Teeths

On Saturday we went to some friends house for about the most delicious meal one could ever hope for.

Mmmmmmmm.

Give me a moment while I remember it


mmmmmmmmmmmmmm

all sorts of goodness including asparagus with yuuuuummmmy anchovies, and lamb, and vege tart and olives and lentils yummmm all with a hearty chaser of mandarin tart. Don't even get me started on the wines. Delicious. Sileni sticky, Villa Maria Pinot (2003 I believe).

We were joined by very goodlooking and talented people, one of whom is my dentist. I haven't seen him on a professional level since 5 years ago. I'm busy people! I've had babies, and you know, been busy. I told him that I had a new theory about teeth which involves going to see him when they hurt. He told me I'd need a root canal.

Just quietly, in my own head, I smugly thought about all that good fluoride I'd had as a child to make my teeth strong and white.

But now my teeth are hurting.

And actually, I grew up in Christchurch where there is no damn fluoride in the damn water.

Foiled.

Vanished...

My website has vanished from Google. I don't understand it. For ages I was third in the listings, and now if you Google 'Babylicious' I'm nowhere to be seen.

What have I done to upset them? I even obligingly give them money every month for a paid spot.

Parenting

I must be a good parent.

I just had to give up the vase of my dreams, bargain of the century on Trademe, because Malo was crying in the backyard, and by the time I got back the auction had finished.

This is what they mean when they talk about sacrifice. Some might think people are referring to lack of social life, figure and career. What it really means is that YOU WON'T BE ABLE TO BUY THE VASE OF YOUR DREAMS.

If anyone has a white, ribbed, handpotted, 18cm Crown Lynn vase about the place, please let me give you some money for it. I need one.

Yes, I'm shallow. I don't give a shit though, so best not to point it out eh?

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Blogmosis

Definition: willing things to happen by blog.

From Popbitch

Poor [Paul McCartney]. Divorcing a one-legged prostitute
who accuses him of wife-beating and he's still
the boring one out of Lennon and McCartney.

Spring is here

and alas, so are the weeds.

In winter you can ignore weeds, because all you're doing is running past them on your way to the car. By spring they're tappin' you on the shoulder to say "hola".

Under normal circumstances I would wait until a sunny day and some free time to attend to the buggers. They can't be ignored at the moment though, because we're practically getting a royal visit next week.

We live on a block where the first Workingmen's Cottages were built. This year they are 100 years old, making them the oldest in the country. Consequently, a big shindig is planned next week. The roads are being closed, there will be numerous fascinating speeches, I'm hoping for some dainty cakes, and the PM herself is due to speak.

You can see why I had to weed the garden. I'd hate to incur the wrath and derision of the PM.

I'd hate more to incur the wrath of the people that organise street parties to celebrate 100 years of state housing.

You're number 1!

Yes you are.

Well, I daresay you were at one stage.

I'm curious to know what dubious achievements you've made. Things that seemed very important at the time (you touched a Van Gogh), and in hindsight kind of see a bit lame (you got a photo of Gary Barlow from Take That). I'm after the things that you thought you might tell everyone (like you asked Martin Henderson for a light at The Box), and then found you didn't tell anyone (like you got one of those free $2 Telecom phonecards at Sesqui (sp?)).

Go on, knock everyone out with your dubious achievements. It is Dubious Achievement Day. In fact, it is Dubious Achievement Weekend.

New banner

Thanks to the lovely Kate, I have a lovely new banner.

Go and say happy birthday to her would ya?

I love it. I love that it doesn't really reflect that I'm an exhausted screenprinting crazy lady from Petone, and implies that I'm a hot patootie with nothing better to do than give you the glad eye.

That was short-lived

My relaxation has officially ceased. Lovely order for 90 shirts has just arrived.

Beeeeeeeige

To reflect my mellow mood I've gone beige. This also reflects every surface in our house, although resene would never be so tacky to admit it is 'beige'. Perhaps we'll call it 'sisal'.

I'm ready for a new banner too. I have no idea how that will happen though. If anyone is feeling nifty, please make me one, and I'll print you a t shirt.

Hectic is over!

Suddenly life seems to have settled down slightly. Thank all the gods and demons and vampire slayers.

For the first time in about 4 months I have managed to clean the kitchen and made some dinner. We have been BIG supporters of the new Fish Boys fush n chup shop on Jackson St lately. I heartily recommend them, they're the nicest greasies I've ever had, and strangely addictive. They're down at the desirable eastern end of Petone (I think it is the Mongrel Mob and council flats that really make it).

Of course the sun helps. The children can run around outside, only coming in to have bloody noses wiped and skinned knees tended. I don't think I can do another winter. All that time inside was pretty tough.

And I'm not frightenly busy, which is just grand. I'm not cut out for being a business tycoon, I enjoy my leisure time too much.

Inconceivable!

Days like today I am very pleased I splurged $14.99 on the Princess Bride dvd.

It is pissing it down outside, but I'm tucked up on the couch with Finn watching my dvd and eating cake.

Simple pleasures people.

White

It has been a big Labour weekend here in NZ. I'm looking forward to wearing white from now on, although I don't really have any. I'll have to get some. Does that white after Labour Day actually work for NZ?

It has been a large weekend, tainted somewhat by the hangover that hangs over. I participated in a fairly unremarkable fair thing in Lower Hutt on Sunday and Monday. Hardly anyone came, they bought nothing, and we had to listen to BJ Bear talk about the League to the kiddies. Argh.

Craftwerk today was like a homecoming. We got the internet buddy corner (ie. where all the cool cats were). I was next to Dairne, opposite Rachelle, within cooeee of Sue, and if I'd swung a cat I could've made contact with Melissa and Rhiannon. We had a splendid time. All the public were lovely, generous of spirit and of pocket.

I don't know who the band were, and can't quite be arsed finding out at this minute, but they were fab. The Southern Cross is barely recognisable as its former self. It is stylish, spacious, classy and has an amazing garden bar. The loos look eerily similar to their former selves, but apart from that the place is transformed. They've even got rid of the public bar.

I feel like this is the first night "off" I've had for ages, so I'm plonked in bed at a nice early hour and I'm going to try and churn through my not very enjoyable book (yet). I'm sure it will improve once I have the time to give it.

Going back to school

It seems that when I set foot on school grounds, I become 14. Which means my tolerance for alcohol is that of a total amateur, and I make a scene and have to be carried out.

Sigh.

Up to that point the school reunion was fabulous. So many stunning people, so much love for the old school.

If I'm not banned, I'm looking forward to the next reunion.

High School Reunion

Tonight I'm heading to the Onslow College for a school reunion. As far as I can tell there won't be many people from my year. I was speculating with my inner voice whether or not there were any famous Onslow alumni. My inner voice surprised me with quite a few - none of whom I imagine will be there.

The Holidaymakers came from Onslow. The middle aged amongst you will remember "Sweet Lovers" - a hit that stormed the charts in the 80s. In fact, they played it twice at our school ball. I don't know whether this was due to their limited repertoire, or our insatiable teenage desire to hear hits.

Jeremy Coney went to Onslow too. And Jamie Belich. Taika Cohen (Oscar nominee) is an Onslow old boy. Quite a few musicians also - HLAh, Shihad and Cassette all show firm influences from their formative years spent smoking dope at the skate bowl.

The young bloke who scored Ian McKellen was from Onslow also. And our maths teacher used to be on the telly. Speaking of telly, Alistair Wilkinson who reads the news on TV3 was in my theatresports team. We didn't so much theatresport as get a room to sit around in and discuss getting t shirts printed. On my theatresports team was esteemed local artist Sam Broad. He is going to be my date tonight. Uber famous local actor Peter Rutherford is also an old boy, and also part of my dating circle. Ms Hubris is a former Onslowite, but I think too young to be feeling the nostalgia that has gripped my particular crew. We'll see her at the 60th anniversary I reckon.

Who have I missed? I have many former classmates who I'm particularly proud of. My intrepid friend Joanna who has been straightening out Afghanistan for a ridiculously long time springs to mind.

Who knows who will come out of the woodwork, but I'm looking forward to it a great deal.

So, who went to your school?

Home again

Here I am, sitting in sunny - yet cold - Petone. It is very nice to be here, helped a great deal by the new skylight in our kitchen, which makes the place so beautiful I can barely express my joy. Now I want skylights in all the rooms, and trips to the Sunshine Coast while they're installed.

Lessons learned on holiday:

• Don't catch the 6am flight with children. You will be up ridiculously early, and then arrive in Austalia at 7am, ready for a very, very long day. One child may even develop a dramatic temperature, which will get you through customs in only 2 hours. It isn't worth it though.
• Don't hire a cheap car. It will be older than you, not have central locking, and make you look like a bogan.
• Don't listen to ginger ponytailed Australians talk about snakes and spiders, and how they live in your ceilings and shoes and live in the water and bite you TO DEATH - until you leave the country. This kind of discussion upon arrival could seriously limit your relaxation.
• Speaking of relaxation - travel with small children doesn't involve relaxation. Accept this early, and just go for it and enjoy Dreamworld.
• Crows are probably Satan.

I don't want to sound negative, because we had probably the best holiday ever. It was warm, warm and warm. We got lots of handy household items from Ikea, and then enjoyed parks, beaches and pools like they're going out of fashion.

And now I'm going to look at the sky, through my skylight. It doesn't get better than that.

Maaaate

Sitting here in Noosa. It is very warm and lovely, and there are a million people walking around in their bathers. Nicey nice.

2 minutes more time on this connection.

Um. Hello. Back soon.

Mwah.

Boy: I'm frightened father. Why is the water so blue? The sand so golden? My tummy so full of icecream?

Where is the wind and snow?

Father: Don't worry my son, we will return to the snow and wind in just 5 days.

Boy: And the bananas?

Father: Yes son, and the bananas.

Bananarama

Bananarama, originally uploaded by Wanda Harland.

Australia is fabulous. The supermarkets here are a triumph of international cuisine.

As long as bananas cost as much as a deposit on a house though, I won't be moving here.

Strewth.

Crikey cobber

We're here! And by some trickery and witchcraft, my laptop is working just like at home. Very odd.

We had a tres early start - up at 3.30am. It was fair dinkum dark as a dingo's bits. Everything was reasonably straightforward at the airport, although you forget how many little pieces of paper they make you fill in.

The plane was ace. Big ups to Andrea and Blondgirl and Man-of-indeterminate-sexuality who were our flight attendents. At Brisbane airport our wee boy got very hot and lethargic, which meant we managed to skip through much of the hideous queues.

We got collected by our rental company van by a very Australian fella with a ginger ponytail. Our supreme vehicle at a bargain rate is a 1993 Mitsubishi Magna, which has seen better days. You get what you pay for I suppose.

Thanks to our tipsy selves for booking a fabbo apartment in Toowag. It rocks. It is almost as big as the house, and despite a severe drought (worst in 100 years I'm told), and no hoses allowed, it has 2 terrific pools.

It feels kind of like dinner time, but is in fact only early afternoon. We've managed to buy lots of cool things at Ikea already, in a bit of a flying visit. Finn is enjoying his train set ($18.95! Fits the Thomas set!), and his igloo and no end of other bargain beauties. We're off to see a bit of culture later. Don't know what, maybe a water taxi or a XXXX beer factory.

You bewdy.

Further update on police drama

Although obviously it isn't a drama.

Turns out the youfs stole someone else's scooter, so the coppers are heading around this afternoon as it is slightly more serious than just trying to take one when one actually goes.

Our place looks like we've just helped ourselves to someone's home, as we've cleared out the kitchen in anticipation of the builder arriving on Wednesday. There is a choice selection of appliances arrayed across the table. That's my story and I'm sticking to it - no way related to any planned splurges while we're away (the kids get 20kg luggage allowance too...)

And fingers crossed that Malo's dreadful lurgy buggers off in time to let him enjoy our holiday. Wiggles World won't be the same with a lethargic 2 year old.

And while I'm in the mood for blogging...

Our plane leaves for Brisbane at 6.20am. We have to be there 2 hours before departure. I think tonight might be my last decent nights sleep for a while.

I don't know why I'm doing such scintillating blogging. I think it is because Glen seems to have discovered the computer, and I spend a lot of time with laptop envy while he tip taps away, so now I'm trying to a. get the most out of it, and b. give him a hearty dose of laptop envy.

He is working on CSS thingies for babylicious, so I can't really begrudge him trying to build snazzy menu bars. They should all be up and running in a couple of weeks, making us more irresistable than ever before.

Update

They're still not here.

Can't believe we're not the cops number one priority. What do you have to do? Actually get something taken?

I guess it has only been 7 minutes.

Police 10-7

Hi drama in the city of Petone. I just heard some banging, and muted the telly (which was crap anyway - what has become of telly? But I digress) and Glen went outside, and his scooter was lying next against the house, and he looked on the street and some youths ran away.

I got on the blower to the police pretty quickly, but I suppose since they didn't actually take it, it won't do much good. And now the police are going to be visiting, and we kind of want to go to bed.

But it was very exciting.

Good thing we've got housesitters when we go away. I can just see the juvenile delinquents wanting to steal hundreds of baby tshirts and a 10 year old telly.

Oink

Here at Wanda Harland HQ we've gone pink for breast cancer.

Over at SunnyO, Llew is offering pashes for ping. He didn't say so in so many words, but if you read between the lines, I think it is pretty obvious that is the offer.

Go on, cough up folks.

And anyone living in Adelaide St in Petone, still give to the arthritis collector when he calls. The rain has kept him away, so *cough* we're a little late...

No smiling, we're from New Zealand

I had a very traumatic time last week getting Malo's passport. It is very difficult to get a picture of a 2 year old, very difficult. My first attempt was denied by Internal Affairs, because he was smiling.

Passports take 10 days, unless you're prepared to give them a car or something, and each day was precious (given that we'd allowed 8 days). We raced into a pharmacy to get some pics, and no bull, it took 1/2 hour to get Malo to shut his mouth (open mouths aren't acceptable either). You're not allowed to have your hand in the picture either, so heaven forbid you try and hold up an infant's head.

Photos have to be a natural colour too. Malo's was too pink.

Anyway, nightmare over. The passport is on its way with the courier as I type. On its way, or stuck on the motorway. This weather has to be seen to be believed.

Anyone who wonders why we're going to Brisbane - hello - 25 degrees.

FAQs

Do you think FAQs on websites are ever real? They never seem to address whatever it is I'm wondering about.

Here are the FAQs at Wanda Harland:

Where does Wanda Harland come from?
Porn name.

Really?
No.

So?
Well, my porn name was Noski Ohiro (first pet's name, street name). Not very hot. Wanda was my tooth fairy, and Harland a name my father said he liked if I were a boy. Seemed a little more rock n roll.

How do you get time to blog?
Seriously? Have you read this blog? It isn't written after lengthy thinks and masses of drafts. In fact, I have never done a draft nor proofread a post. I'm pretty low rent.

Unasked FAQs

Oh, so you're a geek
WHATEVER. Yes, I suppose so. But I still can't make my computer work, or earn serious money.

Do you meet people over the internet?
It wasn't the plan, but I have met lots of great people over the internet now.

Did you score?
No. I'm a low rent geek. Nobody wanted to.

How does your husband feel about the blogging?
Strangely, quite impressed. He is easily impressed, which is why I love him,

Myspace be gone

Emily has hooked me up with Facebook, in fact Emily and I are virtually the only people in the world on Facebook, but I'm suggesting you all join. It is much prettier and easier to use than Myspace, and seems to be entirely without purpose, exactly like Myspace. Go on, give it a whirl.

Poll results are in

Turns out that all my readers who participated in the poll are exactly the same as me. You all like the grog, being happy and swinging. And by swinging I mean on a swing - of course.

8 sleeps til Brooklyn, I mean Brissie

Car booked - yes
Motel booked - yes, although my advice? Don't book after a few wines. You'll end up with a two bedroomed villa on 4 acres of parklike grounds in central Brisbane, with 2 pools. 2 nights will cost more than a week's mortgage. Oh well, it is a holiday.

And Wiggles World is at Dreamworld, brilliant.

So now I need another 5 nights accomodation at half the price.

And a container for all the Ikea orders I've been getting from people.

Can't wait can't wait can't wait.

Ahahahahahha

In case you thought I'd grown up and given up drunken blogging - a hahahhaha. Not 'alf. Although I'm not too pissed, just a few wines for my sister's 31st. Does that ever sound right? I think I managed to get used to my baby sister being in her 20s, but 30s? Mind you, I'm not sure I'm accustomed to being in my 30s yet, and 34 is looming large.

So, I went and had a pedicure today. Christ. I was feeling like it was going to be an appointment at the dentists, and I was bang on. Although the dentist never makes you a bit prettier, just poorer and sorer. It was part of my sister's celebrations. Happily I won't be addicted to pedicures, and happily I won't go to my grave wondering what one is like.