I'm a complete copycat. Since I read about Alan's Wii I have been obsessed, and today I succumbed to its charms. Lovely Wii.
I have spent the evening beating the crap out of some bearded guy in the ring. My hatred of boxing seems to have gone out the window.
Wii, I love you. And I don't love LV Martin's anymore. They didn't even know what a Wii is, which made me sound kind of pervy - "Have you got a Wii?"
The relief with having the GST done, and all my orders posted, and all other dramas settled is immense. I feel great.
Apart from the headache. What is with nature when everything is peachy and you get a headache?
I've medicated with panadol and coffee. It was obvious my brain needed something more, and lo! A courier at the door with a package from America. The fabulous Rebecca has sent me a box of magic. I don't know how many of my readers reside in America, if you do I urge you to get into your wood panelled station wagon and drive to Philadelphia and buy yourself some of Rebecca's marshmellows.
She also sent other divine treats that make it obvious why America is full of humungous people. Good kai folks. Combos! A delicious pretzel filled with orange pizza flavoured stuff, York Mints, balls of magic...
I'd say more, but I need to go to the secret hiding place and try all the other things in the box.
La headache c'est fini.
Next week I am doing a nervewracking 2 minute speech (obviously I can't be certain it will be nervewracking, however I think it is safe to assume that it won't be as relaxing as, say, a warm shower) - I love digressing, can you tell? - at Webstock. The topic is 'how the internet changed my life', and I was kind of vague about what I would talk about...
UNTIL NOW. Bless you IRD, and your award winning website (vague recollection of fellow student who was IRD employee being proud of award-winning-status-of-ird website).
My GST return was done in mere minutes, after nightmare hours of writing 400 transactions into a spreadsheet (exactly 400, weird magic 400 transactions. Maybe someone will give me 400 million. I did see Sam Morgan at the beach the other day. I'm enjoying brackets today, they give me the freedom to meander with my writing).
And I won't have to drive into town to drop my GST return into the IRD box. Maybe they don't even have one anymore. Last time I did that was in 1998 when I had my last business.
Hence (I love good filler words like 'hence', and I love that I hate people starting sentences with 'and', and yet I do it because I can, my site muahhahahhahaha) the internet has saved me having to go out into the world.
And (see?) for that I am thankful.
I am not doing my GST return.
I am not doing anything else either, because I have a GST return to do.
But I am not doing the GST return.
Gah.
The price to pay for all that blogging silence is the equivalent amount of postings all in one day.
Who said that Anna Nicole is rapidly decomposing? Don't they have fridges and embalming fluid in America?
Has the Russian mafia stopped sending out junk mail? Today I had nothing, it it kind of makes me miss Constance L. Gonzarrez, and Edwin Q. Capple.
Finn's constant companion, Monkey, turned 5 today. We weren't aware of any of his other birthdays, until yesterday when Finn started making decorations for a party.
I made some orange cupcakes, with lemon curd filling, and some little cream cheese and vegemite sandwiches cut into shapes, and all the friends joined in for lots of singing.
Course, I topped it with
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you
You look like a monkey
And you act like one too
Having a 2 and a 4 year old (plus assorted animal friends) is the best audience I could ask for.
It has been a crazy week.
The very good news is that we have my beautiful Reuben Paterson picture hanging on the wall. It has been framed by the uber talented Sam Broad. He is very awesome and well worthy of your support with his new framing business.
That Coast to Coast bloke, Robin Judkins, was on the telly tonight going on about buying art being the very best investment. That is not the reason we buy art, but crikey, it is good to have someone justify it so sweetly for us.
Last night Craftwerk was on at the Cross. In MY DAY it was called the Southern Cross, but now it has been upgraded by DESIGNERS and ARCHITECTS and is the Cross.
I realised I've moved up a generation. I'm too old to appreciate the irony of wearing really foul 80s clothes. I'd be very happy to see people in lime green fishnets, or legwarmers, or Cum Fuck me Boots. Ugly pleated polyesther skirts that I wouldn't have touched with a barge pole though? No, irony lost (ironically).
I had a lovely time, despite being horrendously old. Sold loads of stuff, which makes life prettier, and spent some money of some great things. I should photograph them for you all, but that would involve movement, and meh, can't be arsed.
Tomorrow is Petone Fair. Another big day out, and hopefully some more money. I've got my eye on a very fabulous frock to wear to Webstock Mini(I'm speaking!), but I will need to sell 24 shirts to pay for it, and 48 to justify buying it. Wish me luck.
The next five weeks are going to be tres busy for the discerning shopper. There are fairs galore. Here is a quick run down:
15th February - Craftwerk is on at the Southern Cross. An almost all new line-up of stalls will keep it fresh and interesting, and it is on from 5-9pm with bands.
17th February - Petone Fair. Jackson St will be chock full of everything from sausage sizzles, bouncy castles and ethnic food, to fab jewellery, clothes and gifts. Starts 10am. I recommend parking along the Esplanade and walking a couple of blocks to the fair.
17th February - The Big Bang is on at the NewDowse. This signals a month of exciting activities. A highlight will be The Real Hot Bitches performing a danceathon at 4pm.
3rd March - The second of the Martinborough Fairs is on. This is a repeat performance of the fair in February, with all the same fabulous food and stalls. It is a great opportunity to scope out some wineries while you're over the hill. Martinborough Square.
10th March - Gay and Lesbian Fair, Newtown School. An array of stalls and activities. 9am-4pm
17th March - Whoop! Craft2.0 is going to be on at the NewDowse in Lower Hutt. This fabulous fair is the culmination of a month of activities at the NewDowse to celebrate its renovations. There will be the finest craft from around the country and hot bands. More information on this exciting event will be updated every 2 minutes (heh).
A Saab pulled up over the road. I said "A Saab pulled up over the road", cos, you know, we sold our Saab recently, and I love them still.
4 men were in it. They were dressed in black. "Bloody mobsters" said I, cos, you know, we live in the 'hood.
They hopped out. "Real Estate agents" I said, because we live at the 'desirable Eastern end of Petone, dress circle'.
They had bow-ties on. "That guy on the corner has got his barber-shop quartet to sing to his wife" said I. Glen blushed.
"No! They're looking at the house! They keep looking at me! YOU DIDN'T". I hid in Finn's room.
When I came out, I grabbed the video camera, and set to enjoying the adoration of 4 older gentlemen giving me their undivided attention.
They sang me 2 beautiful songs, and gave me a rose. I was chuffed.
Turns out Glen had put them up to it though, meaning I haven't got 4 new boyfriends, just one old, very sweet husband.
First thing yesterday I nipped down to the post office to buy the Listener and Next. They're both featuring marvellous internet pals (and now in fact real life pals too) - Queen Jo Hubris and David Slack. I was in awe of knowing 2 PEOPLE IN THE SAME WEEK IN MAGAZINES.
Today I got a call from a woman with impeccable taste, wanting to order a shirt she'd seen featured in the Woman's Weekly. Fancy! I'm sort-of-ish in a magazine too. My cup runneth over.
I've taken this with photobooth on the new puter, and it is backwards. It is like a puzzle for you all to decipher, and when you have place an order for some shirts ow.
It isn't my 2 year blogiversary yet (although tomorrow is the Shopping Sherpa's 1st). Mine is on the 18th of March for anyone who is counting.
I was reading through some old posts, and I seemed to rant on about buying stuff more, and I for one found it hellishly entertaining. It was like re-living all those exciting purchases - a car! A coffee cart! A portable music player! A coffee grinder!
And I read that I was 32, and almost wept at the youthfulness of it all. I suppose when I'm 36 I'll be all moony about being 34. At the moment though I just feel a bit too busy, and a bit too much like I'm not partying all night long.
There is a fiesta in Petone at the moment, we strolled down earlier for a look. I was pretty put off when I heard a band sing "How will we escape when the bridges are all burning". I am not a lyric listener as a rule, and that is why, I just hate crappy lyrics. Ironically (I say "ironically" far more than is appropriate), when we walked home we went past the newly empty Petone Fire Station. Glen said if there is a disaster and the bridges over the Hutt river are damaged, no fire service will be able to get through to us. And then what will we do if all our bridges are burning?
And basically I think I should return to writing about being drunk and shopping.
The reason for the drunken ramble last night was the drinking of the alcohol. Who knew all that wine and beer would get me all pissed? Best not do that again. I'm feeling a bit poorly today, but nothing copious amounts of free Karajoz coffee (thanks Karajoz!) and Arnott's Mint Slice biscuits won't fix.
The Great Blend was, well, a great blend. It was a great blend of people, and a great blend of discussion and humour. The Back of the Y boys were funny, and at one point I actually SNORTED. I am all class.
The last Great Blend was in July, and in July I hadn't really met many internet types. Now I'm an old pro (does anyone else think of prostitutes every time they hear that?). Ms Hubris was there, preparing herself for a swim later, Ms Ratpony was there and I forgot to say again how much I love the CD (I love the CD!), I finally met Mr Farrar, which was a great pleasure, Mr Beard was there and also Mr Tibby (who I really tactifully asked about his heart - note to self, try being more tactful), the divine Mr Brown hosted the whole shebang, and should be given an Order of New Zealand honour (RIP MacDiarmid). Ms Tyler was there too, I'm Robin and she is Batman. The gorgeous Ms Sarah came, and let me drunken ramble at her all the way home.
There were other people too, ones who don't have addresses I can link to - real people who probably value their privacy.
There was much Monteiths consumed, which ran out in about 47 seconds. Apparently there was food too, but anyone knows that eating is cheating.
I'm exhausted after all that linky stuff. It doesn't suit my personality type to actually do things that take more than 2 minutes, so I'm going to have a lie down and recover.
Sometimes you come home from the Great Blend with †he big analysis of the amazingness of local †alen† and international talent.
And sometimes you just come home pleased the babysitter put the chilli mussels and cookies and cream icecream in the fridge and freezer. And you eat them.
I knew marrying a scientist would one day pay off.
He is an acclaimed fart expert now! Awesome
How long do you think it will take for retailers to notice that summer starts in January, and consequently their sales fall exactly when people are starting to think about warmer weather clothing?
We did so much more than see hot rods that I feel I need to share.
I've been away. Christchurch, to be specific. I know everyone hates Christchurch, but I don't. I love the place. It is my turangawaewae (I think, as long as 'turangawaewae' means 'place I first tasted a burger').
We picked up a fabulous rental car at the airport. As my lovely rellies pointed out, it looked like an undercover cop car. It was also excruciatingly appealing to bogans. Late model Ford in bright blue - AWESOME DUDE. This meant we were desirable to much of the population of Canterbury.
We timed our trip to coincide with the Pre-1949 Hot Rodders Convention. To be perfectly honest this was a lucky accident. Sitting at the Hill Top on the way to beautiful Akaroa, a constant stream of shiny cars with flames cruised past forever. After apologising to a rodder (for that is what they are called) about our car, and interrupting his recording of the procession of the cars on his camera-phone, we found out that they had come from all over the country.
After doing lots of swimming in the sea and eating icecreams and buying of hats (well, one hat, but 'hats' fitted better in the sentence), we had a good gander at the Hot Rods.
We have a new tribe. The rodders are our people, and now all I can think of is buying a pre-1949 vehicle, painting it yellow, waxing the bejeesus out of it, and using our range-hood as a muffler.
All up, a very satisfactory holiday was had by all.
In my inbox this morning is an email from the Labour Party urging me to vote against John Keys. This is fine with me, I have no desire to see the man elected.
But you know what? I studied politics at university, so I'm pretty onto it. I have this vague idea that there isn't an election on at the moment. In fact I'm pretty sure I haven't seen any billboards, haven't noticed an party broadcasts on the telly.
The email is telling me to text or 0900 a bloody Dominion Post poll.
I'm a bit livid.
I really really really hate those polls.
As well as politics I studied Statistics in the 7th form (take that teacher that told me to give up maths), and I passed - PASSED! 7th form statistics taught me to be very cynical about polls. So did commonsense, but I'll give school this one kudos.
I'm strangely very upset about being asked to vote in a trite piece of newspaper rubbish. I had always assumed these polls are run to make some money (of course they are), and for people who can't be bothered venting with a letter to the editor, and who are fed up with yelling at the telly. Surely nobody with half a brain takes them seriously?
