a sloth camel, you see. I'm cramming in all this laziness for the next two weeks, because once the semester starts I won't have time for any sloth at all, so I can gradually chip away at my store of sloth until May. Then when the semester finishes, I can refill the then-emptied sloth store.
I was commenting on another blog earlier about noisy eaters, about things that drive people insane. I like to think I'm a fairly tolerant person (hahaha) but there are a few things that drive me absolutely potty, and one of them is noisy eating. I cannot stand it. I am the table manners nazi, and I believe you can tell an awful lot about a person simply by sharing a meal with them at a reasonably nice restaurant. It has to be a bit decent, because anybody will shine in comparison to the people I've seen at some chain restaurants.
Because I am an expert on all aspects of human nature (actually I'm an expert on everything, but thats for another time) I believe that certain traits are indicative of underlying features of a person's psychological makeup. Kind of like factor analysis. (hello Sveta!!)
Say you turn up to the restaurant, and you have to wait for ten minutes for the table. Probably not anyone's fault. Don't take it out on the waitperson, because its not their fault that the people on the table before you are pissing about and taking too long. Maybe they're taking too long because they got stuck in traffic on the way, or their babysitter was late, or the people before them were late, or the chef made a mistake with their order. If someone was to go nuts at the maitre'd because they had to wait a few minutes for their table obviously has unresolved anger issues they are incapable of dealing with and therefore project them onto the poor freaking maitre'd who probably doesn't get paid nearly enough to deal with this shit.
One can also tell a lot about a person by how they treat their waitperson. If they are rude and dismissive they obviously have some insecurities about their own position in the grand scheme of things, and feel the need to put down people who they believe to be their social inferiors. There are of course waitpeople in this world (especially in this country) who are keen to introduce themselves to you, ask you about your day and who evidently want to be your friend. This is not right. Obviously if the customer wanted to spend the evening chatting with their waitperson then they would have asked them out for dinner, but seeing as how they didn't, leave them the fuck alone to talk to the person they are dining with. There are of course occasions where the table is composed of middle-aged business men who like to flirt with pretty waitresses, ask them their names and want to buy them a drink. This is all well and good, as long as the customers are long gone by the time the waitress concerned has finished work, don't try and slip roofies into the waitresses drink, and they leave a big fuck off tip. Ahhh, those were the days!!
I'm kind of rambling here, deal with it.
Then it comes to meal time. I like to think I was raised with good manners. In fact, I know that manners were drummed into my little brain from a very early age.
There are a few hard and fast rules that I thought everyone knew, but evidently not.
These rules include: one does not begin eating until all people at the table have been served. One does not have one's elbows on the table when there is also food on the table. Drinks only, thats ok. One does not EVER hold one's cutlery in a fist, unless one is a caveman. One waits until all food has been swallowed until one speaks, and one does not EVER EVER EVER NEVER EVER eat with one's mouth open. I don't care about cultural sensitivities or how hot the food is or any bullshit excuse like that. Your mouth can be blistering inside and still your lips will remain sealed.
Some believe that civility and manners perpetuate falsity. I say so what. Manners are what make it possible for us to all get along and live with each other, because sometimes interaction with people we cannot stand is necessary. Manners make it possible to interact with people , especially people we don't know, because it gives us a common language, and demonstrates a certain commitment to dealing with one's fellow human.
Also, and perhaps because I am a dreadful snob and the grandchild of the British Raj, table manners are to me the most important type of manners.
Coming together to eat is an experience on many levels I think. Its earthy, because food is such an essential part of our existence and generally comes from the earth. Its sensual, because as I have blogged before, food and wine are an experience for the senses beyond simple taste. Its social, because you use the time to interact on many levels with your fellow diners: you talk, you listen, you see how they enjoy their food, you see how they react to you and you enjoying yours, and its a lot more intimate than we initially realise. There are so many things we are doing while eating a meal, and I think we realise maybe half of them.
Right, so where was I going with this. I've just had my first glass of wine since NYE and its gone straight to my head. What a cheap date.
Here's where I was going. Or not. Fuck, way to be REALLY self referential. Can you say Dave Eggers?
I am a manners snob, but I don't want anybody reading this to think that it is directed at them because we may be dining together in the future, or have dined together in the past. This is the problem with knowing and meeting bloggers.
I have another whole blog festering away in my head right now, perhaps I'll write it and post it later. Again, another problem with knowing and meeting bloggers, one is torn between writing what one wants to say and knowing that someone will read it, and wanting to use the blog as a means to say what is not appropriate to say to their face.
Ok, perhaps I'll turn up Duran Duran and dance around my room for a while. That should sort things out a bit.
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
I don't understand how a heart is a spade, but somehow a final connection is made
I now have Skype.
Yes Tim, I know you put it on my computer freaking ages ago, but I didn't know how to use it, so I removed it, and now have a shiny flash new version. Thing is, I looked up a couple of email addresses on it, and couldn't find anybody. The fact that I am a bit retarded was probably coming into play a little there. As of yet I don't have a microphone thingy, so can't actually use it to talk yet in a real talky way, but can IM to my heart's content. I have no money to buy a headset because I spent it all last weekend. Soon....
So, people that I like please be informed that my skype contact is claire-amelia.
I am going to the dentist tomorrow. I know I will have to get one of my teeth removed, which pains me greatly, but I'm sure its going to pain me even more to get the bloody thing pulled out, and then bridgework done to stop all my other teeth moving because my teeth are practically freaking perfect and I'm bolloxed if I'm going to look like one of those deep south hicks with gaps in their teeth I'll keep my perfect smile if I have to get up to my eyeballs in debt to do so.
Also, Nick Cave is cool.
As is Netflix.
And me.
My feet hurt.
I have to pee.
I really fancy a cup of tea.
A chocolate biscuit would be nice too.
My fingers are crackling.
My mum is obsessed with teatowels.
I had a really weird dream last night.
It's 1.31am.
Only ten days to go.
Blogger is being a little odd.
Goodnight.
I now have Skype.
Yes Tim, I know you put it on my computer freaking ages ago, but I didn't know how to use it, so I removed it, and now have a shiny flash new version. Thing is, I looked up a couple of email addresses on it, and couldn't find anybody. The fact that I am a bit retarded was probably coming into play a little there. As of yet I don't have a microphone thingy, so can't actually use it to talk yet in a real talky way, but can IM to my heart's content. I have no money to buy a headset because I spent it all last weekend. Soon....
So, people that I like please be informed that my skype contact is claire-amelia.
I am going to the dentist tomorrow. I know I will have to get one of my teeth removed, which pains me greatly, but I'm sure its going to pain me even more to get the bloody thing pulled out, and then bridgework done to stop all my other teeth moving because my teeth are practically freaking perfect and I'm bolloxed if I'm going to look like one of those deep south hicks with gaps in their teeth I'll keep my perfect smile if I have to get up to my eyeballs in debt to do so.
Also, Nick Cave is cool.
As is Netflix.
And me.
My feet hurt.
I have to pee.
I really fancy a cup of tea.
A chocolate biscuit would be nice too.
My fingers are crackling.
My mum is obsessed with teatowels.
I had a really weird dream last night.
It's 1.31am.
Only ten days to go.
Blogger is being a little odd.
Goodnight.
Monday, January 02, 2006
First we'll take Manhattan...
Then we'll go home for a nice cup of tea and a chocolate biscuit...
No, doesn't quite have the same ring, does it. Well I have just returned from Manhattan, and can safely claim that I am officially no longer able to handle the jandal as well as I could a few years ago.
I was, however, up well past my bedtime on both New Years and the night before, and this guy and I put a fair dent in the vodka and cranberry supplies of a couple of bars.
This is what happens though. I end up looking like complete arse. Go the jammies!!!
The good news is, I had buckets of fun, got to hang with the incomparable Libby who is remarkably hospitable, and is one of the few people in this country who doesn't talk funny, and I ate far too much, and drank far too much, and upon drinking said amount, proceeded to have a couple of inter-blogger phone conversations, and met some interesting people, and a couple of boring ones as well I'm sure, and I just thought you should know that I didn't get chopped up into little pieces and posted home in handy pocket sized packages, and that I had tubs of fun and am all tired now and can't be bothered writing anymore so I'm going to bed to watch Jeeves and Wooster yay Netflix.
Oh, and I'm going back in two weeks for more mayhem!!!
Rock on.
Then we'll go home for a nice cup of tea and a chocolate biscuit...
No, doesn't quite have the same ring, does it. Well I have just returned from Manhattan, and can safely claim that I am officially no longer able to handle the jandal as well as I could a few years ago.
I was, however, up well past my bedtime on both New Years and the night before, and this guy and I put a fair dent in the vodka and cranberry supplies of a couple of bars.
This is what happens though. I end up looking like complete arse. Go the jammies!!!
The good news is, I had buckets of fun, got to hang with the incomparable Libby who is remarkably hospitable, and is one of the few people in this country who doesn't talk funny, and I ate far too much, and drank far too much, and upon drinking said amount, proceeded to have a couple of inter-blogger phone conversations, and met some interesting people, and a couple of boring ones as well I'm sure, and I just thought you should know that I didn't get chopped up into little pieces and posted home in handy pocket sized packages, and that I had tubs of fun and am all tired now and can't be bothered writing anymore so I'm going to bed to watch Jeeves and Wooster yay Netflix.
Oh, and I'm going back in two weeks for more mayhem!!!
Rock on.
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