Poor moi

Heaven forbid I ever get a terrible illness, not because of the obvious tragedy at my young age rah rah rah, but because I will be entirely without grace and utterly unbearable to live with.

I've been stuck on the couch all day with a bung back (medical term you wouldn't understand) watching Ewan McGregor and Charley Boorman on the Long Way Round. Sounds nice, and indeed it would be, if it weren't for the intolerable pain.

I don't know what happened. There are about a million possibilities all involving a 19 month old going through a bit of a clingy phase.

Every time Glen comes within range I give him my latest theory for my pain. "Must've happened when I was going to hang out the washing, and I kind of twisted through the door", "could've been when I was lifting him from his cot", "probably when I carried all that shopping into the house while holding Malo".... and so it goes on.

Poor Glen. He should make himself a cuppa.

Oysters!

Please talk me out of being obsessed with this.

Bluff for goodness sake.

Instant fame and fortune, here I come

Llew is doing a marvellous job of fast-tracking our TV careers.

I tell ya, you tell the universe what you want, and holy crap, she delivers.

Whoremonger

Roll it around your mouth.... whoremonger.

I read in the letters to the ed yesterday about some crim who was a whoremongerer, and honestly no other profession title has ever sounded so appealing.

Martha Wanda Harland BA, PGGradDipBusAdmin (Comm) (you know I only did it for the letters after my name)
Whoremonger

Like 007, but twice as cool.

And to combine two previous posts

A good story about menus.

Thanks Pamela.

Joke

This delight comes from Popbitch

A bloke walks into a lift and
stands next to a very pretty woman.

He asks, "Excuse me, can I smell your fanny?"
"No!" she replies, "Don't be disgusting."
"Oh well," the man shrugs his shoulders, 
"It must be your feet then.

Top Chef

I am very very hooked on a US show called Top Chef. It is by the same people who made Project Runway (which I also loved). It is a competition between a group of chefs, with an elimination each week.

Episode 8 is downloading as I write, baby is in bed, Finn is in kindy, I'm almost beside myself with anticipation.

Here are the torrents if you feel so inclined. It really is brilliant and brilliant and brilliant.

New picture

I've changed my picture again. It seems more accurate to show me with my new shorter haircut.

I know. Virtual world of no reality, you could all think I look like Bill Bryson or Pamela Anderson, and it wouldn't matter, but you know...

For the very, very observant

Some of you may have noticed a mention of fabulous expensive boots, from my Wairarapa sojourn post.

Well, this fine day, I have got the very fabulous boots brand new from ebay for US$40. This is about 1/15 of the price they were in the shop.

I know, boring, but some people like boot stories, and I'm stoked.

Our mission - should we choose to accept it...

As well as deciding to be waaaaaaaay more cultured (which I'm starting later, actually), while we were sitting in Greytown drinking our coffees, we thought we might try and look much richer.

I'm not really sure how to go about it.

Obviously there has to be more to it than spending lots of money, because, well, we haven't got lots of money to spend on doing it.

So what do rich people look like?

Mmmm, hot. So we need a suit for Glen, and a comb-over (note to self: stop cutting hair on top).




Perhaps we need to dress like someone a bit more hip.

Sweet!

Sunglasses - check

Dirty old t shirt - check

Long sleeved dirty old t shirt - check

Belt - check

Jeans - check








But what about me?

Well, Oprah is rich
but I can't do the leather thing.

What the hell do rich women wear?



















Yay Paris! As luck would have it, the Warehouse has everything I need to look like this particular heiress. Watch out New Zealand, I'm gonna look RICH.

Mummy blog

Finn starts morning kindy tomorrow. I can't believe he is so grown. Time to give him a beer and a cigar to celebrate, little champ.

Martha of the nation

Since Judy Bailey has been retired, New Zealand is lacking someone in the "Mother of the Nation" role. Kate Hawkesby will never do, frankly she is just a little too - um - available.

So I figure I'd better step in. Obviously I'll firstly have to get a journalism diploma, and then get a job as a newsreader (skipping the whole tedious reporter bit), and then I'll look doe eyed and a bit sniffly when sad children are on the telly, and voila! I'm your new Mother of the Nation.

Labour debate

Is anyone going to this?

Come and support Labour in the Wellington Region
for an evening of fun: a Celebrity Debate!

Thursday 4 May 2006

6.30pm, for a 7.00pm start

The Teams!

Labour MPs Radio Presenters

Lianne Dalziel David Slack

Darren Hughes Peter Harris

Maryan Street Bernard Beckett

The Chair/MC/Adjudicator!

Marian Hobbs, MP for Wellington Central

Culture

I'm back, after a full 2 days away from the internet. It wasn't too bad actually. And I suppose going online at the library in Martinborough means I only really spend one day away from the web. It was very mortifying have a picture of the Hoff and Mr Selleck appear on the screen in a very nice, elegant wee library. And they wouldn't sort of GO when I tried to navigate away from the page.

I've returned very very cultured, and I imagine you'll see the effects of it in this blog. I'll probably take to writing about literature and art, rather than the Hoff and ... what the hell else do I write about? Myself! I'll still write about myself, or I'd have to change the name of the blog to Arts and Letters or something.

We had a corker time. Bought some art, drank some wine, read a book, two Cuisines and all of the Saturday and Monday papers. That is what no internet will do for a person.

We ate some pretty fabulous chocolate at Schoc, and ate some pretty tremendous pastries at the French Baker, and tried on some boots that cost almost as much as our house. That was fun. The woman even thought I might actually buy them - hahahahhahahahha.

And now I'm back, and all set to start being a very cultured kind of person for the rest of my life, I'll begin just after I check the latest fug.

Hooray then chums

We're off to the country estate for a couple days to shoot small furry animals and ponder life (or eat and drink til ...... splode!).

There will be a large gang of evil people with alarms and knives looking after our home in our absence, not to mention a sabre tooth tiger called Julio.

Back on Tuesday, toodle-pip.

From

She with the haircut and renewed zest for life.

Tom Selleck vs The Hoff

Not so long ago Glen and I had a discussion about Tom Selleck and the Hoff, and who is/was more famous, who you'd do, and who'd beat the other in a battle.
Glen argued that Tom Selleck was just as big as the Hoff in Magnum PI days, and that I was just too young to know.
I argued that the Hoff has been around forever, and is basically just more popular overall.

Whaddaya reckon?

To be honest, it may be hard to think straight with your hormones all seething because of the sexy pictures I've posted. Try and rise above it people.

Imagine

Imagine if Angelina Jolie and Mick Jagger had babies. Entirely possible.

Hair today

I've been a bit quiet lately, on the blogging front. I haven't been able to work out why until now, and I put it down to hair. I haven't had a haircut for a few months, and a colour in an even longer time. I'm all sort of lacking in zest as a consequence.

I'm getting one on Saturday, and I expect there will be a veritable rampage of blogging after that. Not to mention appropriate use of italics.

I'm sort of the opposite of Samson, if you'd like to think of me in a biblical way - which I just know you do.

School reunion

Onslow College is having a reunion this year, Labour Weekend. I'm trying to round up all the cool kids to come and join me there.

And before you say it, it will only be naff IF PEOPLE DON'T GO. So let me know if you're keen.

Cher.

Baby Suri

Tom and Katie have had a girl named Suri.

I damn well hope that Katie was nice and quiet during the labour, otherwise some Xenus would come and Theton their Ron Hubbard arses.

Totally unrelated to wanting to travel extensively...

A friend was telling me about a free online house valuation service. It was called something like "whatismyhouseworth.com", but not that. Anyone know? I can't find it on google. It was on a billboard somewhere around town.

Vive la international travel! Et la franglaise - oui?

I've just made the first steps to booking a big exciting holiday to Europe. It won't be until next year probably, unless I can do some serious convincing in the interim... you never know.

I'd like to go via Americkky, and go to Disneyland. For the kids. Of course. Why would I want to go there? Oh thats right, because it is the happiest place on earth and has the best rides. But that is the only reason.

And then we'll tootle around Germany and France for a while, visiting family and coming to rest at my parent's house in France.

We probably need a reasonable sized lotto win to manage it, but otherwise I'm prepared to sell umm, some old shoes or something to get there.

Did they rock?

Hell no! Nickelback that is, they were a shit sandwich, or as I heard someone say on the way out "bunch of dreary fucking wankers".

But the Rolling Stones? They were marvellous. It was hellishly exciting. The stadium is such a cool venue. All the seats had a good view of the stage (although the band looked tiny, thank god for the big screen). The sound quality suffered a bit, I suspect through the wind.

They played all the hits I can think of. Sympathy for the Devil, Start Me Up, Honky Tonk Woman, Give me Shelter (this was AMAZING, they had this super foxy backup singer do the screamy cool bit, and she was hot), and they finished with Satisfaction. There were fireworks and great visuals.

The biggest surprise was when the middle part of the stage started moving, and came all the way forward to the halfway line at the stadium, right through the crowd.

We were sitting amongst a fairly representative section of the audience, meaning that I was the youngest by about two decades. Everyone was in good spirits, and man those oldies can drink.

Mick Jagger was just amazing. 62! You would never guess he was so old, he ran around for a full 2 hours, the guy is a dynamo.

And Keith lit up a fag, which everyone thought was deeply cool, and he warbled a couple of songs.

Ronny did some nice poses, and looked sort of unlikely.

Charlie looked like a sophisticated musician type (not surprisingly), and was a lot more handsome than the others with his snowy hair.

It was a really fun night.

Duathlon schmuathlon

That duathlon I did has ruined my legs. They're not working.

The benefits of this sports gig are a little hazy right now.

First!

I've done the duathlon and I came first!

Hahahahahhahahahhahahahhaha. You don't really know me at all eh? I didn't come anywhere near first, but the achievement is in the finishing. And the free powerade. And the digital watch you get that glows red and purple and green. And the very attractive free t shirt.

I'm so tired. Sportiness is TIRING. Why do people do it?

Wellington turned on the wind, can you imagine? So the fact I hadn't really learned how to change gears on my mother's bike became a bit of a hassle. Still, it was a pretty interesting experience, in a scientific fashion. For instance, did you know that sporty people aren't WOMEN. They're "ladies" and "girls". I'm not sure which criteria I fall into. On the one hand, I'm quite old, and have kids and so on, but on the other, I'm not very mature. In a good way.

Perhaps I'm buzzing right now on endorphins. Or maybe I've got 'roid rage. I like the sound of that.

RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Johnny Depp is unspeakably cool

We watched Charlie and the Chocolate Factory today. I love love loved it. It was hilarious, the way Willy Wonka ingnored Mike Teevee, the glass elevator.

Brilliant.

ET

I hate to be a pedant. Well, actually I love to be a pedant on the rare occasion that I know I'm right.

So why is TV3 advertising the 20th anniversary of ET? When they show the ads I think "man, if this is only 20 years old, it is deeply troubling that I was so extremely in love with Elliot" - he was mini! and 20 years ago I was pubescant.

So, for your relief, I didn't fancy someone that mini. The movie was released in 1982, when I was 10. There is no "20 year anniversary" about it. Thank god.

And once again, any poor grammar is due to booze.

Damn you tasty chardonnay ( I don't care if it is less fashionable than pinot gris, I like it, okay?).

Update: I have read and re-read this post, and while it is written terribly, I bet if you'd had as much as me to drink, you'd be loving it and gagging to say something inappropriate about Drew Barrymore.

When the cats away...

...or sitting on the internet, the little micies will play



It was one of those many moments of acting disapproving, then going out of the room to laugh hysterically.

This will also act as a public forum to "encourage" Glen to finish tiling the bath.

Waiting...

I have been waiting almost a whole life-time to be mature enough to wear high heel and carry a handbag.

So when is it going to happen? I did think that the end of my teens would signal a suitable marker for the ole high heel wearing palaver, but then my 20s coincided pretty neatly with gen x and grunge, so I didn't have to bother.

Then I thought I'd probably get to wear them when I got a job, and started earning the big bickies. For some reason I didn't earn the big bickies, and commuting and lots of standing didn't really suit the heels.

Weddings were the next big hope, but darn these modern young people, nobody gets bloody well married anymore.

So then I became a lady who lunches, but the company didn't appreciate the shoes and kept getting yoghurt and mashed veges on my fancy heels.

So when is it going to happen? When dammit?

Ha! Holidays

No more lectures for 2 weeks. I do enjoy my class a lot, but it is a very looooooong night. By 9pm everyone is pretty shattered.

Tonight on our break I had a gin and tonic. Sweet nectar of the gods - if the tonic were fizzy, and the lemon given a light squeeze. Nevermind, the fact that it was so illicit (taken in a class break) made it taste pretty good.

On re-reading that it sounded very very seedy. We go down to the cafe/bar for our break, so it wasn't in a hip flask or nuffin - although that would be cool and a little bit McGyver.

Now I'm having a nice cab sav (hot tip: on sale at Woolworths, Villa Maria Cellar Selection Cab Sav Merlot down from $24 to $13.99. Very bloody delicious).

I've just now realised that it is a holiday over Easter, and I'm pretty much free to enjoy it. I'll be sleeping as much as is socially acceptable.

Thanks for the mammaries

I hope everyone appreciates that my titles rarely mean anything, but in this case, everyone needs a bosom for a pillow.

My mind is a blur, because a) I'm bloody shagged and have a 4 hour class ahead of me tonight and b) DPF has said very nice things about me, which I'm very chuffed by, however all this traffic is landing at my blog, at a rate of knots, and, well, you know... SELFCONSCIOUS. (Hence liberal use of commas, because, the more, the merrier).

Would it be wrong to have a cocktail before my class to settle my nerves? Probably it wouldn't affect class too badly, but my driving may suffer.

Whewee

Last night I finished my essay. Unfortunately I couldn't fit the Hoff into the 1500 word limit. He is a big man, and requires a lot of wordage.

I'm not feeling as relieved as I thought I would. Probably because there are a couple of other projects I should be focusing on (namely Petone is full of jelly, and a small duathlon I haven't trained for in about 4 weeks).

eBay is proving to be a cheeky temptress. Trademe has a special charm when one is trying to sell some rubbish, but eBay is the mothership in terms of shopping.

See?

This is just to point out that I don't write anything if there is nothing to say.

Stalking

Today I went and stalked the foxy Roseneath mansion. I drove past ever so casually, and then walked with Malo ever so casually past, and then ever so casually walked past again - this time panting and puffing, as it is hilly and was hot and this Petone girl ain't used to the hills...

And the house was as foxy as I thought. And it still cost 3 times as much as we have.

However, it was very pleasant stalking.

I might stalk a house in Brooklyn next.

Mmm drugs

Are they paying more for people to test drugs now? I need an urgent cash injection for this.

360m2! We could play golf in it.

Shhhh...

Secret!

I've been very quiet about a date I have next week. I haven't really told any of my friends... we're going to the Rolling Stones...

And then a friend admitted to me they're going - and it turns out there are at least half a dozen of us going to be there.

Rock on baby.

What has prompted this admission? They're playing the Rolling Stones on C4, and it is bloody marvellous.

I'm getting excited.

Anyone else care to share?

Wow! Awesome!

So the most awesome blog in the world has a new team member.

(Whoop whoop! Raising the roof!)

Now we just need some content.

At least I've got someone on board who can write and do clever things. Yay Sarah. Oh, and she can crochet. I can crochet too. It is a dying art.

We are modern women who can crochet. What are the chances eh?

Bunch of pretty boys (and girls)

Just thought I'd see what happens...


Can't believe you bastards didn't elect me for best shopping website. I'm so good at shopping, I do it at least once a week.

My own husband didn't even vote for me.

But well done Public Address, you're very deserving. Lets not pretend you got in on brains though, looks go a loooong way in this business.

Thank god

Before I started this, I knew the universe wouldn't be right if I didn't get Miss Piggy.

You Are Miss Piggy

A total princess and diva, you're totally in charge - even if people don't know it. You want to be loved, adored, and worshiped. And you won't settle for anything less. You're going to be a total star, and you won't let any of the "little people" get in your way. Just remember, piggy, never eat more than you can lift!

The Muppet Personality Test

Thanks Em.

Presentation

I had a presentation for my course last night. I was very tired, for child-related reasons. I had more or less given up caring, just eager to get the thing over and done with.

Which is good. Because if I'd cared I wouldn't have been very happy with my performance. Everyone in the class has turned out to be frickin geniiuses (new word to cover all the plural bases).

Instead I worked for laughs. A joker if you will, destined to walk lifes highway playing for larfs, but crying on the inside.

Except I'm not crying on the inside, I'm actually jolly well laughing. Especially since I managed to fit the Hoff into my presentation, and judging by the class feedback, everyone seemed to appreciate the Hoff a lot more my theoretical thinking.

Dream job!

I've found it! I'm going to become an expert at being in focus groups for ad agencies. I did my first today, and what could be more perfect?

You get to talk about yourself THE WHOLE TIME.

You get to be totally opinionated THE WHOLE TIME.

You get to drink booze and eat yummy stuff.

You get a voucher to go shopping.

Man. I just need to do about 8 of these things a week, and life would be pretty much perfect. Not to mention the fact I'd fix the advertising market and have every consumerable marketed to my precise needs.

Hallelujah.

A rainy day story

Glen and the Paul the builder took out the window.



And for a while we had great indoor outdoor flow.


(you're wondering how we could give up the view eh?)

But then a wall was built, which was great until a big silver snake came through it and ate Malo.

Petone!

Petone...
Petone...
Petone, FUCK YEAH!
Coming again, to save the mother fucking day yeah,
Petone, FUCK YEAH!
Freedom is the only way yeah,
Terrorist your game is through cause now you have to answer too,
Petone, FUCK YEAH!

I've started this, like, very exclusive blog. You're all invited to join though, even though it is very very exclusive.

So if you live in, would like to live in, or have ever lived in the HUTT, please join my club.

Whiskey o'clock

Yarrrriiiiba. What a day.

We've used our 10gigs, and we're now churning through additional ones at $2.95 a piece. I don't mind, the novelty thrills me.

And the window is gone. Now we have some wall where before we had view of the neighbours venetians.

And I've been procrastinating a lot about some school work I shouldn't have been procrastinating about, but now I think it is done. I love powerpoint, and hopefully nobody will mind the trashy pictures I've put on it for their enjoyment (yes, I have another presentation to do - and another 3 more in the next 6 weeks + 2 essays... sigh).

Fisherman's Table

Russell Crowe played Wellington last night. Sadly I missed what would surely have been a memorable occasion.

Apparently he had dinner at the Fisherman's Table. For you international folk this is like, well, eating somewhere that calls itself the Fisherman's Table. Basket o' battered fish and chips and icecream and fruit salad. I wonder if someone recommended it to Russell.

The photo is a tribute to Russell, may he enjoy his chosen home.

Apropos the Office

I just wanted to use the word "apropos" really.

And I watched an episode from the US version of The Office. It was terrific, no less good than the british version.

Apropos, bye.

Bit Torrent

I've finally worked out how to use the ole Bit Torrent thing. I'm pretty amazed and impressed. What I need now is some recommendations of interesting viewing, as I haven't really got my finger on the pulse of the international viewing market.

Please tell me what you've enjoyed. Or think I would enjoy.

Then as the website suggests, I'll buy some legitimate scratched copies and have to find back ups for them (ahem).