At least one of my dreams is coming true....

Viggo is coming to a city near you!!!
If, of course, by "city" I mean "small town" and by "you" I mean "me".

Booya.

These mishaps you bubble wrap when you've no idea what you're like

Again, the Emmys disappoint....

....blah blah...shit television wins....blah blah...glorifying reactionary politics and institutionalised violence....blah blah....perpetrating the idea that women are to be judged firstly on appearance, secondly on talent....blah blah....

Hey if I really hated it that much you think I would have turned the telly off, but no.
The highlight was Hugh Laurie co-presenting an award with Helen Mirren, and speaking entirely in French.
The lowlight was the rest of it.

I felt an obligation to waste time on my last evening before school began....yes tomorrow the madness begins....shit.

So, due to the radiation exposure and brain-atrophy I experienced while watching said crap awards show, I am unable to come up with anything really interesting to say, nor do I really have the motivation to process the random sound-byte-like thoughts that are swirling around my head. So here are some pictures from NZ, to prove once and for all, how good it really is to be me (aside from the whole brain-not-working thing of course....)

The view from the front porch at our house in Wanaka

The view from my bedroom at Wanaka. Yes, MY FREAKING BEDROOM!!!!!!!

Stephenson's Arm, Lake Wanaka

Pegasus Bay winery and restaurant, about half an hour north of Christchurch, and home to the finest Merlot on this earth.

Swing Bridge, Kaitoke National Park (Rivendell), Wellington.

Also, because of the excessive BBQing I have been partaking in over the last few days, as a result of being seconded to another department for the coming year and generally being social, I have been thoroughly munched upon by mosquitoes. I have no calamine lotion in the house, and my flatmate's partner said that vinegar does the trick nicely, in terms of stopping the itching.
The result, considerably less bite-related aggravation, but I smell like a London chip shop. Mmmmm. Delicious.
And with that lovely mental image, I shall depart to bed.

Stones taught me to fly

Brief update in manner of person with insufficient sleep reserves....

Luggage has been found, will apparently be delivered before 11pm. Note: is currently 11.23pm.

Have almost completed shifting from old bedroom (SO 2005!!) to new bedroom (much cooler, literally) after beginning at 8am.

Cellphone run out of credit, apologies for not returning/sending texts.

I got interviewed in LA. Here it is.

Am gagging for a shower..... back tomorrow.

I love Los Angeles
Also, Ryan Seacrest has a star on the Hollywood walk of fame. The earth is doomed.

LA LA Land....

I'm in LA with Sunshine.
Its still Thursday, and its been Thursday for about....ummm.....attempts calculations in poorly functioning brain....
Ok so I landed in LA nearly 4 hours ago, and before that I was on a plane for twelve hours, and when I got on the plane it was 6.45pm..... still can't work it out....

A FREAKING LONG TIME, OK????

Going to see some motherfucking snakes on a motherfucking plane tonight.

Whatcha gonna do with all that junk
All that junk in your trunk

Today I am going back to Merika.
I have to pack a whole bunch of stuff into my suitcases, in doing so defying the laws of physics in the manner of the Tardis or similar.
I also have to fly to Auckland for two hours, then sit on a plane for TWELVE HOURS to LA and by the time I get there it will be four hours before I leave Christchurch. That does one's head in a little.
So, this is probably my last post from Aotearoa for a while, at least until I get back on the 20th of December.
See you on the other side... unless my plane explodes.

Look out California.

We'll be here next Saturday, with our guns and our heads held high....

I am sure I have forgotten someone. I just sent a few texts out inviting people to come and have dinner with me on Wednesday to celebrate my imminent departure and it is entirely possible that I have forgotten someone REALLY important and have just made an enemy.
Of course, I have only texted people who will be in Christchurch on Wednesday. I is clever, you see.
So, my point is that if I like you and you are in Chc on Wednesday night come to the Flying Burrito Brothers. Or not, whatever.

Today I bought swimming togs because being the demented retard that I am I left mine in the great state of Zoo York, and I tried on this pair and was making faces in the mirror and my mum said "What do you not like about them?" and I said "THE GIGANTIC FAT BODY THATS IN THESE TOGS!!!"
I am so fat, cars swerve to miss me and run out of petrol.
I am so fat when I go to the movies, I sit next to everyone.
I am so fat, I have my own gravitational pull.

Whoever said "May you live in interesting times" was referring to me and mine, because life is interesting and rarely ceases to be so. Today, perhaps as a result of all the interesting combined with some tired and some hormones and some Holy-mother-of-God I am so fucking sick of the rain-itis I was in a big sad, and was completely miserable and my skin had worn too thin. I went home and said to my dad "I am grumpy and foul" and he suggested a wee lie-down, which did the trick nicely, and while I am not exactly a gigantic ball of fluffy kitten-like sunlight, I am no longer radiating black clouds of doom and despair. Jolly good news.

And finally, I am beginning a rather short and completely un-campaign-like campaign to get our dear Sunshine to come and see The Living End at the House of Blues on Sunset Strip this Friday. The Living End are awesome and doth indeed rock, and I am possessed with an inexplicable urge to leap around like a fool and shout WE-E-E-EST E-E-E-END RIOT!!!!

And that will be all for now, except for the fact that terrorists are complete twunts and I am no longer allowed my handcream on the plane, and am therefore unlikely to be allowed to carry several bottles of duty-free 42 Below Feijoa vodka to sustain me through the harsh winter months to come and will be forced to drink inferior non-tropical fruit flavoured drinks and shall become bitter and die withered and alone surrounded by cut-out pictures of beaches and delicious fruit.

I just tried to post pictures....

But Blogger is being a dick.
And now I'm off to Wanaka with me Dad.
Photos to follow.
I hope the rain stops soon.
Bye.

Five things: tagged by my LA girl

Five things in the freezer
1) Aloo paranthas
2) Frozen spinach
3) Vodka
4) Hash browns
5) Caramel fudge ice cream

Five things in my closet
1) Chocolate brown leather knee high Tommy Hilfiger boots (as pictured....sigh....)
2) Sleeping bag
3) Turkish cashmere pashmina shawl
4) Some dust and fluff and lint and maybe a few spiders
5) A gigantic red suitcase

Five things in my car
1) A catalogue for ride-on lawn mowers
2) Black high heeled shoes
3) Dog hair
4) A cd tape adapter
5) The memory of petrol (at $1.72 a litre, thats all it gets)

Five things in my backpack
1) Hairclip
2) Swiss Army knife
3) passport photos
4) Chewing gum
5) An African copper and brass bracelet

I tag Heather, Raspberry, Michelle, Tara and Zach Braff. Cos why the hell not, aye?
This DOES NOT however, mean that I am giving up on the previous post.

Also, in 2 weeks I am going to LA.
Come and drink with us.
But only for a little while, because Sunshine and I are going to drink margaritas and paint our nails and talk about boys and have some quality girl time*.

*In a thoroughly wholesome, fully clothed and not remotely filthy way, get your mind out of your knickers please you filthy potty minded sod.