Saturday, July 24, 2004
Random Saturday-flavoured observations.
- Saturdays are good. I can sleep in till after lunch [or at least lie in bed reading Country House Murders,which is an exercise in pointless, as I read the damn thing two weeks ago, and I already know who the murderers are.] and not miss anything.
- It was supposed to be sunny, but it's not.
- Tim-my-brother is going home four days from now. He'll be home for two weeks, then he's back off to that Great Southern Land. [Also known as the South Island.]
This is unfortunate, because I'm not going to be home till four weeks from now, which means I'll be there a week after he leaves. I haven't seen him since about the 14th of November last year and I've talked to him about 4 times. I miss my little brother! And I'm not likely to see him any time soon after that. So it sucks, really. - And so they danced till they came to a beautiful castle on hill. Dance all around all the world with me. [I'm listening to Nature's Best. It is good.]
- This was going to be a sport-free post, but I'll just say that:
a) i have a nasty feeling we're going to lose tonight against the Boks, and
b) i'm hoping my dad will think it a great idea to take his favourite elder daughter [that would be me] to the Boxing Day ODI in Auckland for her Christmas present. - And it's only July.
And that is all I have to say. And now I can hear my Greek saying "Mary, Mary!" so I must go and do it.
Translate it. My Greek homework. Gutter mind. Jeez.
Tuesday, July 20, 2004
How the mighty have fallen.
You know, time was when I didn't even read the sports section in the newspaper. Now, when I come online, what are the first pages I go to? allblacks.com and cricinfo.com. I'm pathetic, that's what I am.
I think I have an addictive personality. As in, I get addicted easily, not people get addicted to me because I'm a bit boring for that, but I mean, seriously. I spent most of my high school life dedicated to mocking [but lovingly so] *Nsync. Of course, that is all over now.....she says, without lying or anything like that.
And then there was [and is] Pearl Jam. I have, what, 15 or 17? cds now. Which given I own approximately 52 cds is a pretty high percentage. And only 7 of them are studio albums, the rest are concerts. And the odd single.
And then there was cricket. And now there is rugby.
[And the odd little other obsession in between. Like Buffy, and Monarch of the Glen.]
Just as I was writing all of this, I noticed a common factor. We'll call it, for the sake of short men everywhere, the McCullum factor.
they have them! All of them do! They have a short/amusingly cute by accident of name, height, large wicket-keeping gloves, being born in Mississippi or just really pretty man in the mix somewhere.
For Example:
Lance from Nsync was born in Mississippi. He makes me laugh just by existing.
McCullum, the cricketer, has large wicketkeeping gloves and is short, and amuses me greatly.
Daniel Carter is extraordinarily pretty for a rugby player, thus rendering him amusing.
He also looks like Archie from Monarch of the Glen. Archie amuses me, but Duncan amuses me still more, and he is the McCullum of Glenbogle.
Now, the laws of physics state that for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. This has very little to do with anything, but it brings me to my next point: The Oram Factor. [Otherwise known as Tall Men That Amuse Me.]
As you may have guessed, Oram is the cricketer who falls into this category. He is Very Tall Indeed.
I think I find this amusing because I am 5ft1.
JC from Nsync is also tall, but I find him amusing for many reasons, not least his taste in clothes.
Chris Jack is also Very Tall.
And Paul from Monarch of the Glen goes in this category as well.
I could also name examples closer to home, but I won't. Let's just say that Wonderboy and the Crotch also fall into these categories. Wouldn't you agree, Steff?
You may notice that I have left Pearl Jam and Buffy out of this list. This is because Buffy only has Spike, and Pearl Jam transcends the McCullum factor by making music worth listening to, which neither *Nsync, nor any of the other groups for that matter, do. Although I must admit I have an mp3 of the haka on my computer. Sad but true.
There was a point to all this but I've forgotten it what it was. Possibly I just wanted to mention McCullum cos I haven't for ages.
You know, time was when I didn't even read the sports section in the newspaper. Now, when I come online, what are the first pages I go to? allblacks.com and cricinfo.com. I'm pathetic, that's what I am.
I think I have an addictive personality. As in, I get addicted easily, not people get addicted to me because I'm a bit boring for that, but I mean, seriously. I spent most of my high school life dedicated to mocking [but lovingly so] *Nsync. Of course, that is all over now.....she says, without lying or anything like that.
And then there was [and is] Pearl Jam. I have, what, 15 or 17? cds now. Which given I own approximately 52 cds is a pretty high percentage. And only 7 of them are studio albums, the rest are concerts. And the odd single.
And then there was cricket. And now there is rugby.
[And the odd little other obsession in between. Like Buffy, and Monarch of the Glen.]
Just as I was writing all of this, I noticed a common factor. We'll call it, for the sake of short men everywhere, the McCullum factor.
they have them! All of them do! They have a short/amusingly cute by accident of name, height, large wicket-keeping gloves, being born in Mississippi or just really pretty man in the mix somewhere.
For Example:
Lance from Nsync was born in Mississippi. He makes me laugh just by existing.
McCullum, the cricketer, has large wicketkeeping gloves and is short, and amuses me greatly.
Daniel Carter is extraordinarily pretty for a rugby player, thus rendering him amusing.
He also looks like Archie from Monarch of the Glen. Archie amuses me, but Duncan amuses me still more, and he is the McCullum of Glenbogle.
Now, the laws of physics state that for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. This has very little to do with anything, but it brings me to my next point: The Oram Factor. [Otherwise known as Tall Men That Amuse Me.]
As you may have guessed, Oram is the cricketer who falls into this category. He is Very Tall Indeed.
I think I find this amusing because I am 5ft1.
JC from Nsync is also tall, but I find him amusing for many reasons, not least his taste in clothes.
Chris Jack is also Very Tall.
And Paul from Monarch of the Glen goes in this category as well.
I could also name examples closer to home, but I won't. Let's just say that Wonderboy and the Crotch also fall into these categories. Wouldn't you agree, Steff?
You may notice that I have left Pearl Jam and Buffy out of this list. This is because Buffy only has Spike, and Pearl Jam transcends the McCullum factor by making music worth listening to, which neither *Nsync, nor any of the other groups for that matter, do. Although I must admit I have an mp3 of the haka on my computer. Sad but true.
There was a point to all this but I've forgotten it what it was. Possibly I just wanted to mention McCullum cos I haven't for ages.
Monday, July 19, 2004
Ah, people who have sex in the Burger King toilets. So full of class.
So, I was just doing my stats assignment, and they gave us questions to do from our textbook. I'm not sure if they counted on people like me looking up the answers in the back.
I did know the answers, btw, I was just making sure that I was right. My note are a complete mess and I can't be arsed sorting them out. This is a great way to start the new trimester.
In other academic news, while I did not get any As in my final marks, I got a B+ (psyc), C (bio - which I somehow passed, I'm not quite sure how. I mean, how do you fail an open book test? How?) and... a B- for chem!!! This is a miracle as I completely made up my answers on the exam and was certain I would fail. So so far none of my $10,000-and-accumulating loan has gone to waste (except possibly the excessive amount of chocolate I bought last week with my living costs). And I am happy.
I know Mary has already mentioned how Marshall is an evil little meerkat, but I feel I must emphasise this point. Although he did make Saturday's game very interesting, especially when they all started fighting. Violence, violence. And Doug Howlett has brilliant hair.
I must point out that rugby is a ridiculous game, and all people ever seem to do is get sat on. And yet our nation thrives on it. Quite literally. And I love it. (Well, I don't, but...)
Wow. I feel like I'm cheating on cricket. This is all Mary's fault. She should never have shown me McCullum. Now I'm on a downward spiral, new obsessions being picked up every day...
Speaking of obsessions, news from an old one. JC was being interviewed on NZ readio today. Of course the station I was listening to had boring questions about MMC to ask him, and over at The Edge they had a gay NZ fan interviewing him. If only I didn't refuse to listen to The Edge.
And now Mary, I have blogged. Fabulous.
So, I was just doing my stats assignment, and they gave us questions to do from our textbook. I'm not sure if they counted on people like me looking up the answers in the back.
I did know the answers, btw, I was just making sure that I was right. My note are a complete mess and I can't be arsed sorting them out. This is a great way to start the new trimester.
In other academic news, while I did not get any As in my final marks, I got a B+ (psyc), C (bio - which I somehow passed, I'm not quite sure how. I mean, how do you fail an open book test? How?) and... a B- for chem!!! This is a miracle as I completely made up my answers on the exam and was certain I would fail. So so far none of my $10,000-and-accumulating loan has gone to waste (except possibly the excessive amount of chocolate I bought last week with my living costs). And I am happy.
I know Mary has already mentioned how Marshall is an evil little meerkat, but I feel I must emphasise this point. Although he did make Saturday's game very interesting, especially when they all started fighting. Violence, violence. And Doug Howlett has brilliant hair.
I must point out that rugby is a ridiculous game, and all people ever seem to do is get sat on. And yet our nation thrives on it. Quite literally. And I love it. (Well, I don't, but...)
Wow. I feel like I'm cheating on cricket. This is all Mary's fault. She should never have shown me McCullum. Now I'm on a downward spiral, new obsessions being picked up every day...
Speaking of obsessions, news from an old one. JC was being interviewed on NZ readio today. Of course the station I was listening to had boring questions about MMC to ask him, and over at The Edge they had a gay NZ fan interviewing him. If only I didn't refuse to listen to The Edge.
And now Mary, I have blogged. Fabulous.
Sunday, July 18, 2004
Rugby: Sport of Men.
Well, it was the first game of the Bledisloe Cup/ Tri-Nations last night, and sadly I was unable to attend,
a) because I had to go out to dinner [such a hardship],
and b) there is no way in hell I would've been able to get tickets. They sold out before I even realised I liked rugby.
However, it could've been worse. It was pouring with rain the entire time, and I felt very sorry for poor little Daniel Carter with the rain sticking his tight black t-shirt to him and all those girls watching on tv lusting after him.
He is very pretty.
We won. We were ahead for the entire game.
I wasn't really paying much attention to why this was, as I was distracted by Justin Marshall, who is a cross between an angry pornstar called Sparkle and a psychopathic meerkat which is very good at rugby.
[I mean no offence to his parents. I'm sure it's a situation like in that book about the town that gets hit by a metorite or something, and all the women get pregnant, and give birth to evil Children who have a single conciousness and mind-control everyone, and then get blown up. The point is that it wasn't the parents fault. I think it's by the guy who wrote Day of the Triffids, but I can't remember the title.].
Anyway, Justin Marshall was being an angry little man, and we were taunting him. He couldn't hear us, as we were
a) watching on tv and
b) it was delayed coverage anyway.
I was also distracted by Chris Jack, who my flatmate tells me is my future husband. This has no stronger basis than the fact that he is almost twice my height and therefore we would look funny. I think somehow it is unlikely to ever happen, given he is much too old for me, and quite possibly already married, and of course I have never met him and have no particular desire to.
But things like this make rugby watching more interesting. I don't understand people who watch it solely for the beauty of the game. I watch it more for the beauty of Richie McCaw, who sadly was not playing. Nevertheless, there was much to make up for it. Daniel Carter, as I have said, is very pretty. Carlos Spencer is the Toffeepops Guy. Or he was. Steff likes Doug Howlett, but he looks like Michael Jackson [sort of around Thriller time, not now, thank God.]. Marty Holah is far from ugly. Claire finds Justin Marshall very attractive, but I think he looks like a meerkat.And then there are Evans and Mehrtens, Kelleher [who isn't, really, but Ruth thinks so, and he's a Chief, so he can be.] and Muliania, and let's face it, the whole team is a bunch of pretty boys.
and yet we still win.
In other news, I was out in town after the game, and it was very busy in all the clubs [Courtenay Place was packed with people wanting to be All Black groupies] so went into the ladies toilets at Burger King, and there were people having sex in one of the cubicles. Charming.
Well, it was the first game of the Bledisloe Cup/ Tri-Nations last night, and sadly I was unable to attend,
a) because I had to go out to dinner [such a hardship],
and b) there is no way in hell I would've been able to get tickets. They sold out before I even realised I liked rugby.
However, it could've been worse. It was pouring with rain the entire time, and I felt very sorry for poor little Daniel Carter with the rain sticking his tight black t-shirt to him and all those girls watching on tv lusting after him.
He is very pretty.
We won. We were ahead for the entire game.
I wasn't really paying much attention to why this was, as I was distracted by Justin Marshall, who is a cross between an angry pornstar called Sparkle and a psychopathic meerkat which is very good at rugby.
[I mean no offence to his parents. I'm sure it's a situation like in that book about the town that gets hit by a metorite or something, and all the women get pregnant, and give birth to evil Children who have a single conciousness and mind-control everyone, and then get blown up. The point is that it wasn't the parents fault. I think it's by the guy who wrote Day of the Triffids, but I can't remember the title.].
Anyway, Justin Marshall was being an angry little man, and we were taunting him. He couldn't hear us, as we were
a) watching on tv and
b) it was delayed coverage anyway.
I was also distracted by Chris Jack, who my flatmate tells me is my future husband. This has no stronger basis than the fact that he is almost twice my height and therefore we would look funny. I think somehow it is unlikely to ever happen, given he is much too old for me, and quite possibly already married, and of course I have never met him and have no particular desire to.
But things like this make rugby watching more interesting. I don't understand people who watch it solely for the beauty of the game. I watch it more for the beauty of Richie McCaw, who sadly was not playing. Nevertheless, there was much to make up for it. Daniel Carter, as I have said, is very pretty. Carlos Spencer is the Toffeepops Guy. Or he was. Steff likes Doug Howlett, but he looks like Michael Jackson [sort of around Thriller time, not now, thank God.]. Marty Holah is far from ugly. Claire finds Justin Marshall very attractive, but I think he looks like a meerkat.And then there are Evans and Mehrtens, Kelleher [who isn't, really, but Ruth thinks so, and he's a Chief, so he can be.] and Muliania, and let's face it, the whole team is a bunch of pretty boys.
and yet we still win.
In other news, I was out in town after the game, and it was very busy in all the clubs [Courtenay Place was packed with people wanting to be All Black groupies] so went into the ladies toilets at Burger King, and there were people having sex in one of the cubicles. Charming.
