Great beer drinking debate

I went out last night to this Karajoz Great Debate thing.

I'm now a bit jaded, you might say. Therefore I'll be writing in a new easy to follow format of questions and answers. Feel free to chip in.

Did Sam Morgan use the word obfuscate in a sentence?
Yes.

Was Sam Morgan hot?
Actually surprisingly yes.

Was Kim Hill there, making you a bit starstruck?
She was!

How many beers?
Too many to count really.

How many bloggers?
Too many to count really.

Did you insist on calling Mark Cubey Mark Cubey, rather than just Mark?
Yes

I'll add to this throughout the day.

Strange things are afoot at the Circle K

I'm going out tonight. That makes it 3 times this week. That represents a significant return to habits of yore.

I'm going to the Karajoz Great Debate thing at The Boatshed. I saw a clip on Campbell last night with the woman who is a Myspace (well a internet community) expert. I was all scathing and seeing it all as being about youf and all that.

But dammit, blogging? I am obviously at heart a 12 year old. I don't write much about politics (and I do happen to know a fair amount about that particular subject), I don't write much about anything serious really. So dude, I'm totally part of the whatever generation it is now. I've taken all my Gen X genes and morphed them into Genwhatever. I am the future baby.

Fucking awesome (I'm allowed to swear at the moment because my father is overseas)

We've been in this house for just over 3 years. When we moved here it had an exciting pink and ginger colour-scheme, with accents of gold and faux greenstone.

All the ceilings had been lowered, to give this 1920s house that modern feel of the 1980s. A low concrete block wall allowed a pleasing view of the street (and no bugger could see in with the cunningness that is net curtains).

The back yard was a low maintenance dreamscape. Concrete eliminating the need for a lawnmower. A glass conservatory on the back of the house provided some much needed indoor outdoor flow, albeit from the toilet.

And now, finally, we have almost purged the horror. Glen is applying the tiles to the end of the bath (2 years after the rest of the bathroom was tiled). All the ceilings have been raised and repaired, the backyard has been restored to lawn and (horror!) trees.

And I never want to leave. I love a finished house, and will (may) never (in the immediate future) undertake such an extensive project again.

The funniest thing? When we bought the house we had a renovation budget of 12k. Hahahahahhahahahhahahhahahahhahahaha.

You live and learn.

Avoid

Please try to avoid putting an almond and some cheese in your mouth at the same time.


Bleeeeeuuuuurch

Go Fug

Go Fug Yourself is having an Aaron Spelling special. Aaron has died apparently.

If you ever watched Beverley Hills 90210, please read this. I laughed out loud.

Stitch and bitch - the second coming

Triumphant! I knew we could make it, and we did.

Last night stitch and bitch had an excellent turn-out, and what I think was a pretty great venue. There were plenty of people from the real world, and a couple from the blog one.

It was relaxing and pleasant, and people made clever things. I, on the other hand, just knitted for the sake of knitting. And drank wine for the sake of drinking wine.

Grand.

It will be on Tuesday nights from now on, next meeting up on the 11th July.

The most scintillating thing you will ever see

Today is action central around here. I made a bit of my wardrobe look like a shop, or a celebrity's wardrobe from on the E! channel.

Except this is pretty much all my clothes. Celebrities seem to have more.

And since nobody has mentioned it, well done Lorraine and Aaron. Good work and all that.

God, I got so bored writing that, I'm almost asleep. I hope you are too now.

The magic of jelly

Ha! People questioned the name of my blog Petone is Full of Jelly, but the selection of name foretold the coming of the Magic Jelly. Magic Jelly is in fact the name of the fabulous Etsy store where I purchased my beautiful new banner (I would love to take credit for it, sadly being clever on the computer is not one of my strengths). Long reign the Jelly.

Karena, who is the talent behind Magic Jelly, has been tirelessly helping me with my banner. Which is great, because left to me it was looking very very blurry, and not delectable and chocolatey.

Now I want some of her art. I foolishly resolved to try not to buy any art for the rest of the year, but in my experience these resolutions are generally forgotten in less than a week.

Go on, check her out. She rocks.

Wanda's makeover

New weekend, new look. Obviously a work in progress, but I quite like it. I was never particularly impressed with the old one, especially the fact that every time I tried to change something Internet Explorer would go ballistic.

I'm going for the glam starlet look, as I feel it reflects my inner beauty and vacuousness (or vacuoscuity or vacuousysousyness).

[Contains Potentially Offensive Language]

BHME

Hooters!

(Just testing)

Benny Hill music

When I'm writing for this blog, I need lots of those little emoticons so that people know that when I say " Hello Everybody!" it needs to be in a Dr Nick voice, or "Erggggh" should be in a Homer voice.

I'm going to use a new one from now on too, I think it will add some texture to reading Wanda Harland - the Benny Hill Music Experience.

Any double entendres or mention of hooters will be worthy of the BHME. I just need to establish how to convey it.

Baby talk

For a couple of weeks, Malo has spent nights climbing out of his cot almost on the hour. He did sleep through til 5.20am yesterday, and I felt like I'd had a month of sleep. However last night he was at it again.

Apart from it being a draining pain in the arse, it is actually a bit cute too. He still uses dummies, and has 3 of them - one for his mouth and one for each hand. Dummies have a very melodic clanking sound, and as he comes hurtling down the hallway with his crazy toddler run, you can hear him coming.

When he appears in the bedroom you would swear a little morris dancer has arrived. Which is all I ever wanted really.

Christ, busy

Man, hectic life at the moment. You know, reclining on the new couch and all.

I wish.

My every wakeful moment at night is spent thinking up witty things to write, and my every hour during the day is spent not writing it.

And now I have to go and paint the kitchen floor.

Seriously.

Home again home again jiggity jig

There is nothing quite like coming home to a builder just finishing off plastering a hallway and bedroom that have been all crappy and woody and exposed for three years. Nor is there anything like writing really long sentences to make up for lack of writing for two days.

Waikanae was fabulous. Better than I could've imagined actually. I had this vague idea it would be pleasant, easy to get to, and by the sea. In fact the place we were staying was splendid

I loved the clock on the stove. The view was okay too...

and as you can see, we got very lucky with the weather. For the shortest day of the year, pretty darned amazing.
The sunset was lovely

And if you click on the picture, and make it very big, you'll be able to see Taranaki. Children appreciate volcanoes being pointed out to them, and you may too.

One tiny downer was the worst coffee I have ever had in my life. A cafe selling Supreme should not be selling hot dishwater. Nothing could dampen my spirits though, and a remarkably good coffee and SPLENDID cake at Lindale made everything better.

And now home. On my new seating.

And I've passed my course. What a relief.

Mutter mutter

Goddamn Dancing with the Stars. I was very good at not caring about it, and it just crept up on me.

I'm very pleased that Beatrice is still in. Not because she is so graceful blah blah blah, but because she has the best partner. Brian is gorgeous. Krystal couldn't help herself rubbing Rodney's head, imagine what she'd be like with Brian.

I definitely won't be watching next week. No no no. Candy and Brendan are dancing, and frankly that is just about the most perverse porn I can imagine.

And really, I am off on holiday, really. No more writing. Promise.

Holiday olli olli day ay ay ay

Tomorrow I'm off to Waikanae for a few days. Please chat amongst yourselves while I'm away.

Here are some topics to get you started:

1. Why is K Fed doing music when he started out as a dancer?
2. Use "apropos" in a sentence.
3. Discuss your dream car. Think Homermobile.
4. Write up your favourite recipe.
5. Review your favourite movie in exactly 10 words.
6. Complete the following sentence "I shop therefore I...."

See you on Wednesday.

Qoop

It has been quite a shopping day. I can't really go into it without sounding shallow. Some people don't have the same respect for shopping as I do.

All I will say is that we will be far better seated, and our clothes will be far better housed. And possibly when they're delivered I won't be able to resist sharing.

And the postie delivered a photo album I ordered from Qoop. It is fantastic. I ordered a couple of hundred photos from my flickr account to be bound into a birthday album. I think compared with having the photos developed it is really economical, and I was well pleased with the quality.

Now we're going to hide in our house for a couple of years until we've paid off our purchases.

Holy pissing down rain Batman

In all my years, I have never seen rain like it. Almost horizontal, and just bloody pissing down. And the lightning and thunder! Well, by my fool-proof methodology learned as an 8 year old, we're about 7 metres from the heart of the lightning (which, as you well know, would turn us into ZOMBIES).

It is touch and go here folks as to whether we'll make it, or become the undead.

Disclaimer: the picture doesn't even half show the vehement vengeance of the awesome fierceness that is the rain (can you tell I'm trying for a weather reader job on the telly?).

And no, we haven't got enough time to mow the lawn. We are very busy and important.

They're playing with us

Ha! The joke is up.

For a minute I actually believed someone would pay over 20k for a crappy handbag, and $1200 for a bikini from some plasticked blond. But a frenzy over Shiloh's t shirt?

Really. Enough.

New Zealander of the Year

David Slack has asked for the New Zealander of the Year. I've been trying to bloody come up with someone for the last 24 hours. I came up with a few people who have pissed me off, but not many who have achieved great things.

For instance, Mark Inglis climbed Everest. He has received some flack, which I won't go into. I can't give him any credit for climbing though, because I think climbing Everest is dumb. I'm pleased Sir Ed did it, and beyond that it has been totally unnecessary. Climb a damn mountain? When your babies are at home? So he doesn't get my vote.

Peter Dunne made quite a mark for himself being a dick. Hardly New Zealander of the year material though.

Michael Ryan and the Tar Babies made a nice job of making the news exciting for about a minute.

Some people danced, but yawn, they didn't really change anyones life.

I'd give it to Donna Awatere Huata. She took justice by the balls, and managed a new hair do before her release from jail. That has to be worth something.

And that is all I can come up with.

Sorry David, I imagine someone else will do better.

Blind date

Good grief, blog world met real world today.

I hooked up with the fellas and felless (which sounds like a gooood new word) for a spot of lunch in town. I was quite nervous actually, it is odd to meet people I read about everyday, and who probably know more about me than many of my friends.

Unfortunately, due to Glen's work commitments (psychological profiling - you don't want to mess those guys around) I could only pay a fleeting visit, and have a very quick beer. Jo has written it up in much more detail than I can be arsed with. It is fair to say, the Wellingtonista crew are probably about 400% more goodlooking than you could imagine in your wildest dreams.

I've suggested one of those nude calendars as a fundraiser, and I suspect it would be a big seller.

Update: I just realised it sounds like Glen is a psychological profiler, he isn't. He was being analysed. I hate those bloody work profile things, it makes your boss think they know you better than they do.

Addicted

We've got a taste for the builder, and we just can't shake it.

After years of sacrificing all our spare time to home renovations, we discovered this marvellous builder fella.

He is coming again on Monday, and I'm going to go away for a holiday. A mini-break if you will. I'm thinking Waikanae. I know that sounds more like a commute than a holiday, but that is the beauty of it, no long car trip.

I just need to rent me a bach.

Stitch and bitch - the aftermath

In short - it rocked. It was like one of those American movies where everyone is in shorty pyjamas and drinking bourbon and cokes, and someone accidentally bonks someone over the head with a pillow, and then the feathers start flying and...

Oh hang on, that was something else.

Seriously, Stitch and Bitch was a blast. Fantastic company, and a truly great example of how good women are at multi-tasking. We stitched, we bitched and also we solved global warming, world hunger, several dichotomies and some quandaries.

The Editter came, she was very lovely. She obviously has a very good memory, so will hopefully give a bit more detail about the evening. I don't have memory, just beer. I can tell you this, she doesn't wear one of those editor hats and carry a pencil. Of course it turned out that everyone basically knew everyone either directly or with one degree of separation. That is Wellington for you.

There were lots of people who couldn't make it because of foul lurgies and crappy weather. I think in the future it will be a substantially larger event.

It was a really lovely evening. And productive. Next time I'm going to try and make something a bit more exciting than a scarf.

Oh, mens are welcome to come too. You know, with your hammers and spanners. Seriously, come and knit or embroider or fimo or write or draw or wear shorty pyjamas and carry a pillow.

Buuuurn

Wellingtonista has unearthed some photos of me, and has politely requested I stay 500m from Wellingtonista Towers.

I really can't see the problem.

Wellingtonista

Yay, I've been invited to join the fine crew at the Wellingtonista.

I'm expecting my expense account to arrive any minute, and it'll be schmooze central around here.

Rain rain go away

Actually, I feeling as snug as a bug in a rug. Nice warm house. Watching tradesmen get saturated at the neighbours.

Very smug about doing an online grocery shop last night. I may never leave the house again.

Big Love

Yippee, according to Fiona Rae, Big Love is going to be screening here in the next couple of months.

My mission to appear in the society pages has been taken up a notch.

For starters, I left the house.

And now I'm going to instigate the 'dress like a celebrity rule', and never leave home without sunglasses on.

In fact I think I'll wear them inside too.

Stitch and bitch forever

Laydeees and gennelmen, it is finally time to hook up and hook a rug.

First time stitch and bitch tomorrow. We'll have the first meeting at my house, so if you're a stalker this is an excellent opportunity to case my pad.

We're going to get a venue for the future, and Petone Plunket looks like it, but we need them to draw up a contract first.

All welcome. Feel free to bring food and wine.

You'll need to email me for the address, I'm not completely insane.

My email is wandaharland at gmail

Baby has grown

My baby has climbed out of his cot -oh, about 10 times today. This means it is time to get him a bed, which means he is no longer a baby. I'm feeling no great urge to get pregnant, so that is a positive sign. I liked having a baby in the house, they're funny. But big kids are funny too, so I'll manage.

Big weekend again. Kids party tomorrow, then drinks with the fabulous Tinks and his lovely wife. Please blitz Tinks' blog as he is on a hit roll...

Then dinner and some game with a haka and throat slitting.

I don't know what next, hand bags, spear tackles, throat slitting. I guess logically the Apocalypse?

Free agent...

...in the not being a student sense.

So today I was excited to be free, and you know, relishing my freedom and all that. Except it turns out that study gives you a certain amount of freedom to put things off (like housework, and hemming curtains, and high dusting and personal hygiene...).

None of which I've done. I did get a book out of the library though, and started to knit a scarf. And had some wine with dinner (yes, we are very uncool and eat at 5pm).

I'm sure I'll feel really keen to do the high dusting tomorrow.

Polygamy

Since watching Big Love I've been a bit fascinated by polygamy. I'm having trouble seeing what the problem is.

I appreciate that a large proportion of polygamists are dirty pedophiles and won't let women go to work and have basic freedoms. These are surely quite different crimes from marrying two people though.

I could definitely handle another wife about the house. She would be welcome to stay at home with the kids if she liked, or go to work and bring home some bacon. I really don't mind either way. She'd double the wardrobe too.

Done McDonesky

From the Clan McDonesky.

Over rover. Glass of wine in hand (a generous gift from a fellow student for car services rendered). Actually very nice wine indeed. Te Kairanga Chardonnay if you're interested.

And now I have no more classes. Yippee.

And somewhat unbelievably, my stupid exide presentation will live forever as a model answer. Seems I have a better handle on battery factory's public relations than i could ever imagine. Go figure.

Cultural experience - Soup Ray!

Happily there is a Supre (it should have an ecoute, or a grave - I don't know how to do them, or what the correct term is. School Cert French hasn't helped me much in life) opening in the Hutt. I saw the evidence today at the *cough* mall. A brigade of young women with long long blond hair, and short short skirts, and tight tight jeans.

Seriously, if you haven't done so already, you should take a stroll through a Supre store. Duh, not for the clothes silly! But for the loud loud pop music, and the trippy trippy colour.

It is a little bit like a migraine, it is also a little bit like a disco. You'll come out feeling better off, or throwing up. I almost guarantee it.

Spot the difference

One of these is my father, and one is my son. Can you tell which is which?

New friend

Since I can't have a beer, I had a coffee.

This is QUITE EMBARRASSING, but until this afternoon we only had the crappy plastic tamper that came with our coffee machine.

Now we have this (celestial *ding* sound)



It is the sweetest tool I have ever bought. I'm a little bit in love.

Or over-caffeinated. Similar nauseous sensation.

Beer o'clock

Maybe it is because I can't touch a drink, but my body is screaming out for a beer. We've got 2 kinds in the fridge, and wine. If I have a beer I'll have to have 4 though. It is that kind of feeling. The feeling you only get the day before the essay has to be handed in. Every other day you can have a beer and flag the essay, because there is always the day before the assignment is due. Which means today is the only day I can't have my beer.

I'm cursing Yesterday Martha for not taking the opportunity to have a beer then (although Yesterday Martha had a few glasses of bubbly over the course of the day). Today Martha is thirsty. Tomorrow Martha will most likely be drunk. I can't wait to be Tomorrow Martha.

And watch out weekend. Plans are afoot, and I ain't holding back.

Procratinating part 23094

Once again, procrastinating. Working on the theory that typing on the computer looks like doing my essay, so if the gods of study are watching, they'll be fooled into thinking I'm doing a really good job.

And I'm just 10 hits off 30k.

Hit me baby one more time.

Big Love

I've had some friends from America send over Big Love. If you have some friends in America, why don't you get them to send you Big Love too?

It is very good. It is a series about polygamists in Utah. It is cinematic and excellent, and about 28 million times more interesting than Wisteria Lane.

It isn't really drama, and certainly isn't comedy. But it is dramatic, and funny. What do you call shows like that? Like Sopranos?

Happy pretend birthday Queenie!

I might have a pretend birthday next Monday.

I'll be bestowing honours, and gifts will help in my decision making process.

WHBE - Wanda Harland Bloody Excellent award
WHOK - Wanda Harland OK award
WHA - Wanda Harland Average award
WHMDB - Wanda Harland Must Do Better award

Crazy kids

This was Finn's pick of toys from the Toy Library yesterday.

Uh huh, I disabled parking sign. We can't even use it.

Although they tried.

Handbag

We went out for coffee this morning. Nice treat for a Saturday. As we tried to stop the children from eating butter off the knife, Tana Umaga came in for a coffee.

I nudged my handbag in his direction, hoping he wouldn't be able to resist whacking the shit out of someone with it, but sadly he didn't take the bait.

So I'm 21k poorer than I might have been.

Although I actually have a lotto ticket tonight, so hopefully the situation is shortlived.

Man Bank

I can't remember if I have written about this before. So I'll write again.

My friend Angela has started the Man Bank with her friend Jane. It is a very cool concept, and she was interviewed on Saturday by Kim Hill.

If you're single you should hook up with them. They rock. And if you don't live in Wellington, you should look at opening a Man Bank Franchise. The possibilities are limitless.

Ummm

Help. Does anyone know what is wrong with my blog?

Update! Looks like I fixed it by cunningly clicking the refresh key several times.

Honestly, if anyone is ever troubled by a technical problem, you know who to ask.

Or I can tell you now:

• Computer is a bit funny - defrag, then crash close it, then get Emily to fix it. You'll lose everything you hold dear, but it will stop your computer being funny.
• Internet won't connect - unplug everything. Plug it in again.
• Blog looks all mental - hit refresh. Elbow must be at 45 degrees, and your tongue has to poke out a little.

Thanks to Mr Llew, Mr Slack, and Ms Oy Vey for pointing out my sad status. I could have been missing all those hits that will eventually get me to the big three-oh.

Buggy

When you have $600 in your hot little hand from selling a buggy, there really is no reason not to get takeaways for tea, aye? And wine. And chocolate. And a hooker.

Jokes! I just say that sort of thing so my father can't show my blog to anyone he knows.

Incidentally, in my class last night everyone was going on about how lame blogs are. Which means blogs are icy cool, so cool they're flying below the radar. Cutting edge baby, cutting edge.

Obviously I'm a semi-secret blogger, bloggers know who I am, but the rest of the world is oblivious.

I do hate the word 'blog'. A better name would be Schnitzenwaffle, that is something you could be proud of owning.