What becomes of the broken hearted?.....

I am so tired, I feel like I have nothing left. I don't know how I am going to deal with this.
I have nothing left in me.

I thought after M died I had run out of tears to cry, thinking of those children without their Dad in their lives, but a couple of hours ago I discovered a whole new source. I only barely cried when I was robbed, I was so afraid and so angry, but today I've gone past anger, and I just feel empty.

The man of my dreams is now just that: in my dreams.
And now I must mourn again, for the loss of an idea, an opportunity, the possibility that this could be my chance to love, and be loved in return.

I am so tired.

Rent a flat above a shop, cut your hair and get a job


I sent this photo to the Man of my Dreams last night, just in case he has forgotten what I look like.
Do you like my new glasses? They kind of look a bit like Charlie's, I think.

My room, last night. Yay for a camera built into my computer.









Lindsey, aka "Whorebag" sent me a parcel today from Michigan..... a replacement drawstring stripy backpack with a unicorn on it, just like the one that got nicked the other day. Yay for her.
PS I'm allowed to call her that, cos thats what she calls me.

Samara, Costa Rica, March 2007.

















Sing it Ben!!!


Ben and Karen's place, December 2006.

















After this encounter, I have decided that giraffes have moved up a few notches on my list of favourite animals.


Orana Park, Christchurch, January 2007.
















If you have seen the Narnia movie you may recognise this landscape. Or not. Whatevs.


Castle Hill, January 2007.






Right now I am feeling an interesting mix of virtuous and totally knackered. Yesterday I drywalled for 6 hours ( quote: God made you tall, so you could drywall!!) and today I did my pilates thing and my gym thing. Muscles go ouchies!!
Is 6.50pm too early to go to bed?

This post brought to you by the maxim that a picture is worth a thousand words.

See the great white stars over Battery Park

I can't believe I'm about to say this..... but I'm bored with the internet!!!
There are some great blogs out there, don't get me wrong (and you know who you are!), but a lot of the other sites I read are boring me.

I need some new things to read.
I need some things to read that make me go "Ooooh, I want to go and read that".

Help me Obi Wan Kenobi.

Edit: I just managed to spend a little over an hour uploading my pics to panoramio. Soon they will be visible on Google Earth and you can see the prettiness of some of the places I've been, but until then you will have to sign in and add me as a friend. Clairenz, as per usual. Go on.

There is only one kind of dance: the Robot.
And the Robo Boogie.
Oh, yes. Two kinds of dances

Because I know that this is the place to go for all your entertainment information, here is some exciting news, just to hand.
Anyone in the US, watch Conan O'Brien tonight because Flight of the Conchords will be on.

This one time, I stuck a moustache on Bret McKenzie made out of gaffer tape.
I am famous.

News re: replacemant stuff, subpoenas, district attorneys and other such fascinating events to be reported when I am not so fucking sick of talking about it. Ok? Cool.

Its not paranoia if the universe really is out to get you

I think the suck knob is stuck on 11.
Seriously, just when I think I've got the hang of the last shitty thing that happened in my world, here comes another one!!!
Welcome to the Pity Party.

Thursday night, my girl Rebecca and I are out to dinner to celebrate the completion of her MA. Go her.
Burritos, followed by a trip over the road for an after dinner drink, then a quick stop off at the shop so I can buy some milk for my morning cuppa before we head back to mine so she can get in her car, evening finished.
Nice plan, don't you think? Thwarted plan, however.

Thwarted by two fucking little cunts who decided that it would be a really good idea to pull a gun on us and steal our stuff. Now where I come from, we don't really have many guns. The cops don't carry them, in general they are few and far between.

In this fine country however, its a person's constitutional right to carry a gun, thus enabling the scum of humanity to shove one in my face, steal my bag and scare seven shades of shit out of me and my friend.
The pro-gun people have clearly never had a punk arse kid point one at their face.

We went straight to the cops, and spent the next 3 & 1/2 hours at the cop shop downtown, making statements, identifying one of the little fuckers, and generally trying not to lose our shit.

I lost my purse, which a friend bought for me in Melbourne one birthday and my niece had stuck a Spongebob sticker on so I would think of her whenever I saw it.
I lost my cell phone, with God knows how many numbers on it, video from Coachella, and sweet text messages from the object of my affections.
I lost my Swiss Army knife which my best friend bought for me 6 years ago as a gift when I was off to Europe.
I lost my glasses, my fucking $450 Oakley glasses that I am completely fucked without given that reading is both my work and my play, and am now reduced to wearing my old ones that fall off my face and are of an old prescription, so I can't read for long before the headache comes.
I lost my sunglasses that were freaking awesome and suited me like no pair I'd found before.
I lost my super awesome stripy bag that I bought for Coachella and that was the perfect size.
I lost all the shit that was in my wallet, not only credit and bank cards, but the access to my NZ bank accounts, my health and prescripotion insurance cards, my AirNZ airpoints card and a free pass to the Koru Lounge for next time I'm stuck in an airpoint, my student ID, my social security card, my international student emergency card, my video rental cards, my library card, my NZ drivers licence.
I lost my keys including the key rings I had bought in Toronto and Costa Rica, my house keys for both old and new apartments, for my offices at the university and the filing cabinets.
I lost a set of keys belonging to the object of my affections, including his bike lock, keys to his house, his car, his offices at 2 universities.

Basically a whole list of shit that is absolutely worthless to anyone but me.

And now I'm sitting in my house too fucking scared to go anywhere cos right across the road is where I had a gun in my face. And I'm not scared of ANYTHING!!! (except submarines. And dolls. But nothing else)

The detective who took our statements was most apologetic that he wasn't allowed to give me ten minutes alone in the room with the guy we identified as the punk arse fucker with the gun. We like that detective.

I hope your weekend is better than mine.

Sans phone

Due to circumstances beyond my control I am phone-less, and as such have lost everyone's numbers.
So, if I like you, please email me your number to (mynamehere)nz AT gee mail DOT com so that when I get a new one I can call you and you can tell me nice things.
Ta.

Stop this day and night with me and you shall possess the origin of all poems

All the things I want to say have already been said, but by people far better equipped to make ordinary words into something beautiful, people like Emily Dickinson and ee cummings and I'm scared to say them out loud because that makes it real and if it all goes bad then the words are out there and I can't get them back and they will taunt me with their presence.
Trying to be fair is really fucking difficult when you are a spoilt attention seeking princess. I want to scream and stomp my foot and say all these things but they would make things worse and I would regret that forever but attempting to rein in one's baser instincts is a challenge at times.
To say one's piece and be heard is frightening and motivates one's insecurities so badly: did you hear that part, do you remember what I said, do you believe me? I say so much and so much of it is complete shite one needs to be able to say certain things in underlined bold type italicised 34 point flashing red and yellow font.

Also, I watched The Notebook and I cried like a little kid with a skinned knee. Good stuff.

Snap, Crackle, Pop

I have just come from the chiropractor, where my neck was contorted in all sorts of ways and made several rather cringe-inducing hearty cracks, and for the first time in about 2 weeks, I no longer have a headache.
Happiness abounds.

Vroom Vroom!!!!

I have been driving. Not too much of a feat, you may claim, especially for those of you who do so on a daily basis. Me, however? Well, at home I drive on a daily basis. Since I have lived in this upside country, I have been chaffeured around like Lady Muck pretty much since I got here.
But a couple of weeks ago I popped my "driving in the US on aka the wrong side of the road" cherry by driving an astonishing 3 blocks, and yesterday I drove from my current house to my new house many times, shifting my flatmate's stuff, and then to the co-op and back again, and today the tables really have turned because I am driving one person to the airport and another to the train station. On the motorway. Argh. I figure if I can survive the Auckland motorway I can survive pretty much anything though. We'll see.

Quote of the day goes to my girl Rebecca, for this beaut:
In a discussion with Lisa about the astonishingly poor levels of snoggable people in this town:
"It's like a vegetarian buffet, you're looking for fresh meat and it's all tofu"

BOOM!!!

About 15 minutes ago the weather got really funky.
It was stinky hot and generally quite disgusting, then all of a sudden the skies darkened, to a collection of deep angry blues and greys.
Then the thunder came, it began as a rumble and within no time at all was cracking overhead, drowning out whatever conversations may have been going on. Meanwhile, the temperature dropped dramatically, perhaps 10 degrees C in as many minutes.
Now the rain has come; thick, serious rain that doesn't just wet, it soaks anything and everything. Its running down from the drains like someone has turned 20 garden hoses on full and set them on the roof of my house, just above my bedroom window.
And then, just like that, it departs. The thunder has receded to a rumble again, the rain is a few trickles and the lightening is merely a glow. Thankfully the temperature has remained at a sensible level, so that those of us ill-equipped to deal with anything over 25 degrees are able to return to the world of the living.
I would say four seasons in one day, but this town has only 2 seasons. Three feet of snow and below-freezing temperatures; and brain-meltingly hot. Yay, then, for the infrequent and short-lived thunder storms.

London, quiet down I need to make a sound

I have a headache.
Not just your regular run of the mill headache either, on the scale of headaches with 1 being a mild twinge and 10 being a "please someone pass me the power drill I need to drill many holes in my head so I can let the hyperactive axe-wielding homocidal maniac who is running around inside my skull out" this one certainly measures around 8, maybe even 8 & 1/2.
This one certainly qualifies as a "right cunt of a headache".
Seriously. I've had it for at least a week now, and I know its because I am stressed and anxious and when I am stressed and anxious I hold lots of tension in my shoulders and neck which causes lots of pain in my head because chiropractically I am a pretzel.
The suck-knob is turned up well high. Who wants to buy me a massage?

By way of distraction, here are the next ten songs that come up on my iTunes:

1) M.I.A.: "Bucky Done Gun"
2) Morrissey: "The More You Ignore Me, the Closer I Get"
3) Midnight Oil: "The Power and the Passion"
4) Depeche Mode: "Waiting for the Night"
5) Blur: "Tender"
6) Interpol: "A Time to Be So Small"
7) Throwing Muses: "Bright Yellow Gun"
8) The Clash: "Bankrobber"
9) Powderfinger: "These Days"
10) The Decemberists: "When the War Came"

In other news; it is looking good for those of us who are still reeling from the OMFGPLZNO of the CSI finale..... ok mainly me...... check the cast list for the fall preview.
*launches into "I will survive"....changing it from "I" to "she".....

You wanna know why can't sleep unless I've got a belly full of wine?
You show up in time for a bad time

Today I had to get up BEFORE MIDDAY. And tomorrow I have a meeting at 11am. Oh, the humanity.

I am on a mission.
I know I keep saying it, but this time I mean it.
My plan: to go to the gym loads and drink WAY LESS booze and get all fit so that I'm a smokin' hottie with a fantastic stomach and a pert bottom.
That way, if this whole relationship thing goes south, then at least I can feel fabulously hot and rub his face in it and go "look at all the hotness you are missing out on".
Cos I'm really growed up like that.
Also, getting skinny and smokin' is an admirable goal for the summer, on its own. Plus, my sister and I are going to co-motivate each other to lay off the wine and the junk food and be all exercisey and healthy. In keeping with that, today I ran for a whole 20 minutes on the treadmill (yeah, not so flash, but its the first time I've been to the gym for months) and then did another 20 on the total body cross-training machine thingy (thats its technical name, you see).

Ok my 11am meeting is in 9 hours, and I still have 82 variables left to code before then. Piss.

Inaction is a weapon of mass destruction

Things I tried in attempts to get rid of this headache I woke up with (and no, I didn't get drunk last night)
- drinking lots of water
- stretches (because headaches usually come from my neck which is a bit fragged)
- a cup of tea
- aspirin
- a nap
- chocolate

Things that actually worked to get rid of my headache
- beer
- lying on the sofa watching CSI

In other news, my Dad gets double quote of the day award today for these gems:

(1) re: my current love life situation and the messiness thereof: "Love, you'll have more trouble with men than you will with anything else in your life".

(2) re: the catering plans for my vegetarian sister's upcoming wedding and his suggestion that there be a meat option available to those who would want it: "I am just concerned that if there is no meat someone might kill one of the guests and eat him or her and that might detract from the occasion".