urgh.

This will be brief because I am horrendously hungover.

I am Nic-Less as he headed off to NYC today for 48 hours, then off to Spain to walk across it. As you do.

I have (finally, one year later) updated my Flickr account. More to come.

Sophie is still delightful.

I finally watched the CSI finale, and all I have to say is WTF?!?!?! I did not see that coming.

Happy birthday Sunshine!!!

I have just sent out invites to the "fuck off Claire" party.... at final count we were nearly at 50 people. Shit. Am tempted to send them to my blogger friends as well.... you know, just in case they were in the area..... because people from Colorado and Arkansas and Vancouver and Toronto often stop by Shitsville, New York for a weekend.

Foolishly I went and said I was going to make pavlova. Hens? Get laying!!! I am going to need a bajillion eggs!

In other news, Operation Arse Shrink has been going well. I am eating larger lunches and smaller dinners, walking loads and I even have sore stomach muscles from doing sit ups.

The upside to walking lots is spending time with my one true love, Maggie the Mega Dog.

Things I like about walking with Maggie include:
- she stops and gives me kisses whenever I want them
- she doesn't want to talk about her feelings
- she doesn't talk about psycho-babble bullshit and only cares about the important stuff in life
- occasionally she will be struck by these attacks of utmost joy and will spontaneously frolick and gambol like a happy little lamb, and I find these moments refreshing
- when there is freshly cut grass she declares damn the torpedoes and rolls around in it, turning all her white hair green like some late-to-the-party St Paddy's Day drinker, all the while knowing that the rest of us are a little jealous because the smell of freshly cut grass is so appealing that we secretly want to roll around in it too.
- I get to look at this face. This picture belongs in the dictionary, next to 'happy', and cross-referenced with 'have you ever seen a more beautiful dog?'

Oh Maggie..... however am I going to steal you away and sneak you through customs when I go back to New Zealand?

I'll take you all on

Today it was Not Freezing (7 in normal, 44 in American) which makes a rather significant change from the last few months, so to celebrate I borrowed Maggie the Mega Dog and together we felt the wind in our hair and got mud on our feet and ran through the park and chased the blackbirds and breathed the air and smelled the first beginnings of spring and we were happy.

Two Things....

1) When Sophie goes out walking in the snow she doesn't let the snow get in the way of her snuffling all the things that dogs sniff so she sticks her nose right in to the snow to smell stuff and then she gets these little mountains of snow on the end of her nose and she doesn't even seem to notice but there little nose-snow-mounts just kill me because they are so damn cute and yet another thing that Sophie does that makes her pretty much the cutest dog I know.

2) The other night I had this fantastically filthy (in the best possible way) dream about totally hot TV guy but I can't say who it was because I am ashamed to admit that I watch the programme that he stars in because I have a reputation to consider goddammit and while I freely admit that I love dumb things like movies-in-which-stuff-blows-up there are some things that I just can't admit out loud so my secret TV guy crush will have to remain secret.....

What I do on a Saturday

The Plan: chill out here, have a leisurely shower, go for a drink later on with my friend Jesse.

The Reality: Fluffy McStinkbomb, aka Sophie the dog-I-am-looking-after takes a trip outside just prior to my going-out-for-a-drink. Goes mental barking at the porch. Scares a skunk, who in turn unleashes his special brand of stinkbomb onto Sophie. Claire dry retches at the smell.

My Saturday night:
Call Jesse to say "frightfully sorry and all that, but I'm going to have to stand you up".
Wash the dog (who is at least half collie or shepherd or something equally fluffy).
Wash the bedclothes that the dog jumped on after being freshly skunked.
Clean the bathtub that the dog was washed in.
Wash the floor that the stinky dog ran over, leaving a trail of skunk-scent.
Wash the sofa cushion covers the dog jumped on that now smell of skunk.
Wash the sheets from the spare room bed the dog leapt on.
Wash the towels used to dry the dog off.
Wash the other towels used to dry the bathroom floor.
Wash the clothes worn while washing the dog.
Have scalding hot shower in an attempt to burn the skunk smell from my nostrils, as well as skin, hair etc.
Rummage through cupboards in attempt to find suitably smelly things to boil on the stovetop to drown out the skunk smell (first pot: lavender spray and cinnamon, second pot: coffee. Third pot: anybody's guess. Am considering entrails of dog).
Spray radiator heaters with aforementioned lavender spray then place rosemary on all heaters in the hope the scent will travel.

It's olfactory overload here tonight!!!
Eau de skunk/wet dog/coffee/lavender/rosemary/bleach/shampoo/cinnamon/washing powder.
My nose is confused.

In keeping with the general theme of "Things that My Life is Missing"....

I want one of these.
OK that's all for now.
Bye.

The Definition of Cold

-2 pairs woolly socks
-warm track pants
-long sleeved merino top
-t-shirt
-my sister's big brown woollen cardigan
-merino scarf
-polypropylene lined woollen hat
-pure wool gloves
-big heavy sheepskin coat

and it took 15 minutes of walking before I wasn't freezing anymore.

All so that this little fluffy bum could get another walk. The back yard doesn't look like that anymore. Its covered in this cold white stuff.....

I've seen love, and I follow the speed in the star-swept night

Over the last couple of weeks I have been having a mini-crisis about how I know far too little about anything, well more specifically far too little about the stuff I am supposed to know buckets about what with being a Graduate Student and all, with the intention being that ultimately I will be an Expert on Matters of Concern but today that doesn't seem to bother me too much, for the following reasons.

- Sophie is delicious and full of snuggles
- I had bruschetta and dolmades for lunch
- Its a lovely sunny day and I sat outside in the back yard under a tree and read for class
- Said reading is approximately 40 pages, compared to the hundreds one usually encounters
- I have just awoken from a 2 hour nap
- The house I am staying in this weekend is very nice.
- I went to the Farmer's Market this morning and bought a supermarket bag half full of tomatoes for $4. If you know how much I adore tomatoes, you will recognise how happy that is likely to make me.
- Sophie and I are about to embark upon a walk in the evening breeze, complete with all the delightful dappled light that tree-lined neighbourhoods provide.

This post brought to you by late summer Saturdays.

I never did mind about the little things

It appears that some of my students have a wee problem with geography. Apparently Tasmania and Tanzania are easily confused.

In other news, I went to the dreaded DMV today and magically (finally) had all the right forms and passed the test and am now a legal beagle in terms of driving my car in the Empire State.

To celebrate, here is a puppy.

Does anyone still read this?

Also, happy Talk Like A Pirate Day. Arrrrrr!!!!

The Monday update

This morning when I clicked on Stuff, I was greeted with this photo and that made me happy.

Yesterday I went to the laundromat and the man was there clearing the quarters out of all the machines and he did something to the machines I was using so that my washing was free. That made me happy too.

On Friday night I was all settled in watching geeky TV when Matt called to drag me out to Kitty Hoynes where I drank with the Irish for the first time in many years. You think I can drink? Damn, I got nothing on those lads. Nothing, I tells ya. Saturday was fun, in a "Holy shite I think my head might actually fall off" kind of way.

Flatmate is back tonight so yesterday I finally got my shit sorted and organised my room and last night I finally slept in my new bed of awesomeness and it is huge and fantastic and I think I am in love. I want to buy it presents.

This blog is rated O for Awesome

Buckets of fun right here

The definition, in fact, of a box of fun?
Four chocolate labrador puppies in a box, having been taken to the vets for their puppy shots.

I believe I have mentioned these wee guys before, but having just found the cord that connects camera to computer it was finally time to share their little faces.







This wee guy REALLY wanted to come home with me, I could just tell.












The brothers Morris, at Monday's karaoke extravaganza.
Having met their parents a mere few days earlier, I can safely say that I like the entire family!!
How often does that happen?











Miss Tyra getting down with her bad self.

Turns out she really DOES rock the hizzouse.













Yep, I sang.
Me and Bobby McGee.
It was awesome. If by "awesome" you of course mean "prompted by beer and the lack of people in the bar". Yep.







In other news, I just responded to an email from Fuckhead McDickwad, and am happy to report that I employed the following phrase: "you over-estimate me. I am far from being too good-natured to remain unfriendly forever"
and restrained myself from telling him: "it may in fact be emotionally convenient to look for reasons to dislike you, but right now I don't need to look, seeing as how you are handing them out like condoms at Mardi Gras".

Have I mentioned recently how good it is to be me?

Matthew Good's new song is fab

Yeah, I suck at blogging.
I would like to say that I'm uber busy doing fabulously exciting things, but then I would be lying and then I would have to smack myself and quite frankly I lack the inclination.

Saturday night supper club ended up here on, well.... Saturday night. It was motivation enough for me to get my house at least resembling something other than the aftermath of a category four hurricane. It was lovely and there was a cute baby and lovely salsa and other culinary delights and some awesome company.
Yeah ok, there was wine too.

On Thursday Tyra and I went to collect Felix from the vet where he had his "put a pin in my broken leg so it heals properly" surgery, and while we were waiting there was the opportunity to smooch not only one, but SEVEN Chocolate Labrador puppies. I took photos, of course, but the cord that connects my camera to my computer is somewhere in my room, and Saturday's cleaning/organising mission was restricted to the kitchen and living room.

There's nothing that really tops off a day like a box of squirming puppy love.
And now, because it is Sunday, I shall be downstairs drinking beer with my neighbour, as opposed to Friday night, when I was upstairs drinking beer with my neighbour.