What we do round here to pass the time

Fellow survivors of Blogchella '07 may remember the mighty red Target chairs.....
Well unfortunately the one I had didn't quite live up to Target's stellar reputation as the source of all that is quality and durable. Last night while sitting on my $4.99 deckchair at the inaugural Supper Club meeting; in a battle between gravity and structural fortitude my chair broke, right underneath me. Completely the fault of shoddy workmanship, and not remotely to do with the rather impressive size of my bottom, to be sure....
Anyway, Cordell (hereafter known as the Ideas Man) suggested that instead of merely tossing the broken chair into the rubbish, we pay homage to the gods of outdoor furniture, and set that motherfucker alight. Being the not-particularly-closeted pyromaniac that I am, how could I resist such an offer?

So here now, I present to you what happens when a group of highly educated people are let loose with beer and fire.






Mmmmm, the scent of burning synthetic fabrics lingers....

News just to hand....

Transformers: Greatest movie ever made.

Giant alien robots: check.
Stuff blowing up: check.
Fighter jets: check.
Hot guys*: check.
Car chases: check.
Cute dog: check.
Government conspiracies: check.
Absence of confusing and complicated plot that hurts brain: check.
Did I mention the giant alien robots? check.

*Josh Duhamel please leave Fergie. She is scary and looks like a man. I am much prettier.

Yet again, a picture is worth a thousand words.....


At least one of my faithful readers knows who I mean.

Read this now

Ok, thats all I've got for today.
However, yesterday I went to Philadelphia (for about 20 minutes, the trip took 12 hours) and on the way back ended up in New Jersey. Don't ask.

Seriously, read this. Too funny.

There's a light at each end of this tunnel you shout

In the last few days I have been at the lake with some friends trying to relax and figure out how to deal with this whole thing and when I think about it I can't breathe.
I have had the breath knocked out of me.

Its not just this, its everything in the last few months, one thing after another and it keeps coming: on Saturday I will be attending a memorial service for a vibrant young woman who mere days ago was celebrating a birthday and who was very dear to some who are dear to me.

But this whole thing.....I really don't know where to begin. I know in my head that the only way through to the other side of this is right through but I don't know what the first step is.
I hear Inara's voice in my head saying "this is just a moment in time, stand aside and let it happen" but if I could stand aside I would.
I want to crawl into bed and wake up when its all better, when I can breathe again.

I wonder if Maggie knows how much she has helped me in the last few days?

Am hopefully I will have something vaguely amusing and less self-pitying soon. If that fails, pretty pictures of the lake where I was over the weekend will follow. And more Maggie, of course.

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".

Use once and destroy

Sometimes I think the universe hates me... and then I realise all the incredible things I have in my life and I give myself a stern talking to for having a pity party when millions would give their right leg for half of what I have. Maybe their left leg, or an arm. Who knows. Anyway....

Suffice to say I am a pretty shitty situation right now. Part of it is my own doing, part of it is his doing, and part is the responsibility of that evil bitch Circumstance.
The real kicker is that there is no way out of this situation that doesn't suck significantly, for at least one of the parties involved. Another thing is that I just want to get on with my life and my summer and all the things I have to do so I wish I could get the whole thing out of my head.
So I'm sitting here preparing myself for the worst and hoping praying wishing for the best, and when I say best I mean the outcome that sucks the least for me.
I thought it was my turn. Maybe I was wrong, but I hope like I have never hoped for anything in my life that I wasn't.

Also, I think my iPod knows what is going on. I'm walking home from the bank, trying to get this whole mess out of my head, so Chris Knox's "Not Given Lightly" comes on. Really? Oh come on!!
Yay for the ability to skip to the next track: Powderfinger, "My Kind of Scene"...Placebo, "Your Taste in Men"... Nick Cave "Let Love In"...Elastica, "Connection".... The Datsuns "In Love"..... seriously? Is my iPod taking the piss? Finally one that makes sense, after skipping through all these "lets rub Claire's nose in the giant 12 car pile up that is her lovelife" songs I find one that seems mildly appropriate.... L7, "Shitlist".

In less navel-gazing related news..... Rocky is pretty damn good fun. Go and say hello.

Thou shalt not wish your girlfriend was a freak like me

If I really cared enough, I would update my links. There are blogs there I no longer read, there are some that aren't even active any more, and there are many and wonderous things I could link to, and that I could make you all read. Because I have that kind of power.

I know its only May, but to me it kind of feels like the time for some retrospection. Yeah, I'm fairly sure its an actual word.
Perhaps because its the end of the semester, and I'm kind of feeling like I'm evaluating things, which is what one does at the end of something. And by "one" I of course mean "me". Or "I". Whatever.

It's been a thing, it really has, these past few months, and if I had to choose one word to describe it, that word would be "isolation". I was isolated from my family while they buried one of our own, and to rub salt in the wound, the one person I thought I could count on for comfort proved that I was nowhere on his list of priorities.
In hindsight however, I should have seen that coming a good month or so before I actually did. The shoes were a dead giveaway, yet again proving me right that you can tell a lot about a person by their shoes. Take it from me: if the shoes are dorky, the relationship doesn't stand a chance.

And now I find myself isolated again, but this time for much happier reasons.
Right now I have no more to say on that here, lest I hex it or say too much or speak out of turn. Soon though, I hope.

Here is an interesting question: what words do your friends use to describe you?
By way of experimentation I got a few interesting ones out of Cardinal. Its a fun game.

Like a motherfucker from hell

Currently, my life consists of the following:

Wake up about midday, play on my computer for a while, drink some tea, chat online.
Watch a dvd or some telly at TV Links (warning: clicking that link may be hazardous to your productivity), pottering about the house being domestic, chatting online some more.
Going for a bike ride, rediscovering some of my cds that I never listen to because I am an iTunes junkie, taking a nap, sending an email, making some dinner, drinking beer and watching more telly.
Staying up until 2-3am, formulating some good intentions about all the things I will achieve tomorrow, going to bed.

Rinse, repeat.

What's the situation?
Two blokes and a fuckload of cutlery!!

Given the excessive amount of wine I imbibed last night (its practically compulsary to get stonkered on one's birthday) today was a little slow, to say the least. Yay to my peeps who came and brought me drinks!!!
My day involved some fried eggs, a lot of sleeping, some appreciation of the wonders of Skype, one episode of The Dresden Files, some more sleeping, a lot of cheese, a Ruby Tuesday's burger and a 10pm screening of Hot Fuzz. Its pretty damn funny, a little slow in parts but worth it. I've had that Supergrass song in my head ever since I convinced R-bizzle to come with me.
Tomorrow I am going to see if I can get my head around this whole driving on the right hand side of the road thing. After nearly 2 years, I think its overdue.
This post brought to you by the sustaining power of tea.
Goodnight preciouses.

Feeling old....

Today I am 31.

Oh well.

Its been a fairly good day so far, all things considered. Having stayed up most of the night, I slept until about midday, then did some dishes, ate some cheese, watched last night's CSI (HOLY CLIFFHANGER BATMAN!!! Is it September yet?) and now I think I will have a nap before I go out and drink wine with my peeps.

Its hard work keeping up with all the excitement of my life.

Life after Semester's End

Reasons why is it good to be finished with school work, at least for a little while: It is 11.57am. I've just watched some shit telly. I am going for a nap now. After that, I may well take a leisurely stroll to the post office, and then maybe email some of my friends.
Who knows. Its a mystery!

And tomorrow...... its my birthday, and I get to open these presents from home that have been sitting on my desk now for 2 days, taunting me.

This is for the friend, not the hater.

Pavlov's dogs got nuffin on me

So, 13 years later, David Bain wins his appeal, and gets a retrial.
This is pretty big news really, especially seeing as how this will be the last NZ case to be heard at the Privy Council.
I'm reminded of that Mark Twain quote (I am so my father's daughter*) about how the justice system is marred by the inability to find twelve men who can't read and who don't know anything. This is why I am unsure how I feel about removing the Privy Council from our legal system; in a small country, everybody knows everybody else's business, and a degree of distance may serve to add a degree of impartiality.
I was never totally convinced of Bain's guilt, nor am I totally convinced of his innocence, but being a firm believer that actions speak louder than words, I certainly admire the man's intestinal fortitude in taking his appeals this far. I think I probably need to read Karam's book now.

In other news, I have developed a Pavlovian response to sitting at my computer. Because I spend so much of my life sitting here, and because I am usually deathly tired, no matter what state I am in while in the kitchen, at school, doing the washing etc., the minute I sit at my computer I am overcome with an overwhelming desire to nap. Mmmmm, sleepy time......

First, however, I must finish my last 2 papers. Please send Timtams.

*My dear old Dad is legendary amongst friends, family and the Rotary Club for being able to recall a Mark Twain quote for any occasion.

Sunday 9.27pm

Ok I'm a little drunky. BBQ at my new landlord's house, apparently their Cinco de Mayo party is a regular occurrence: there was not just a keg, but a freaking BEER TRAILER and huge big things of margarita and tacos and it was awesome and now its freaking early Sunday night and I'm kind of off my chops and have already had to correct loads of my spelling already and its weird that I can type better when I'm not looking at my fingers....... anyway the moral of the story is...umm.... margaritas are good, as are Mexican holidays that allow one to drink on a Sunday for no other reason than its near the 5th of May.
Also, my cold? Still completely out of control.
That will be all for now, aside from this: sneezing, while awesome, does get tiresome after about one's bajillionth sneeze.

Nicholas Craig this is in lieu of the phonecall I attempted





Yay, just what the intertron is missing, more poorly made videos.

Fuck, who cares it's Damien freaking Rice he could cut off my hair, steal my computer, key my car and join the NRA I'd still love him.

Today I marked 47 final exams and 112 review papers I am on fire baby.

I have a rather disgusting cold and my snot is totally out of control. Its important to me that I share that with you.

TTFN

My Coachella

Friday:
Silversun Pickups
Arctic Monkeys
Peaches
Jarvis Cocker
Sonic Youth
Interpol
Bjork
Gogol Bordello

Saturday:
The New Pornographers
Travis
The Decemberists
The Arcade Fire
Blonde Redhead
LCD Soundsystem
The Good, the Bad and the Queen

Sunday:
Kaiser Chiefs
Willie Nelson
Placebo
Lily Allen
Amos Lee
Crowded House
Damien Rice
Rage Against the Machine

23 bands in 3 days: not too shabby


Highlights included:

- Interpol, but I think I mentioned that already
- hanging with cool people
- not being at school for a few days
- Ron Jeremy introducing Peaches
- Rage playing "Wake Up", aka "Claire's fav Rage song"
- Holland Chase losing a bet....
- Meeting some of my fellow countrymen, who mocked me for my alleged South Island accent.
- the people, did I mention the people?
- The Decemberists' audience participation involving yelling and whales.
- Impromptu party on Saturday night with mad Kiwis, Aussies and Canadians, as well as a few Americans, that resulted in the riot police being called out, complete with shields, dogs and teargas.
- Texting my Dad to tell him I was at a Willie Nelson concert

But now I have some of that pesky school work to finish..... shit.

Say hello to the angels






I'm still a bit in shock from the sensory overload of it all, but here are a few things from my weekend of awesomeness.
- deserts are hot
- Sunshine is Good People
- Heather D is buckets of fun
- Holland Chase and "Joshie" ((c) HKD 2007) give teenaged boys a good name
- Interpol rocks my world, and made me cry
- One can very quickly get sick of having to use Porta-Loos
- Pepsi is nasty, but does help in the bajillion degree heat
- A lot of Rage heads are wankers, but Rage themselves fucking rocked the party
- Its a bit rude when you can't take your own food into a venue, and then they charge you $8 for something that would normally cost $2 or $3
- Willie Nelson fans smoke a lot of weed
- despite the heat and the dust and the prices and the considerable distance from here to California, Coachella was worth every single fucking penny

Deserts are hot

I made it.

Survived my first Coachella, with nary a scratch. I've lost my voice, am tired beyond comprehension and am still reeling from the sensory overload, but fuck me if that wasn't the coolest weekend in about a bajillion years.

Updates and photos to follow, but right now we needs sleep, yes we do precious.

Fuck you I won't do what you tell me

Ok, its t-minus 55 minutes until R-bizzle arrives here to drive me to the bus stop to begin the Blogchella mission.
I'm convinced I have forgotten something vital, but I have my suncream and my hat and my stylish new $5 trainers, so we're good to go.

See you on the other side!!!!

Bond to Jayawardene, Sri Lanka 142/3 after 33

Sunny Tuesday, no school today, slept for about 10 hours last night, had some Marmite on toast for my breakfast, thinking about home cos its ANZAC day tomorrow and Bic Runga is playing on my iTunes, leaving town tomorrow night for the Blogchella mission, have a job organised for the summer, plans for the day include channelling my inner Domestic Goddess and grading papers.

Its a bittersweet kind of day.

Also, Daniel Vettori is the man. After all these years, I still have a crush on him. What am I, 14?

"So, life's a bitch. What do you want to do, cry about it?"

I watched The Episode last night, Maelstrom.
(Yes, I'm talking about Battlestar Galactica, build a bridge).
Spoiler alert....

Thing is, I KNEW what was going to happen at the end, because a) quite frankly; foreshadow much?!?! and b) because Ben told me.

That didn't stop me from totally losing it when it happened.

Yes, I am probably unhealthily invested in certain fictional characters, be they television or literary characters (I still worry about the fate of Saleem Sinai and his pickle factory) but in some ways they become important in our lives.

I am beside myself with anxiousness about the CSI season finale because I know who the Miniature Crime Scene killer's next victim is (go the spoiler boards!!) and nothing has been made public about a certain actor's (gender neutral) contract for season 8 and I know CBS are probably just fucking with us because they made this mistake before at the end of season 6 when Brass got shot and we knew he wouldn't die because he had signed on for season 7. But this one looks like it might be a real humdinger of a cliffhanger.

Anyway, I lost it last night when my beloved Starbuck bit it, and I know that in a couple more episodes she will return, again because Ben told me (ah, bless ya!) and I also know SHE IS NOT THE FINAL ONE because quite frankly my feeble little mind couldn't handle that.

Needless to say I am pretty fragile at the moment given the last month and the intense isolation that has resulted from it, so please nobody do things that may in the slightest bit upset me or I will either have a tantrum of epic proportions or sit in the corner and cry for an hour.

Its up to you to figure out what could possibly make a tough chick like me cry.... Hint: nobody sing "You are my Sunshine"....

Annoying much?

I'm sitting in my office at university rocking out to The Datsuns on my iPod and attempting to finish a presentation I have to deliver in a couple of hours, and some annoying cunt keeps opening the door and peeking in just enough so that I can't see who it is only the top of their head. Evidently they are are looking for someone who isn't here, but surely one look is enough?
I'm fairly certain none of my fellow residents of 027 are capable of pulling Star Trek type transport. Given that there are no windows in the basement, nobody is going to get in here via any route other than the door.

NOW FUCK OFF AND LEAVE ME ALONE!!!
wanker.

edit......
I just got a paper accepted for a conference in South Africa.
Awesome.

Put me out with the waste, this is not what I do

Nine sleeps to go, in one week tomorrow I will be headed west.... Actually south east, to Brooklyn, from where I will get on a plane and go west.
My neck hurts, my shoulders ache and I haven't done nearly enough work today because I am motivationally challenged.
Also, its fucking snowing. April 17th and its fucking snowing.
Shitfuckarsecuntbollocks.
I was talking to the delightful Ms Sunshine yesterday and she expressed her disbelief when I told her about the snow, so here is proof.

However, the good news, aside from my imminent Coachella cherry-popping, is that it is currently 7.07pm, and I am still in my jammies. Booya.

Did you cut yourself shaving or were you just thinking too hard?

I have decided, because this sort of thing is important, that I will let this guy audition to be my next boyfriend.

Yes, we can see how hot you are.
Really quite hot.
We are basking in your hotness.

Yep. I think I just hit rock bottom on the sad-ometer.
Must be time to start digging!!!

Blah blah blah

Oh my life is so exciting right now it's Saturday night and I'm sitting here with a cup of tea and sewing up a top in preparation for Coachella and watching a dvd. Before that I was working on my law presentation and stuff for this week's history class its all go right now.
Actually today doesn't suck too badly cos tonight I went out for dinner with people who are clever and interesting and as an added bonus I get leftover Pad Thai for lunch tomorrow.
Then I went to Tar-jay and got an airbed for $10 and some baby wipes and a drawstring backpack with a unicorn on it. It was awesome.

Who am I kidding, life sucks right about now for a bunch of reasons but there is always something to be happy about whether it be a trip to Target or the fact that there are only 12 days left until Coachella as I told my Mum its the thought of Coachella that is the only thing keeping me sane right now this is a really long sentence.

I want to go home but I'll settle for 3 days in the desert with my blogging friends and all those dirty indie hipster boys waiting to snog me. I am currently auditioning for a new bf, so it seems as good a place as any to look.

This is extra sexy it should encourage lots of boys to snog me: I have excema on my finger it looks like I've got leprosy I am so hot.

I had to explain to Lindsey the difference between a snog and a shag, she thought they were the same thing bless her little heart.

This post brought to you by the letters ADD. At the tone, the time will be 2.30am.....
...................................................................................................BEEP!!!

And so it goes....

Kurt Vonnegut is dead.
Long live Kurt Vonnegut.

Thank you for Kilgore Trout, for the Church of God the Utterly Indifferent, for Bokononism, for Cat's Cradle, for God Bless you Mr Rosewater, but most of all, thank you for Slaughterhouse Five.

I hope you liked it here.

"I guess I should stop trying to impress you"
..."That would impress me"

Wanna hear something gross?

Warning: Its pretty gross.

Ok.
In January I got a wee mole removed from my hip/arse area. Kind of where the label is on the back on your jeans. Anyway. The stitches are internal, and they take a few months to break down. Thats cool, I've had this before and its all good. Better than having skin cancer, aye?

So I've noticed the stitches are gradually disappearing, I can tell because I can feel the lump they make under my skin, and its getting smaller. But one thing I've noticed in the last few days is that there is a tiny little spike in my skin, right at the edge of where the stitches are. And it is getting increasingly pronounced.
Yes, one of my dissolvable stitches is making its way out of my body, but unlike the rest of them its taking the most direct route.
It's the most intense combination of exceedingly gross and absolutely fascinating.

Are there heart strings connected, to the wings you've got strapped on your back?

One thing I have learnt in my few years on this planet is that sometimes its ok to be not ok. For years I would struggle through, always believing that breaking down or taking some time to heal was a sign of weakness. I refused any help that was directed my way, and the consequences were messy to say the least.
But now I've learnt to say that I'm not fine, and to take a little time out to fix whatever is broken, or to reconcile myself to its new shape as the case may be. Right now, I'm not ok. I know I will be ok again soon, but right now I need some time. Which explains why I nearly kissed my law professor the other day when he said I could take an incomplete for the course, and that he would sign off on whatever I needed.
This weekend I am dogsitting, so Maggie the Mega Puppy and I are going to have some quality walkies and snuggling on the sofa time, and spend just a little while not working.

The upside of the trauma and drama of the last couple of weeks is that I've lost 8lbs. Woohoo. Maybe I will fit into my summer clothes after all......

And now I have to pontificate on Fanon. Fun.

You want to know why I can't sleep unless I've got a belly full of wine

Yes I live out loud and I have to say things sometimes to other people because there is simply not enough room in my head and sometimes I blog things that others wouldn't for much the same reason things get so confused inside my head and its so cramped that I can't see them clearly for all the clutter so I have to get them out so I can see them properly then I can make an attempt at figuring them out.

So, it is done.

And now I can remember all the good parts, because half a year is a fairly significant amount of time really, so I must keep remembering my reasons which is a double edged sword because while I remain convinced I did the right thing I am continually reminded of the disappointment I felt when I thought he was different and I thought I could count on him.

I guess that will teach me.

where I live theres a blanket of sighs and it covers the stars in my heart I'm as hungry as ever where I live I'm afraid that I walk everywhere on my hands I don't trust where my feet want to take me

Here's a scene:
A 30 year old woman has been stranded in a foreign country for five days with the knowledge that a member of her family has died. As a result of being stranded, she is almost totally incommunicado. She finally arrives back at her house exhausted in mind, body and heart, and feeling more lonely and homesick than there are words for. Ever the optimist, she calls her boyfriend of nearly 6 months (who she hasn't seen since she left for holiday, and who leaves the next day for a conference) and the following conversation ensues;

Him: How are you doing?
Her: I'm fucking lonely and sad and miserable I want to be home. Will you come over?
Him: I hadn't planned on it.
Her: Well I'm not asking you to come over and stay, I thought you might want to see me. I kind of need you right now. The funeral starts in about an hour.
Him: Well I've got lots of work, and I'm leaving for this conference tomorrow. I think if I was to come over I would feel stressed.
Her:.........defence mechanisms arise, the rationalisations begin.......well if he doesn't want to come over I'll convince myself I don't want him to come over.......

What she wishes she said: TAKE YOUR FUCKING STRESS AND STICK IT UP YOUR FUCKING ARSE MY FAMILY ARE BURYING ONE OF OUR OWN IF YOU WERE ANY SORT OF MAN YOU'D STEP UP RIGHT NOW COME OVER AND SEE YOUR GIRLFRIEND FOR A FEW MINUTES, MOTHERFUCKER!!!!!!
... your about-to-be-ex-girlfriend that is.....

I can't wait to tell him that "It's not me, it's you".

Pathetic plea for cash much?

Costa Rica was great, many photos were taken, and much fun was had.
However, the fact that our trip was extended five days longer than intended is threatening to put the financial ixnay on the much anticipated Coachella Blogger Geek Fest 2007.

Now I know that you would hate to see me sit and home and cry while my friends are larging it up rocking out to Rage, so here is your opportunity to help, and live vicariously through me!!!

Look to the left of the page.... see there where it says Paypal? Not just for decoration, you know.
Anyone who donates money to the Get Claire To Blogchella Fund and emails me with their postal address will be rewarded with a souvenir postcard from the very event!!! It will be just like being there!!!

I figure if Tony Pierce got an iPod, I can at least get a few bucks to.... eat.

My New Favourite Song

dan le sac VS scroobious pip





See them here

As I write this, my brother in law's funeral is underway, approximately fifteen thousand kilometres away.
I'm sure that somewhere within me exists the appropriate words to describe this anger and sadness and feelings of injustice, but right now I can't find them. All I know is that the three people I love most in the world have lost their father, and I can't even fathom it. They are barely old enough to understand what a father is, let alone to face their lives without one. A thousand scenarios of their lives run through my head of moments 15, 20, 30 years from now at which his presence will still be missed, and I wish that I could make it better for them, that somehow I could take it all away and process it all for them and give them back the happy memories but I can't and that is why I cry. If I could take their small selves and hold them in my arms and tell them it would all be ok then I would feel better but this is so far from being about me its inconceivable and I would be lying anyway because its not ok they are burying their father.
The fact that they have to deal with sadness on this level at this age pains me like nothing I have known before and I can't compute it because all I see are their lovely little faces.

If the religions are right about God having a master plan about everything that happens we are all so desperately fucked, because this makes no sense by any standard.

Yes I am fucked off and yes I may well delete this tomorrow.

Be careful what you wish for

Haha, remember when I said I never wanted to leave here?
Well those of you who follow newsy type things in the US will know that a bunch of airports in the northeast were closed because of some nasty-arse weather, and as a result, we are currently stuck in Costa Rica. Yep, stranded. Going nowhere fast. Stuckerooni.
We were supposed to fly out on Saturday, and now it looks like Wednesday at the earliest. In the meantime, I shall be sitting by the pool reading Wallerstein and sustaining myself with a budget diet of pineapples, watermelon, bread and cheese. Being poor in Central America at the beach is a lot nicer than being poor in upstate New York.

A whole bloggylicious post about our adventures will surely follow, but once I get home, where I am not charged 1,200 colones for an hour on the intertron.

I hope you are all well and playing nicely amongst yourselves.

Pura Vida

This just in: I heart Costa Rica.
Still alive, despite the best efforts of the wind and the roads. Went on a zipline tour of the rain forest today, going to the beach tomorrow for a few days of sun and snorkelling, and then I run away, find a cabin somewhere and live here forever. Please send my belongings and boyfriend.

Details to follow.

Puede ayudarme

12.01am
Things Claire is doing
- eating curry
- blogging
- faffing about on the internet
- getting home from being out drinking with my friends

Things Claire is not doing
- ensuring she has packed correctly
- locating relevant travel documents
- sleeping, especially in recognition of the fact that the taxi to the airport arrives at 4.45am

Have a smashing week!!!!

And so it goes....

First stop, San Jose, because thats where we fly into and out of. One night there, and time for some museums, a city walk-about, perhaps even a meal or two.

Then its off to Monteverde, where I can pretend I'm in a beech forest at home. A couple of nights there, including some mountain trails, the cloud forest, birds and monkeys, and general prettiness.

After the green, its time for some blue; namely the beach, and back to my beloved Pacific Ocean. A couple of days on the Peninsula de Nicoya for sun, snorkelling, swimming, chilling, reading and some serious hammock-time.

In my near future I see some fresh air, some pina coladas, a couple more freckles and about six weeks of awesome packed into 7 days.

If I don't return, take good care of each other, and Sunshine can raffle off my Coachella tickets and keep the money.

Seriously.....

Please send money.
Costa Rica is on, I just need to fund it.

King of the Blues, indeed!!!

This just in.
BB King may be a gajillion years old, but damn! Dude rocks.

In keeping with the whole Southern Bluesy theme, we went for dinner to Dinosaur BBQ before the show, an idea shared by approximately half the state's population. Waiting an hour and a half for a table isn't such a bad thing when you've got a charming intelligent man for company and a seemingly endless supply of Pennsylvania's finest. Mmmmm. Beer.

Blues guitar is hot. Lucille is shiny.
That is all.

Yin and Yang strikes again.....

Read 'em and weep!!!

It almost makes up for the dizziness, exhaustion, burning throat and chunks of stuff I keep coughing up.
Ah, being sick is truly sexy. But its all ok, because soon I'll be better, and then I'll be going to Coachella.
SUCK ON THAT....*launches into coughing fit and falls off chair*

Djobi, Djoba

BEST. WEEKEND. EVER.,
Gypsy Kings rocked (I want them to play at my sister's wedding), Roger Sanchez was awesome, The Mexican restaurant with the 1 litre margaritas was fantastic (Hest and Bridget you need to go there!!), our tiny hotel room was cozy, even the four hour drive from here to Jersey and the train ride into Manhattan was fun!
My man is the bees knees, all that and a packet of crisps, he put the bop in the wop bop a loobop etc etc. Also, he smells really good.
Man, I am so loved up right now, its disgusting.

However, every rose has its thorns, and so we had to come back home and go back to work, and of course because I'm such an old fart, I can no longer handle the jandal, as it were, and I can feel that I'm getting sick.

But back to the good news, the flipside of the flipside, as it were, I may be going to Costa Rica for Spring Break.
Again, please send money.

"If you live in a council flat"... "beside a river"... "but are not blind"... WHAT? WHAT?! "What is your mother's maiden name?" What's her first name? I just knew her as Ma! Ma! That'll have to do. Ma... possibly deceased.

Urgh.
I have been trying to do my taxes, so I'm channelling Bernard and being distracted. The thing I can't figure out is that last year the IRS gave me $650, yet this year by my feeble calculations I owe them $290. So I've given up and am awaiting rescue by the lovely tax-software people at the International Student's Centre.
The stinky old IRS are shit out of luck if they think they're going to get money out of me, they should know I have precisely diddly-squat.
Hahaha, good luck you wankers.

In other news, I'm going to the Big City this weekend to see the Gypsy Kings and Roger Sanchez and stay in a swanky hotel in Times Square and the whole thing was a total surprise I found out about yesterday because my man is awesome. Bring on Saturday, and look out Manhattan!!

Also, please give me buckets of money, cos I've got none. Thanks.

Three things

1) I shovelled the snow off the front porch and steps and hurt my back and now I'm all ouchie.
2) My hair looks fantastic right now.
3) I want a new template, in red and black.

Ok bye.

Today school was closed for apparently the second time in 25 years*

Do you ever have a dream that causes you in the morning to go "what in the sphincter of hell?" yet the more you think about it throughout the day the more it makes sense?
Last night I dreamt I was going through all this old stuff of mine and I was in a big hall that was full of people I know and everything was white and shiny; and in my dresser, which for some reason were also in the hall; was all this junk jewellery all brightly coloured and shiny (I think I am a magpie) and I was so happy to have found it because it was all so pretty and completely useless. I am reminded of a similar dream I had many years ago that I told someone about at the time, and that person explained my dream to me so perfectly that the metaphors have remained with me since and most likely prompted last night's dream. Recently I was having a fairly intense conversation with two close friends about dreams and the stuff that really scares us right at the very core of our beings and I recounted a recurring dream I have that causes me to awake screaming and that gets right at the meat of the Things That Really Scare Me, and all the things that dream means to me, and I think ever since then I have had a worry in the back of my mind that I will have The Dream again even though I haven't had it for over a year, which leads me to believe that I am having dreams about pretty shiny coloured things to distract my mind from The Dream.
Ah, isn't the mind a wonderful thing? It has built in defence mechanisms.
Its really weird, because in the last few months, I think since Christmas, the occasion has arisen for certain things to be discussed, the sort of things that you normally and thankfully forget about, and on the occasion you remember you are disappointed that you couldn't forget them for just a little bit longer. There has been no particular reason for these things to be discussed, its just coincidence more than anything: places I went to with my family, things we talked about, things that we went through together and separately that for some reason ended up being discussed. Strange. Anyhoo.......

In honour of VD today I sat and watched the telly for 2 hours and drank scotch and even talked to the boy on the phone. Nobody can go anywhere at the moment because even though the roads get ploughed occasionally, there is still a mountain of snow across the driveway, even if you can get the car out of the carport and down the drive which is buried under a couple of feet of snow. /sarcastic font Its lovely -/end sarcastic font

*although school definately closed today, the above may be a total pork pie.

Fuck this shit

Ah, Claire is stressed and therefore unable to write complete sentences, and can only utter long strings of profanities.
The air has turned blue....

Oh God you owe me one more song so I can prove to you that I'm so much better than him

Things I've learnt in the last 24 hours
- My kickarse chicken salad (tm) works just as nicely with potato instead of chicken
- "Mono" is a great song for running to
- There are only 75 days until Coachella
- If you talk to each other, relationships are so much better
- Johnny Knoxville makes me turn into a sixteen year old girl in that I have an overwhelming desire to snog him

Ok thats all for now.

Friday morning 12.35am

Post removed due to effects of harsh reality of daylight and advice from a friend.... it may yet reappear who knows.
Its nice to be able to rant now and again, don't you think?

Matofotofo

I know I'm kind of late to the party, but I've just been faffing about creating my dream radio station on Pandora. Its the freaking business, and I don't think I will get any more work done for the rest of the semester cos I'll be too busy getting down with my bad self.

On a similar theme..... I just bought the soundtrack to Tsotsi on iTunes and not only is this a movie YOU MUST WATCH NOW the soundtrack kicks arse.

Love it, love it, love it!!!!

For more VD goodness, go here.
Send at least one. Go on.

Sunday Bloody Cold Sunday

Or, the one in which Claire drinks beer and watches sport.
Went to the basketball yesterday, Syracuse beat DePaul. Basketball is fun, we likes it we do. Got drunk, ended up at some party being hosted by law students drinking vodka and cranberry. I now have a very overhung bf. Completely adorable when hes hungover, all cuddly and sleepy.
Today is Superbowl Sunday, and I am enhancing the cultural experience of living here by participating in a Superbowl Party. Yep, going to a friend's place to drink beer, eat chips and watch football, and I use the word "football" in the most flexible way.
It will be a hell of a challenge to actually watch the game without commenting on:
(1) the number of breaks the players take, namely about one every two minutes
(2) the body armour and helmets and kevlar the players wear, not to mention the completely naff shiny tights
(3) the fact that there are about 100 guys on the team and almost the entire team is rotated every few minutes
(4) the extreme specialisation of each player who seems to be able to do about 2 things and then sits on the sideline for the rest of the game
BUT I am going to try! I think its unfair to ask anyone from rugby country to fully appreciate American football, because while on the surface it may seem the two games are similar, they really are so completely different, especially when it comes to the players.
Rugby players are hard men, there is no doubt about that. Their legs are the size of tree trunks, the only thing they wear in terms of bodily protection are the occasional mouth guard and tape around the ears, and they play straight for 40 minutes with maybe one or two stops, so someone can pick up their teeth or set their broken arm.
So this is why it appears I am constantly dissing American football, because when you're raised on rugby, it seems like the sport for poncy gits. But like I said, I am keen to give it a fair go.
Go Bears.

Thursday, 7.13pm

During class today I got a message on my phone from ticketmaster saying there was some kind of problem with a ticket I had recently purchased and that I had to call them back as soon as possible to resolve the issue. Of course, my first thought was "Oh Fuck they've shagged up my Coachella ticket now I can't go this is the end of happiness". My second thought was "You useless cunts can't a person complete a simple ticket transaction without you messing it up". So after some time on the phone, and the immense difficulty the woman on the phone was having understanding me (its called the English language, lady!!!) it turned out that even though the billing address on my credit card is in NY, the fact that my credit card is from NZ prevents me from being able to buy my Coachella ticket on it. Of course, the actual transaction that took place online, after which I checked my bank account in NZ to ensure the money had in fact gone through and my ticket was paid, wasn't equipped with the ability to tell me this at the time, so instead I had to waste ten minutes of my life on the phone.
GRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!
The outcome however, is that I still have a Coachella ticket, and fingers crossed the money from my NZ credit card will soon be refunded, or you may rest assured that ticketmaster will bear witness to 20 years of misplaced anger.

But its ok cos today is Thursday and I've done my Lenin presentation and I have a glass of wine and its possibly quiz night and its definately CSI night and er is on too and all I have to do it write a lesson plan for the classes I teach tomorrow and then I can sit and watch a dvd damn its good to be me.

Ok Sunshine, here we go

1. I’ll respond with something random about you.
I used to know a woman who christened her first child Sunshine. For serious, like. Although that's not so much about you though. How's this: the fridge in your apartment is always really clean. Hell, your whole apartment is always nice and clean.
2. I’ll challenge you to try something.
When we go to Coachella I am going to order a drink you have never heard of and you will drink it. You will also accompany me to see Crowded House.
3. I’ll pick a color that I associate with you.
Green, the colour of the t-shirt you were wearing the first day I met you.
4. I’ll tell you something I like about you.
Your unceasing generosity towards me, and the way I can talk to you about anything. Ok, thats two things. Get over it.
5. I’ll tell you my first/clearest memory of you.
Burbank airport, stinky hot sunny day, the sweet air conditioner in your car, May of last year.
6. I’ll tell you what animal you remind me of.
When I think of your place I am often reminded of that mouse in the trap I disposed of that night we went out drinking and came back to discover, but that doesn't remind me of you so much.
To me you are more like a Golden Labrador: caring, loyal, generous and dead cute, but if the need arises, you are more than capable of tearing someone's throat out with your teeth.
7. I’ll ask you something I’ve always wanted to ask you.
When we were at ******* did you and ******** really ********? Haha, just kidding. I think that is there were anything I really did want to ask, I could call you up.
8. If I do this for you, you must post this in your journal/blog.
Well that's what the rules say!!!!

Hey!!

If you're in, then you'll be in

Ok?

Generating jealousy the world over....

Smile if you've just bought your Coachella ticket.


Smile also if you really couldn't afford it but decided damn the torpedoes I'm going anyway.

90 days and counting.
Luther.... time to pony up.

I have but one thing to say,

MINUS SIXTEEN FREAKING DEGREES?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!

Bugger this for a game of soldiers......

Which one of you bitches wants to dance?

I hereby propose a Blogstock.
Last weekend of April.
Indio, California.
Coachella, baby!!!!

I am so excited I need to have a cup of tea and a lie down now.

Courtesy of D-bizzle

Here is a thing. I will do it, as others have. Now you might also.

1. I’ll respond with something random about you.
2. I’ll challenge you to try something.
3. I’ll pick a color that I associate with you.
4. I’ll tell you something I like about you.
5. I’ll tell you my first/clearest memory of you.
6. I’ll tell you what animal you remind me of.
7. I’ll ask you something I’ve always wanted to ask you.
8. If I do this for you, you must post this in your journal/blog.

1. Dave Says:
   January 23rd, 2007 at 6:02 pm

   1) if you covered your internet persona with candy it may be a chocolate e-claire.
   2) ask or answer a question in class beginning with ‘argh, matey’
   3) red
   4) you’re angrily honest. me like.
   5) bentleys. you were drunk and harrasssing Nic. instant friendship.
   6) a meercat. constantly alert and kinda dangerous but people tend to like.
   7) did you ever actually and truely plan to kill our flatmates in the Greenroom?
   8) do it.

Who want to go next?

Its a fair cop

Ok I suck at blogging, I suck so much you can all start calling me Nic.

Here's an update: I need money so I can go to Jamaica with my man for spring break. Today I shovelled snow, did the washing and cleaned the floor. I am taking a class in the Law school. I just bought a book on Amazon for 82 cents. My stitches are so freaking itchy I want to tear them out. About 2 hours ago I ate the last Tim Tam in the house. I have an 8.30 am meeting tomorrow. Nighty night.

I like to move it move it

Turns out I really like teaching. Today I had 2 classes, both of which had lots of students talking about significant things. It was nice.

And now I'm off to Target to buy homewares. Ah, life is good.
Stitches are so itchy I am beginning to go a bit mental.

How you turn my world you precious thing...

Guess who's back (na na na).
Yep, back in Shitsville, USA, armed with a packet of TimTams, two jars of Marmite, the latest copy of the Listener, and several litres of the finest NZ Sauvignon Blanc and Monteith's Summer Ale making its way through my veins, I return to the Great Satan for another semester of fun and games.
Fuck.

Its raining now, it was hailing last night, and the sunburn I got in Castle Hill is rapidly fading.

However, I did have a lovely night in LA with the delightful hostess with the mostest Sunshine but be advised one and all, that a Corona at Dulles airport in DC is $4.99. Given that the same beer is about half that here, the signs around the airport advising customers that one will not pay more for an item within the airport than one would in downtown DC generates a combination of mirth and fear that one's eventual time in DC for fieldwork will cost a gigantic arseload of money.

For those who have never seen it, this is what Claire Happy looks like. Of the bajillion photos I took while at home, about half are of the little peanut sitting on my lap there. The other half are of her sister. The third half are attempts to get their pre-teen brother in a photo, or of funky rocks at Castle Hill.

And now, after being back here for approximately 36 hours, it must be time to unpack my bags. Note, however, that my bags haven't been back for 36 hours; as is the custom with United airlines (hereafter known as Untied airlines), my bags took an unaccompanied adventure. They are getting better though, last time only one of my bags went AWOL, this time both of them went. On the plus side, they reappeared within 12 hours this time, in August it took them 3 days to find my stray belongings.

In other news, lovely boy back tomorrow. School starts tomorrow. Potential clash of a class I am taking with a section I am teaching. And so it begins....

Hi.
Going to Castle Hill with the whanau for a few days. My other sister has arrived in one piece from Chile, so we're off to the wop wops for some Quality Time.
If you want to see what it looks like where I'll be, watch The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe, esp the big battle scene. Or some bits fronm Fellowship of the Ring. Its the place with all the funny looking rocks.

Ok, gotta fly. Will be offline for a few days, then in LA..... Sunshine I will text you on Friday. My Friday, your Thursday.
Ok good.

Bye.

Blog blog blog

Eat sleep drink eat play with kids talk to sister drink watch movies play in the sun have barbeques go to the beach sleep drink Monteith's Summer Ale apply suncream shop swim text friends ignore imminent semester sleep play with the kids neglect blog and internets talk to sister about life the universe and everything shop eat sleep drink attempt to cram an entire summer into three weeks its exhausting sleep