lookalert

Webbing.

2008-12-12T20:39:00.001+13:45

Some sites exist for a reason.

And some people have too much money and therefore buy domain names.

It's very fun though.

http://www.theyfightcrime.org/

I was sick of that last post.

2008-09-03T09:57:00.000+12:45

So here is an interesting site to go to:

http://www.glossedover.com

Shitting hell Kingdom of Heaven is boring

2008-03-29T21:58:00.002+13:45

I remember it being a bit tedious, but not quite like this. Plus, Orlando's not as hot as I remember, which saddens me.

Just wanted to share that with the world.

SEX!

2008-03-26T23:02:00.003+13:45

I was just looking for my downloaded copy of Pride and Prejudice, when something caught my eye: a word doc called "SEX".

It's alright. I had a WTF moment, opened it, and discovered it was a discussion I'd facilitated last year about Christianity and sexuality. I was going for the "sex sells" philosophy; the full title is "SEX! SEX! SEX!" I'm classy, obviously.

It's true though. All you need is for those three letters and you're drawn in.

This isn't particularly groundbreaking stuff, obviously, but I just felt like sharing the fact that I had a mystery document on my computer which was blatantly about sex.

The end.

Items of Note

2008-03-02T22:33:00.003+13:45

Hurrah! I once again have access to teh interwebs! Did you miss me?
Did you watch Grey's tonight? Was it not the most revolting episode in the history of the world?
I don't much like chainsaws.
My hair is looking fantastic. Which would be wonderful were I not about to go to bed.
Have you seen the I'm F*ucking Matt Damon/Ben Affleck videos on YouTube? One has Matt Damon being awesome. One has Ben Affleck wearing a beautiful tight turquoise shirt. One has a solo by a Mr Lance Bass. And Harrison Ford blowing a kiss.
I've missed the internet.
Speaking of which, Mary, what are your thoughts on scouting for boys? Yay? Nay? Eh?

“We thought Chris was gay because he used to hang out with a choreographer,” Bass added.

2007-11-05T23:52:00.001+13:45

I love it.

http://www.accesshollywood.com/news/ah7229.shtml

At least now he's openly a media whore.

And no, I can't get past my past obsessions, clearly.

Some important questions to ponder.

2007-09-17T21:14:00.000+12:45

First, watch this video:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b1n1Xz-7ttE

Do you want to listen to This I Promise You?
Do you want to have JC's children?
How did no-one ever notice Lance?
Do you remember the Supersize It sketch?
Since Lance is gay, does that also mean Joey is a man-slut? And JC is a crackhead? And Chris is dirty? And Justin is from a trailer park (yes)?
Is Snape too sexy for your party? Not sure if that's the good version...
Isn't Youtube marvellous?

Gettin' ooooooooold

2007-08-11T23:42:00.000+12:45

So, do you remember when you were a child and your parents sent you to bed before their guests came round to visit? And then you could hear this rumble in the background of voices and laughter, and if you had to get out of bed you'd come out and there'd be all these people and plates of food and wine glasses and beer bottles and everyone would look at you and go "Aww, you're sleepy, aren't you?" and then proceed to talk about you like you weren't there, while you cuddled up to the nearest available parent?

We've turned into those people, my friend.

P.S. By the age of 22, Jean Piaget had completed his PhD and published 20 papers, not to mention writing a philosophical novel (whatever that might be...). I mean, ok, I'm 22. I have a BSc, and if I'd used my time wisely and associated with the right people, I might by now have had a paper published in a mediocre journal, one which perhaps I contributed to in the lit review, or got credit for running some of the trials studied. I'd probably have Honours, and possibly a Masters (assuming I was a completely different person with completely different grades). There would be NO WAY IN HELL I would have a PhD by now. It's just impossible, unless I left school at 15. Or studied a really useless discipline.

What can we learn from this? Academia has become a lot more regulated since Piaget's time. (He did base many of his findings on observations of his own children. Some of them turned out to be wrong. I'm just saying.)

So don't feel too bad about yourself :-).

Feel bad about yourself

2007-07-30T22:10:00.001+12:45

http://www.museumofconceptualart.com/accomplished/

I just wanted a new post

2007-06-24T22:03:00.000+12:45

Ah, life is full of falling into ruts.

I don't want to go to Teacher's College tomorrow

And MAN it's hard to get the Lizard to do anything that involved leaving her house

Even though she hates her house

I don't get it.

Do you like the haiku-like format of this post?

Cookies!

2007-05-06T23:08:00.000+12:45

I made me some chocolate chip biscuits. They weren't too bad. This has little to do with my excellent baking skillz, and much to do with vast quantities of chocolate chips.

Internet is being bitchingly slow. I wish the month would tick over. Methinks somebody who's name begins with Steff has been spending too much time at YouTube. Imagine what it would've been like if that had existed back in the NSync days. On dial-up, no less.

Just went and visited Perez Hilton's site for the first time. As expected, 'twas rather lame and completely irrelevant, but also disturbingly addictive. But now I feel dirty.

Back in the real world, I cleaned the bathroom today. I also didn't go to church. I feel vaguely like I just wagged class...

I did also tidy my room, so now I can do such activities as walk, open my drawers and access my wardrobe, not to mention sit on my desk chair. It feels so roomy!

New Flatmate, who shall be called Nelson because that is my overwhelming impression of him (aren't I a clever girl?), helped cook dinner tonight. He and the Lizard made potato fritters and mince and veges. They were good, except now we have no more vegetables and will no doubt all perish from scurvy before the week is up.

Spoke to Mum earlier tonight. The lady who used to live with her family across the road from us in H-Town just died of lung cancer, having been diagnosed about 3 weeks' prior. It's all very sad. I remember going to visit her when I could barely walk. Apparently I used to spill all the family secrets for their entertainment (very cutely, of course). The strongest memory I have of their place is taking some gingernuts over for their son when he broke his arm, and watching the Billygoats Gruff with him. And also of their cat, who we used to feed when they went on holiday. They moved over the Kaimais when I was in sixth form, it must have been, because Mum took her old job when she left, which happened when I was 16, but they also looked after Annoying German Exchange Student Who Played Violin for a while, and she was at our school in that year. So yes, it's a bit sad, because she was lovely. But not too sad, because I haven't seen her in years. I'm making Mum sign the sympathy card from me as well. What an adult.

I really have nothing of particular interest to say. Have just been randomly stalking people's blogs (your sister is an interesting wee chappie, Mary) and felt the need to update. And so I have. And now I will go to bed, for tomorrow I must go to work, and at work all the stuff I didn't get done on Friday is waiting for me. Here's hoping the gods of technology don't fart in my face once more...(oh my golly, I think I just inadvertently (or unconsciously) quoted Blackadder. That's kind of awesome!)

Oh. God.

2007-03-19T23:09:00.000+12:45

Well, here it is, 10.30 at night, and I'm trying to download WordViewer so I can actually print my handout for school tomorrow. Fun Fun Fun.

I want to be back in Wellington. I quite want to give this lesson tomorrow, just to see how it goes. It's all All Blacks and exciting statistics. I want to be back in Wellington. There are good things there. And I don't just mean George.

Ooh, goody. Only 49 minutes left on my download. Yaaaay. What's the bet it cancels or the computer crashes or something. Bloody dialup.

Sorry to be so negative, but I feel it. I'm not sure if I'm meant to be teaching Classics tomorrow or not. I really need to, to get my 20 classes, but I'm not sure if I'll make it. However, I think I'm going to be teaching a hell of a lot of maths, so that is in my favour. I really don't know if I'm meant to be doing it...I could be preparing something, right now. It's on Gaza, and Alexander's arrival into Egypt.

All I know about that is:
There was a siege at Gaza.
The people of Egypt welcomed Alexander.
They had been oppressed by the Persians.
They called Alexander the son of Ammon.
He built a city called Alexandria.
He went to the oracle at Siwah, which told him something which is not recorded.

At least I think it's going faster than it's meant to be, 38 minutes to go. Only about a minute faster, but every little bit helps.

Right, I should work on Gaza. That would be a useful way to spend my time.

Or I could text George. Hmm. The options...What shall I do? 20 minutes to go...

And then she got over it...

2007-02-27T21:57:00.000+13:45

...while Mr Right frolicked merrily out of sight. Which was probably for the best, considering he was frolicking.

'Twould be amusing, though. I myself haven't indulged in a frolic in a good long while. I could do with a man who frolicked. Especially whilst merry. Although not merry as in how Robin Hood's men allegedly were, because that could just be unfortunate and a complete waste of time.

As you may be able to gather, I am wasting time for no particular reason.

Life is so boring when all one has to procrastinate is doing the dishes. Which one will not do as one has not been home for several days and did not create the mess. Plus, we threw out the dish brush. It's a long story.

I'm intrigued by the suggested labels for this post. Scooters, vacation, fall ... all, of course, completely relevant.

Did you know I share my star sign with Fabio? I was quite excited when I found out. Unreasonably excited, in fact.

Did you also know that as a Pisces, I am dreamy and creative? And floaty and full of the love? Just call me Phoebe. Or Steff of the Stars.

And obviously, I am not looking up my horoscope. At all. Not even once. Not even nzgirl and their amazing all-12-sign predictions that all have to do with Mercury's retrograde coming back and giving everyone a second chance or something.

And then she ran out of things to say. And the world heaved a sigh of relief.

Ah, men.

2007-02-22T00:37:00.000+13:45

The man, Steff? Does that mean you have a specific one in mind, or do you mean Mr Right?

Oh, shut up!

2007-02-08T19:39:00.000+13:45

The Lizard is doing her best to convince the world that she hates men. She's failing.

Me, I love men. I want a man. Somebody find me a man!

Not just any man, mind. The man.

My phone is kindly reminding me that I am not, in fact, 15 years old, but a rational, mature adult. It may need to remind me some more...

Not too sure what's happened with Blogger...

2007-02-04T10:12:00.000+13:45

Apparently I can edit and delete Mary's posts. Ah, the prospects...

Of course, that could just as easily work the other way around, but I do have the advantage that I know and she doesn't.

In other news, I am of course dressed and eating breakfast and about to leave for church so that I'll be on time, as opposed to sitting in my towel wasting time on the internet. I just wanted to come over and check the recent posts, and even though I know the last 2 are mine, all I have to say is lol. Because I remember my life, and it amuses me.

Films about planes upon which there are snakes does wonders for one's career

2007-01-12T23:47:00.000+13:45

A promo ad for Attack of the Clones was just on TV. Am highly amused Samuel L Jackson, aka Mace Windu (yes?) was billed ahead of Hayden Christensen, aka Incredibly Annoying Baby Darth Vader and Ewan McGregor, aka Acceptably Hot Obi Wan Kenobi. Don't worry, Ewan, you'll always be number 1 in my book.

Watched the first Pirates today. The knowledge that Norrington is Steve from Coupling slightly tainted the movie for me, more so than knowing that Legolas cut and dyed his luscious blonde locks for the role. Or is that the other way around? Speaking of the cast, did you know that Keira Knightley played the decoy queen in The Phantom Menace? I went looking for pictures because I didn't believe it (hence the horrific discovery that she is practically EXACTLY THE SAME AGE AS ME), and now that I've seen some I still don't believe it. Am now tremendously pissed off that Phantom Menace was on last week, instead of my previous position of being tremendously pissed off that it was on at all.

Bindi Irwin frightens me. She's like a robot. And is it really appropriate to make celebrities out of small children?

I should probably go to bed. I came home from the beach early in order to pack and generally organise my life, and apart from getting up early to put the recycling out, and being a taxi driver for a few hours, I've done shit all today. Meaning I've got a crap-load to do tomorrow, hence I'll have to get up early, hence I should be asleep RIGHT NOW in order to achieve my required 12 hours of rest.

Keira Knightley is my age

2007-01-12T20:28:00.000+13:45

In fact, she is just a few days younger than me. This does not give me self-esteem issues. At all.

People born in my year appear to be precociously successful, or at least get in quick on the adult things. For example, Mary's Friend Who Is A Day Younger Than Me has been married now for over a year. My cousin's cousin who is 2 months younger than me has also been married now for several months (and I just found out her 18 year old sister has moved in with her boyfriend ... ahem). Even M-Dawg who I'm not sure has a name here but shouldn't be too hard to figure out is talking marriage, and he was born just a month after me. Of course, out of all the people listed above, I'm the only one with a university degree (conveniently ignoring the Lizard, who is qualified and employed), and I was a year late with that. And I'm yet to have a friend aged 21 who is knocked up (ignoring N-Money, who we didn't know until what she was knocked up with was well and truly born; speaking of which, G-Money makes a scarily good father. He's all fatherly and stuff, and O-Money calls him 'Daddy'), or owns a house. Because our favourite Wife of a Glazier was born the year before me.

In other news, I hate Hilary Duff. I am even more strongly opposed to her sister. However, I am all for Hugh Jackman and Kate Winslet.

Which was of course relevant in so many ways.

Now I must go and do my washing, before sitting down to some rubbish TV, as I am home alone until tomorrow and have no friends. I did spend the morning ferrying around my brother and his female attachment, as he generously decided to write off his car on Saturday. We went and visited it at the wrecker's. It was sad. I would be too, if someone wrote me off.

I feel a little reticent...

2006-11-26T23:31:00.000+13:45

..posting here after I know George has been here (I gave him the address, in the end). But he told me he wouldn't come back, and I trust him, so there's a guilt trip for you if you're back, George.

Mostly I just wanted to get rid of the last post. I have nothing of interest to say, except I seem to have abandoned all my interests. I forgot there was an All Blacks game on today. I haven't been following the cricket (although I know that England is sucking), international or domestic. It's kind of odd.

I'm reading The Prestige by Christopher Priest. It's also kind of odd.

Hello, George (II)

2006-11-21T00:25:00.000+13:45

George is currently trying to find this site; I am talking to him on MSN. I'll be surprised if he can - we have hid you well, little site. Of course, now this will come up in recently updated - but they're there for a whole ten seconds.

Hello, George...

2006-11-05T15:59:00.000+13:45

Isn't life a fun place? It's all completely random. Am interested to know whether or not George could in fact remember the address to this site...I would've, if I were George. But then I am not, and possibly have more interest in my thoughts than most other people.

In fact I would say there's not much "possibly" about that.

Going back to life being a fun place, I can't remember why I said that. Possibly it had something to do with the things I planned to do this weekend that I have not done. Man, wanted to bitch at InvisiGirl this morning. "Did you guys just get up? So much for the study..." [subtext: I am bitter because you refuse to come to my thing.] Excuse me if I want to sleep in for the first time in a week that has been remarkably stressful after going to bed at 3.30 (I shouldn't read in bed) and then not sleeping well because my teeth still fucking hurt.

Ah, the joy of ranting. It's so ...cathartic. It's my new word, so I hope it's spelt right. Do you think it's significant that spelt is an anagram of slept and I wrote that first? I don't.

I need to do some laundry quite badly, but the weather is shit. And I'm being very illspoken today. Shocking. Stupid fucking dictionary page won't load - that's why I'm online - so I can't get past line 35 of Menander. I should skip it and go on... I need to get through this whole play, Hesiod and Hecuba by wed morn...and re-read most of Aristophanes' plays. I've read Acharnians, Wasps and Clouds again...that leaves 8, and I could probably skip Frogs and Wealth if I had to. Oh, the fun times of study.

I guess it's part of life. Man, there are lots of shades of green.

Conversations With Salmond

2006-11-04T19:45:00.000+13:45

Once upon a time in a small, isolated village, far away from the bustle of the city, lived a young man with an interesting talent. The particular talent that this man possessed was the art speaking through a third party, specifically his beloved friend, the puppet Salmond. This skill which he practiced with such passion and enthusiasm has the official title of ventriloquism, but the young man of which we speak was wont to refer to it as Conversations With Salmond. Conversations With Salmond provided this young man, of whose name we have yet to encounter, with many happy hours of enjoyment.
Perhaps now would be an appropriate time to encounter our young man's name. His parents, who in the frame of mind usually delivered to those who have indulged in a few too many substances of the hallucinogenic nature in their youth and consequently lived in a permanent state of whimsy, had decided on a moniker they considered especially unique; Bob. Unfortunately, Bob's parents had also indulged in the odd joint.
One bright and unseasonably warm winter's day, Bob was whiling away the free hours indulging in some Conversations with Salmond. So immersed was he in his pastime of choice, he did not hear the footsteps that were drawing close. Holed up in the treehouse his father had built for him one special day whilst in the throes of a particularly good methamphetamine high, he was unaware that a woman that could only be described by men as incredibly hot was passing directly beneath him. This particular incredibly hot woman was inclined towards a ventriloquism fetish, and perhaps would be the perfect match for young Bob. Unfortunately, as Bob was too caught up in his craft, and the incredibly hot woman was deaf, we will never know. Thus we learn of the consequence of hiding away from the real world and failing to get a life.
The End.

Can I just say to New Zealand...

2006-10-26T14:42:00.000+13:45

Crowded House an Aussie band, Finn claims
24 October 2006

New Zealanders may love to claim Crowded House as their own but, sorry, Neil Finn says it was a Melbourne band.

Finn was one of the founding members of Crowded House and big brother Tim later joined but Neil told The Age newspaper the band's roots were Australian.

"Melbourne was the birthplace of Crowded House and was always the town we chose to return to. It's forever deeply ingrained in our collective psyche and was the backdrop for many of our best musical moments."

Finn was speaking to the newspaper from London after Crowded House was given an Age EG Music Award after an online poll of 37,000 people.

He said the band's drummer Paul Hester, who committed suicide last year, was from Melbourne and it was sad he was not around "to be reminded once more that Melbourne loved him too".

The other founding member, bass player Nick Seymour, was also an Australian.

...I TOLD YOU SO!

Because I am a copycat...

2006-10-25T17:53:00.000+13:45

I was over at smart bitches and saw they had this link to the gender genie, which can apparently tell if the gender of an author according to certain words they use...
I tested it on the entry below (my favourite dentist is dead) but it wasn't long enough (only 303 words, and it wants about 500): according to that though, I am a man. Only by about 10 points though.

I'm now on a hunt to find another, longer, blog entry. Ah-ha! 'Surreal, like a fish with shoes' comes in at 827 words, and tells me I am female (which I am glad to hear) by a margin of 1601 to 959.

So much for blog entries. You can also test this beastie on fiction and non-fiction, so I'm popping over to the *nsyncerator to pick up some marvellous fiction - and as we all know, I have plenty of non-fiction words (God bless numbers.)

As an aside, i'm finding it very hard to type - I just did a giant load of dishes, as the dishwasher has gone bung, and they're all a bit pruney.

So, fiction. Ah, fanfiction. It makes me cringe. Shattered (Chapter One) is of course the contender. And it knows I'm female. And my GOD that is a bad piece of writing.

So, non-fiction....the true test. I'll be putting through the first 1000 or so words of my thesis.....and apparently my non-fiction style is very masculine. I use lots of masculine words like 'the' and 'a' and 'are'.

Strange, strange beastie of a program. How does it know that men use these words but women don't?

You know what just hit me?

2006-10-20T01:48:00.000+13:45

I just wrote over 10,000 words on the symbolism of numbers.

I said that to the Giant Ginga (forgotten his nickname...but that's the Giant Ginga with the best pick up line ever: "it's time for the hot meat injection!"...if he gets any off that, I'm frightened)....anyway, I told him about my research and he was all like "Oh, that'd be right up your street!"

I am a freak, clearly. Do I have a big sign on my head saying "I like numbers!"? Cos I really don't like them that much. Although the number three is a favourite of mine....

And now that sounds dirty. I was just meaning that three is exciting. And I'm really not making this better. It's the first plane shape, people! Triangles! The basis of form! Maths!

My Favourite Dentist is Dead

2006-10-20T01:30:00.000+13:45

According to iTunes, via Steff, there is a French band that goes by this fabulous name. And they have songs called God. And Naked Lunch. I would like to hear them. They sound extremely random.

In other news, I have this to say:
1. My hair is interesting. Last week it underwent transformation from light brown to patchy ginger (courtesy of home dye job) to scary light blonde (courtesy of hairdresser - was meant to break up ginger 'subtly', cost lots of money) to light brown (courtesy of nice boss hairdresser - i went back and wept on his shoulder -figuratively -and he fixed it). Now the dye is settling down it's a bit coppery but I'm sure it's getting lighter everyday. What happens when the dye comes out? Will I be scary blonde again? Time will tell.
2. We beat South Africa in the cricket. Yay. And Australia got beaten by the West Indies. Yay. And we are playing Sri Lanka tomorrow. Yay. It's exciting. I love cricket.
3. On that subject, I was recently naming my children (as you do, when you don't have children or any show of having any in the near future), but had to stop when I realised I had a Jacob, a Dan, and was contemplating a Stephen...and was naming them after the Black Caps. No Brendons though. Icky. (Not McCullum; just the name).
4. Also randomly was contemplating my name if I was to marry (it was a long bus trip, okay?). Had never thought of it before, but must never marry Boy Next Door (not that was planning on it, but still): consder the name - Mary Next Door. Sounds remarkably like where criminals go to die. Except obviously not when in code. Man, I feel like a spy.
5. What happened to your keyboard/life, Steff?

FUCK.

2006-10-12T00:16:00.000+13:45

And that's all I have to say about that.

My poor keyboard. It didn't do anything wrong.

It is all good.

2006-09-11T00:34:00.000+12:45

Yes. It is.

It was duly noted.

2006-09-10T21:14:00.000+12:45

And I know you were in a bad mood with me as well and I feel bad and I was going to say sorry if I pissed you off at all this week but then you were at the movies and the moment was gone. So, sorry.

In other news, favourite sentence in my lab report so far: "The participants took part..."

I'm verbose.

I'm in a very bad mood.

2006-09-08T17:40:00.000+12:45

I just had to tell someone.

I found your live-journal, small sister o' mine!

2006-09-05T10:58:00.000+12:45

And because i am sad and reluctant to start working, I am stealing this fun game:

Go to your music player of choice and put it on shuffle.Say the following questions aloud, and press play.Use the song titles that come up to answer each question.NO CHEATING.

The problem here will be, do I have enough songs on winamp...we shall see.

How does the world see me?
Artist: The B52s
Song: Loveshack.
Comment: That's right, I may not look like much but there's glitter on the mattress. Or something. Oh dear.

Will I have a happy life?
Artist: Ian Drury and The Blockheads
Song: Hit me with your rhythm stick
Comment: Clearly I will.

What do people really think of me?
Artist: Alanis Morrisette
Song: All I really want
Comment: So, either I'm all they really want (ah, modesty); or they want to find a way to calm the angry vibe....

Do people secretly lust after me?
Artist: George Michael
Song: You Gotta Have Faith
Comment: Hhahahahahaha. Oh dear.

How can I make myself happy?
Artist: Johnny Cash
Song: I Walk the Line
Comment: By taking up line-dancing.

Or possibly, falling in love with someone and because of that giving up drunks, alcohol and promiscuity...

What should I do with my life?
Artist: Aqua
Song: Dr Jones
Comment: Take up archaeology. Or calling Dr Jones.

Will I ever have children?
Artist: Carly Simon
Song: You're So Vain
Comment: I should stop asking questions about myself?

What is some good advice for me?
Artist: Harry Belafonte
Song: The Lion Sleeps Tonight
Comment: It's safe to go outside, then.

What do I think my current theme song is?
Artist: Britney
Song: Toxic
Comment: That's right, baby. No, that's the other way round isn't it? So I'm intoxicated by someone...damn, that was almost awesome.

What does everyone else think my current theme song is?
Artist: Bruce Springsteen
Song: Fire
Comment: Why thank you, everyone else. I know I'm hot. :)

What song will play at my funeral?
Artist: Alanis Morrissette
Song: Head Over Feet
Comment: I died in an accident; alternatively, people will miss me.

What type of men/women do you like?
Artist: The Proclaimers
Song:500 Miles
Comment: Ah, Loyalty...

What is my day going to be like?
Artist: Justin Timberlake
Song: Rock Your Body
Comment: Well, there's a startling new development.

Why am I here?
Artist: Alanis Morrissette
Song: Jagged Little Pill
Comment: Because I'll have to eventually anyway.

What will people remember me for?
Artist: Johnny Horton
Song: Sink The Bismarck
Comment: Sinking the Bismarck?

What song will I get stuck in my head tomorrow?
Artist: Crash Test Dummies
Song: Mmmm Mmm Mmm Mmm
Comment: Fair Enough

Are there people outside waiting to take me away?
Artist: Madonna
Song: Like A Prayer
Comment: Hmmm....

What will this year be all about?
Artist: Bustop
Song: Kung Fu Fighting
Comment: Speaks for itself.

God I'm narcissitic.

Well. I'm glad that's over.

2006-09-02T01:07:00.000+12:45

Went to movies.

Made awkward conversation.

He liked me.

I thought he was nice. As in would make a nice friend. Not as in 'struck me as a really nice guy.'

The End.

Gosh.

2006-08-31T17:00:00.000+12:45

I was just walking past the hall mirror, and my hair's not parted so far sideways today, and bloody hell, it looks like Meredith's from Grey's Anatomy. Worrying.

You know what's cute? Lambs are cute. I was watching M*A*S*H today and it featured Greeks, a lamb, a spam lamb (which was also cute), and people getting drunk on ouzo. Good times.

I heard It's Gonna Be Me in the supermarket today. Was pleased with myself that it took me about half a verse before I recognised it. I also noticed for the first time that the boys are all INCREDIBLY nasal. Incredibly. JuJu really was a whiny brat, wasn't he?

Was listening to Schizophrenic last night. Blowin' Me Up gives me images of The Crotch in full pursuit at the Outback. Meanwhile, If You Were My Girl reminds me strongly of JD (of the Scrubs variety) for some reason.

How very pop-cultural of me.

In other news, my grandparents have sold their house, and are in the final stages of buying a new one. Goes unconditional this weekend, I believe. Scaryness. We're having a garage sale as an excuse for the entire family to get rid of all their crap (my TV cabinet's going! Sniff!), such as old bikes and broken ovens (ahem). And then I have to say goodbye to the house (again), because this time I KNOW I won't be seeing it again. Tears.

I took my hair out, and now it doesn't look like Meredith's. Crisis averted.

And now for something completely different: A man with a tape recorder up his nose.

I have a broad sense of humour, that is, I find many and most things hilarious. For a brief list, I would include romance novel covers, overly-buff men with long flowing hair, fish, my brother putting random paraphenalia on his head, babies that naturally grow their hair in a mohawk (so. Very. CUTE!) and the Boy Next Door when he's drunk. But you know what's the funniest thing of all? Grown men screaming. Cracks me up every time.

Seriously. Imagine Georg flailing his arms and screaming.

You're laughing, aren't you?

Surreal. Like a fish with shoes.

2006-08-28T17:17:00.001+12:45

The short version: I have an A+, a friend to avoid, and a date.

The long version:
It's been an odd few weeks, really. It began about Singled Out, when I may have caused some damage to a friendship inadvertently...not MY friendship though, so should I care? It is a puzzle. Then, my aunt and small cousin came to stay. Small Cousin changed Georg's name to Milk. It was cute. I went home. The cat peed on my coat (sob)! This is all only minorly odd and unreal. And then.

On friday, I travelled from the Land of the Mighty Mountain Which Hides In Clouds And Isn't Really There on a bus, with Seamus, which incidentally is a very weak nickname. This in itself was somewhat odd, since I had only jokingly suggested to my mother that she drive me that far and then she did.

Then I began to knit Seamus a scarf, on his request. It's crap, but this is irrelevant. I exchanged some texts with That Other Tall Blonde Boy, the One from the Hutt (ah, Singled Out...) and scared him with my knowledge of rugby. Where is written that girls don't like rugby? Seamus invited me to a party at Igor's house.

I went. The Lizard came too. I frolicked merrily all the way there. You try being cooped up on a bus with Seamus for five hours. You'll frolic too when you're free. Man, frolic's a funny word.

Anyway. We entered the house of Igor. They were playing Mafia. Igor, upon dying, came over to greet us. He chose to greet me by stroking my hair. Repeatedly. And by holding on to my hand. In the course of the evening he proceeded to come alarmingly close to my face, and to ask me in very ambiguous terms if I wanted to watch dvds sometime.

It unfrolicked me very quickly. And now I don't know what to do.

To continue with the surrealism. The next day it rained, so the Lizard and I made the obvious choice of what to do....go out to Spotlight, and buy a pattern and sew something. It rained a LOT. The Lizard dared me to jump in a puddle, so naturally I did. It was deeper than I expected.

The queue at spotlight was short but slow. I think I stood in line about a half hour. We came out to see the bus leaving. It continued to rain.

Even though it was raining, MiniGirl (That reminds me, the other OTHER George is out. If you know what I mean.) wanted to go to town so she could get laid. She shocked the Lizard with her frank comments on this matter. I decided town might be fun. Not to get laid, though. So, to town.

We went. Coyote was still being restuaranty. We drank. We danced. Some random guy tried to grope me, so I went to the bar. He followed, apologised and asked to be friends. He got my number - I am still too naive to give out false ones. I went back and danced. MiniGirl got friendly with some randoms. Some guy danced with me. We had a chat (and I don't mean that euphemistically) and he got my number. MiniGirl was accosted by The Groper. She, being not too picky, got friendly with him. I decided it was late and time to leave. MiniGirl debated the relative merits of The Groper and no sex, and opted for celibacy. Wise decision, as he has since been texting very frequently - me to say "how could you steal MiniGirl?" and her to say "what's wrong with me? what's wrong with you?" and generally being stalky.

Guy that I danced with, who is like every man I attract in bars, 20 and from the Hutt, has also texted me. And we are going to the movies. I'm not that excited about it, but hey why not? Plus could be helpful in dealing with ...other things.

God, this is a long post. I just don't want to write my essay. Heh,I wrote 'me essay.' Yaaaar, avast thar me hearties.

Speaking of essays...my Acharnians essay, the bulk of which was written in one day, was returned to me today. With an A+. Ah, the wisdom of using your professor's book to back up your argument. And of getting someone like Georg to proofread...they may not know what you're talking about, but they can pick up errors in style. My content is generally sound, it's my structure that has issues...but not this time! I've never had an A+ before so I'm joyous. Or joyful. Or something. Joyous probably means causing Joy...hmmm.

In other news, is a little stressful being just me and InvisiGirl...she's grumpy and tired. and I'm busy dealing with sudden surrealism of life. Which now you know all about.

Ah, bliss

2006-08-24T00:21:00.000+12:45

After a knotty, dry-haired drought of several days, I went out in my cold-ridden misery today and bought some new conditioner. It turns out I couldn't wait until tomorrow morning to use it, so I just had a shower with the express purpose of conditioning my hair.

So worth it.

Snigger

2006-08-11T01:40:00.000+12:45

Sean Robertson and the Steel Pincers of Doom:
In which Sean sets out in search of his father who has been temporarily mislaid for twenty years, meets the manly man Sock and his dog Shep, Yodallum dies, and they rescue Princess Mononoke.

Sean Robertson and the Starrenberg Meadows:
In which Sean and the others find crucial information from a duck called Barrie.

Sean Robertson and the Secret of Styris:
In which Sock gets the girl, and Sean finds his father.

So obviously I've gone to bed and haven't spent the past half hour trawling through the archives. I really am ridiculously narcissistic. That is the world's most difficult word to spell. Dictionary! Oh dear Lord I got it right. I really am awesome!

Oh, and also, what do you call a fish with no eyes? A fsh! It never gets old...

And finally, I wrote a post wondering where the teenyboppers have gone to. I do not remember writing this. At all. It does raise an interesting question, though.

Man I'm awesome

2006-08-11T00:51:00.000+12:45

Since my last post, an hour and 3/4 ago, I have made my afghans, established for George and G-Money exactly what key Rondo Alla Turka is in (A minor), teamed up with George to find a copy of an obscure Tchaikovsky piano piece from my youth on the internet, and subsequently relearned it. Not to mention doing the dishes and drinking a cup of tea. And placing bets on Mary's pulling potential. I'm going with 2 phone numbers.

I have also established just why the lounge was so dark and empty. It was my absence. I went in and turned on the lights, and suddenly they all came crawling out of the woodwork. (Granted, George did say I was the last person he expected to see in the kitchen. How very telling of my life at the moment. He also proved that he doesn't listen to me when he saw my list of things to do and was astonished by my enrolment in 3 300-level psyc papers. What's been my number thing to discuss for the last month? Those rats didn't come from nowhere.)

G-Money's girlfriend N-Money bought some shoes. They're kind of ugly, but oddly cute. I think it's because they're pink. Speaking of which, G-Money told you to wear flats? And you listened to him? YOU SHOULD HAVE WORN YOUR POINTY BLACK HEELS, WOMAN! Grr! Bad Mary!

'Those rats didn't come from nowhere' is an appallingly bad sentence. It's so bad, I think I'll keep it.

And now I shall go to bed, Song of the Lark flittering around in my head. I love Tchaikovsky. His music's so sticky.

Having read back over the title, apparently not only am I awesome, I'm George.

Not because he's awesome, I'd like to point out. Because he THINKS he's awesome. Man, we're all just merging into one big person. G-Money did the Mary-patented 'I'm a big walking [whatever]...' tonight. I'm awesome, not to mention full of good Christian morals. Invisible Girl has a dirty mind. Mary is on the prowl at Coyote. And George is doing his work.

And now I really will go to bed. 'Night, all! (of our zero readers)

Steff Dies of Shock

2006-08-10T23:08:00.000+12:45

So I've been holed up in my room for the past 3 hours or so. And I ventured out to visit the Ladies' because we all need a break once in a while, and decided that while I was out in the wilderness I should have a crack at being sociable and go out to the lounge to say hello. And, hello! Not only was the lounge empty, but it was dark! No lights! At 10.15pm! What's happened to us? We've all turned into antisocial nerds who'd much rather spend time alone in our rooms studying and writing essays (and transcribing fucking Ruth and Tau Henare's bullshit - 'ubsolutely!' 'I totully ugree!' 'Uvrythunk!') than watching TV. TV, people!

Except for Mary, of course. She's at Singled Out having the time of her life.

That's it. I'm making afghans.

In other news, my kidney hurts. I think it's because I punched it. Inadvertantly, of course.

Fantastic Names for Birds

2006-08-06T15:39:00.000+12:45

The nutcracker (Nicifraga cloumbiana).
The marsh tit (Parus palustris).
The marsh tit's North American cousin, the chickadee.

Who know birds had such awesome names?

And where did I find this wealth of information, you may ask? Why, my behaviour analysis textbook, of course.

Awww

2006-07-29T13:44:00.000+12:45

I'm so proud of him.

In all seriousness, this is most possibly the classiest thing he's ever done. I feel I can look at him and not cringe, which is ironic, really.

I'm sure it won't last though (the not-cringing, that is). Cos apparently he and Joey are working on a sitcom, and we all know what happens when Lance has a project on the go...

I knew it!

2006-07-29T11:06:00.000+12:45

Ah, the amusement of it all.

Come in here: Achieve astounding results in bed with these products designed to make any man a winner

2006-06-21T12:10:00.000+12:45

So, I accidentally opened some spam, and this is what it told me.

When your fear cometh as desolation, and your destruction cometh as a whirlwind; when distress and anguish cometh upon you. But whoso hearkeneth unto me shall dwell safely, and shall be quiet from fear of evil.
CHEAP VIAGRA!
April is the cruellest month
Never guh a store ah night fuh buy black cloth.
One of these days is none of these days.
A baby is an alimentary canal with a loud voice at one end and no responsibility at the other.
As useful as a chocolate fireguard (or teapot)
A crowd is not company.
A spy with flatulence will always blow his cover.
Home sweet home
Excess of ceremony shows want of breeding
What we see depends mainly on what we look for
In Gates we trust.
Past cure, past care
Better to light a candle than to curse the darkness
He knows best what good is that has endured evil
There is always somebody worst of then yourself no matter how bad things seem
Love sees no faults.
Love nature , live lightly
It is good to be knowledgeable, but better to be lovable
The difficult we do at once, the impossible takes a little longer
The man who removes a mountain begins by carrying away small stones

Amazing. Lessons of life from a robot that wants your man to have a better erection.

Oh, my.

2006-05-19T10:03:00.000+12:45

So. Cricfic, eh? Because I've always wanted to read slashy goodness about McCullum and Bond.

I'm not sure whether to cringe or laugh. Why, Shane, I've always loved that shirt on you. Or off you. RAWR.

Procrastinate, procrasinate!

2006-05-19T09:53:00.000+12:45

Of all times to not be doing one's work, surely the best is in your last spare quarter hour before you have to spend the day running around appeasing lecturers, supermarket shopping, and then giving the talk you are procrastinating about writing.

And just think, yesterday I was having a tantrum because I couldn't do my work, and now I just don't want to.

Whoever is in the bathroom (it's Mystery Girl, who needs a name, dammit!) needs to get out so I can brush my teeth! My wonderful plan for this morning ended before it began, because just when I was about to leap out of bed, G-Money stole the bathroom and occupied it for ages, and I couldn't get out of bed and start work without showering because I was sleeping in summer pj's because my winter pairs both are still drying, and this is a really long sentence.

Ah, the wonders of not doing one's work

2006-05-18T17:51:00.000+12:45

I'm not quite sure why I'm so averse to the idea of transcribing an interview, but since Sunday I've been avoiding it like the plague. Which is stupid of me, really, since I need the info from it in order to write a report, for which I still need to do research. Oh well, I've got until Monday.

I should not be allowed to study at university. I am a bad person. A bad, undermotivated person who is filled to the brim with apathy. I should be screaming in frustration at my workload. I should be cursing my lecturers for making every thing so user-friendly. I should be kicking slippers across the room.

No, wait, that's not me...

But the point remains. I am a 3rd-year student in a reasonably complex discipline, close to the end of my second-to-last (penultimate, even) semester (I tried 'trimester' and I just couldn't do it), and I'm sitting at my computer eating mallowpuffs.

They should just kick me out now.

Although, I have yet to tell my life story to a students' counsellor in hopes of getting an extension (after the due date, even), unlike some people who's names begin with 'G'...

in which John Travolta is awesome.

2006-05-07T17:01:00.000+12:45

There are not many things that fit the above description. Saturday Night Fever, for example, fails miserably, unless he is dancing. Face/Off is laughable, because I mean, really.

Clearly Nicholas Cage and John Travolta look identical, if all you do is switch their faces. Yes, yes they do. Because they're both all skinny and stuff, and also all big and chunky. All at once. It's magic.

Ahem.

Look Who's Talking, however, is a brilliant, brilliant movie. He's all fatherly and lovely and stuff. It's cute.

Grease is also brilliant, but mostly I just wanted to mention Look Who's Talking. (Only the first one).

Which reminds me. Dawson's father. IMDB would like you to know that John Wesley Shipp is 'a dark and handsome 1980s soap hunk who turned to playing hugely-muscled TV comic strip heroes in the 1990s'.

Isn't that nice.

In reference to the above heading

2006-05-06T19:15:00.000+12:45

There are in fact words. Many of them.

I'm. So. Tired.

2006-05-06T18:00:00.000+12:45

So, what have I done today?

Well, I awoke to the melodious song of the phone ringing. So I ignored it. And so did everyone else.

Later, the phone began to chirp merrily again. It was George's mother. She recognises my voice.
So I gave the phone to George, who was still in bed, and then proceeded to realise my pyjama jacket was not done up. Which could have been embarrassing, had I not with blessed foresight chosen to wear a singlet last night.
Of course one could argue had I not had the singlet I would've noticed the draught.

Anyway. George, I imagine, talked to his mother and hung up, because the phone began to chirp merrily again. It was the Lizard. She wanted someone to come and give her company on a short excursion to the pet store.

Against my better judgement, I fell for it. Three hours later, after a trip to Dressmart, where Wild Pair are having a sale but I did not buy anything, I was nearly home. There was a kitten at Animates that was fighting things. It was cute.

Upon arriving home, I fell immediately upon my Greek. It was something that had to be done. And now, Hesiod is finished with. I only have my other Greek, my two essays and my three seminars to worry about now.

Fuck.

Most of today was crap. On the bright side, someone has made a grassclipping castle with the grass on Appleton Park. I like it.

And on an invisible-flatmate note....I don't know. The Boy Next Door called her the 'hannah-clone' in a text the other day and I didn't know who he meant. Were it not for the fact that she has been here reasonably often lately, I'd go for InvisiGirl or something like that. Why does she have no distinguishing features like the RedHaired Girl? or in-jokes like George? or moustaches like the Lizard? [poor thing.]

It is 3.04pm, and I have yet to do my hair

2006-05-05T15:48:00.000+12:45

Or eat breakfast. What an utter waste of a day.

Mmmmm. Brownie.

I feel there are several things I should be doing. I should probably do them.

Poor George. He has a swollen tongue.

In an update on Figwit, it would appear that the invisible figure of our new flatmate has a video of FOTR. So we watched. We did not see. We were disappointed. We are the Queen.

Invisible figure of our new flatmate needs a name, she does, she does. Possibly one that is slightly more accurate.

Excuse me. I must eat some brownie. It is calling my name. It is a talented wee brownie.

I feel the need to write!

2006-04-24T19:36:00.000+12:45

Write! Write! Write! Words come tumbling out like so many crammed-in tennis balls in a tiny hall cupboard.

I was going to make that little allegory about what comes out of Steff's mouth after one too many wines. Feel grateful that I didn't.

I also feel somewhat stink that I had to look up the spelling for ginormous, only to end up not using it.

Ignoring the fact that I have absolutely nothing of value to write (if I did, I would be putting it in my I&O Psyc report, or possible my 21st thank you cards...), I have completely forgotten what I was going to say when I started this sentence. My encoding system from short-term memory to long-term memory is lacking. Or perhaps it isn't, and I don't actually know anything about memory. It's always possible.

Speaking of knowledge of memory, isn't it fantastic when you get back your answer sheet from a multi-choice test, and answers that you completely guessed were actually correct? We went over our memory tests in labs today, and I got 3 pleasant little surprises (and several big not-so-pleasant ones).

Randon fandom
Have you ever heard of Figwit? Apparently, in The Fellowship of the Ring movie there was this elf being an elf during the council where the Fellowship was formed, an extra elf, just there to fill up space in the background. Apparently some keen observer spotted said elf and decided he was hot. They christened him Figwit, a clever little acronym of 'Frodo is grea... who is that?', because apparently the moment you spot him is just after Frodo bes a good little hobbit and volunteers to shoulder (or neck) the burden of the ring, so you're all happy for Frodo, but then this hot elf in the background grabs your attention and you spend the next 1.5 seconds checking him out before he disappears into oblivion until the final movie. I came across young Figwit about half an hour ago as I was reading G-Money's copy of North and South, which has an article about the actor who played Figwit, such is his popularity. Actually, it's an article about the actor who played Figwit's comedy music duo, Flight of the Conchords, which is apparently rather deliciously humourous, although having never heard them I couldn't possibly pass comment. Anyway, the purpose of this paragraph is not to comment on this most random of fandoms, nor to educate people of the hotness of random extras in ginormous (couldn't let all that effort go to waste) movie series; having seen exactly one picture of Figwit as Figwit, well, he looks like an effeminate Legolas (although Figwit as a normal person is quite decent-looking). No, the purpose of this most ridiculous of paragraphs is to comment on how reading random articles can induce sudden strong desires to see films again. This is particularly anguishing for me as I left home in Hamilton just over 24 hours ago, where my father has in his possession all 3 special edition DVDs of LOTR. Bugger.

In other news, George is making butter chicken for dinner. How surprising.

In other other news, I have discovered the most fantastic of Easter eggs. It is so fantastic I must eat some more of it immediately! It is Terry's Chocolate Orange, and it is in fact, quite literally, a chocolate orange. It's the same size as an orange, it's outside texture looks like an orange, it comes apart in slices like an orange, it tastes like an orange (somewhat), but it's CHOCOLATE!. Could one ask for anything more?

Well, dinner would be nice. Aha! George is announcing dinner, albeit with 'ridiculously creamy rice'. I love it when people start using my words. It makes me feel listened to.

And so to dinner I will go!

Edited to add: It has just occurred to me that we are not the only ones with a George for a flatmate. You know who else has one? Meredith and Izzie (Izzy? Whatever). And their George is so much cooler than ours.

But wait, NSA did get reviewed...

2006-04-22T23:31:00.000+12:45

Well, kind of. During my week in Hamilton, Mum finally got me to clean out the shelf above my bed, home to many a soft toy, and as it happens, far too many Maccas Happy Meal toys (there's probably about 3 trademarks that need to go in there). Hidden amongst the Girls' Brigade camp-decorated flowerpots, I happened to find a stash of paper, including such treasures as 12 pages of notes on some pop music festival in London (personal favourite: "Ronan Keating needs to lose the denim jacket, this is the 3rd time in a row I've seen him performing in it." Ah, how things don't change), some address to a geocities site, possibly involving spreadable cheese, a fantastic wee poem based on the black denim on shattered glass masterpiece (I'm quite impressed at the rhymes - must have been inspired back in the day), and this little start on a review:

Bye Bye Bye
Well, I've got a bit sick of this song, but its [a time before Steff a had proper grasp of the concept of apostrophes] still pretty good. I like the first bit of the chorus [why?]. If you listen to it too much it gets really ... I dunno, tedious. You've all heard it (unless you live under a rock) so I won't go into much detail. Its [my punctuation and general use of grammar really was appalling] really a chart song, not a 'real' piece of music [ever the music snob, no matter how reluctantly]. 7/10

Its [argh!] Gonna Be Me
Like the above, it gets a bit too much, but I really like this song (especially the dance :-) [yeah, I do like the dance]). If you listen to it on karaoke you can hear Justin beat boxing hehe. I like the little keyboard bit during the verses [pisses me off]. Has anyone else noticed during the bridge bit ("It's gonna gonna gonna gonna gonna ... its [!] gonna be me [may]") that there's a sound that sound[s] a bit like a bed creaking? Just wondering. [That sound totally ruined the song for me. If it was on Schizophrenic I'd be inclined to think it was deliberate.] 8/10

Space Cowboy
This is my favourite song on the album. I read this review and these chicks were saying how the rap isn't very energetic, but have you heard her in "Never Be the Same Again" [sic - bleaurrrrrrrrgh] with Mel C? I think JC was REALLY intelligent bringing Lisa Lefteye Lopes [sic] for this. [OK, I feel I may be getting annoying popping up all the time as a square bracket, but what?! Besides the fact that I am obviously a stupid teenager who cannot spell (the worst kind), I do not understand what I wrote. Was I being sarcastic? Did I actually believe JC to be intelligent? Was I applauding his ingenuity of bringing a little street cred to the album? Incidentally, bad taste, but has anyone else noticed that rappers that guest for JC tend to die? Just wondering.] I love the whispering/heavy breathing thing [oh yeah, it's a JC song]. Who did that, by the way? [It was JC.] I can think of a really good dance for this song. 10/10 :-P [Put that tongue back inside your mouth and plant it firmly in your cheek. There, that's better.]

Just Got Paid
Ummmm ... you can hear Lance. [Aaaaaaaaaaahahahahahaaa. I love it.]

So, Mary, there you go. A sample of what the NSA review would have been like. Hours of entertainment.

In other news, this week I almost bought a car, wore a nightie and did me some gardening (not all at the same time). It was all most unusual.

Aaaaaaaaaahahahahahaaa

2006-04-01T01:01:00.000+12:45

I'm a little drunk...I'm very small.

Mary's Greatest Hits

2006-03-20T01:33:00.000+12:45

Well, I was cruising around the *nsyncerator, reading our reviews, and it gave me an idea of what I would talk about. If I were in charge of the greatest hits album, what would I put on?
Let me see.

From the debut album:

According to my original review, every song deserves a place. Particularly such gems as God Must Have Spent and Sailing. However, because I know better now, there is only room for
1. I Want You Back [because I had to.]
2. Here We Go [because I want to.]
and 3. I Drive Myself Crazy [because it's actually good.]

From No Strings:
We never reviewed this, did you know that? Well, from memory, I think I'll give a place to:
4. Bye Bye Bye [for the thrus....tune.]
5. Makes Me Ill [for lack of anything better.]

From Celebrity Celebrity:
Now, this will take careful consideration. I gave some high scores.
6. Celebrity. [because i like it.]
7. Up Against the Wall [because i like it more.]
8. Selfish [because all I want is your love.]

and last but not least, from the Christmas album:
9. O Holy Night [because it's lovely]
10. The Only Gift [because it makes me laugh]

and as a special bonus track:
11. This Is Where The Party's At [just to make sure we know.]

For something that's meant to be the best album, NSA doesn't do very well. I can't believe we never reviewed it. Or Justified. How remiss of us.

Clouds: Patron Goddesses of the Layabouts

2006-03-20T00:48:00.000+12:45

At least, according to Aristophanes. After the mockage the idea of a blog recieved this evening I felt compelled to write something. Of course I have little to say, given I am going nowhere and doing nothing at the moment. We're all turning into a bunch of morons and by the end of the year will hate each other, from hours of being closeted in the living room watching soccer.

Not looking at anyone while I say that, of course.

Not that I don't like soccer. [Yes, I don't.]

Now, having established that, I have nothing to say. I'm talking to George online, and I know you're awake...can see your light under your door. What a sad flat this is. Speaking of which, we need a name for the New Flatmate. also the Boy Next Door is no longer, um, next door. Should we replace that too?

And now, for a mandatory cricketing mention: [heh, MANdatory MENtion...]

Franky. What a man. He amuses me no end.

Much like McCullum. What a little man.

You know what is excellent?

2006-02-01T23:56:00.000+13:45

This is excellent.

Isn't it nice...

2006-01-24T17:22:00.000+13:45

when things work out?

In which Mary has a dilemma.

2006-01-17T00:20:00.000+13:45

The solution for which, thankfully, is out of my hands.
What does one do, when one has a spare room in one's flat, and one's friend is looking for a room, and,on the surface, there is no good reason to refuse them it?

Because, the Boy Next Door being the sweet oblivious lad that he is, may not have noticed that I once had a tendre for him. Probably does not know that my flat has spent the year mocking me about him.

Ah, JC

2006-01-16T23:02:00.000+13:45

I reading a recent interview of his over at dirtypop.net which I would link but I'm not going to cos I'm lazy, and as I read through it I was thinking, "You know, he's actually quite normal." And then he said about the last record he bought: "The Madonna album. I liked it. I think she's dope, and she looks great for 47."

Let it be known that JC thinks Madonna is dope.

Insomnia

2005-12-08T03:59:00.000+13:45

1. It's 3.16 a.m. and I have not come even remotely close to sleeping yet, though not for lack of trying. So I gave up and got the computer back out.

2. Poor Mary. It must get tiring going from site to site. Do you guys have any days off where you just muck about and go to Maccas? Don't worry, I'll make you a lovely brocolli dish when you get home. We've got one sitting in the fridge and no one's eating it because salad is more fun. So when you next see me you can look foward to brocolli! Exciting!

3. More disappointing news. I was going to write it in my last post as the final event of the day, but I forgot. The Beaurepairs Christmas ad had changed! It's got the song in the background, but all Vince Martin does is list the specials. It's just not the same without the cartoon birds.

4. It's really hard to type in the dark.

5. I am dying of coughupmylungitis. Stop coughing! Stop it!

6. It is now 3.25 a.m. I have the feeling I'm not really going to sleep tonight. I mean, I don't even feel tired.

7. The 23rd sounds good by the way, Mary. I can give you your 21st present as well then. The present that I have and know what I'm going to get you and everything.

8. We may be able the do the road trip still. Don't know how much time I get off over Christmas.

9. At a certain point in this post I changed from paragraphs to points. Can you guess when?

10. I need a 10th point, now that I've got this far. Oh yes. Fucking Black Caps. Stop fucking losing!

And now I will go and visit Harry Potter forums, in the hopes that there is something to read. I've already read most of Half-Blood Prince tonight. Plus listened to most of Les Miserables. And it is 3.30. Dammit.

Jeez.

2005-12-07T04:56:00.000+13:45

God, Steff, that sounds scary. Am glad you checked it out. And all was well. But shitting.

And congrats on getting job. Does this mean you, me and Red-Haired Girl won't be able to have road-trip holiday? Disappointing, but congrats.

You applied at Supre? Shame on you.

And what else? Well, we had a lovely 5 star hotel two nights ago, but now we are in the shittest of shithotels that was ever shat. The beds weren't made. Nothing works. We have no TV, but meh. The hot water is....unreliable. The bathrooms aren't clean. The room isn't clean. The water is undrinkable, but that's not their fault, I guess. It's REALLY really noisy and the beds are uncomfortable and we're here for THREE nights.

And then it's on to the Peloponnese and the joy of a new hotel every night. I want to go back to Aghios Nikolaos and the Hermes Hotel!

I'm tired of travelling. I want to come home. And I'm tired of being disappointed.

First complaint , we missed out on a whole bunch of stuff cos of the fucking bus. Then, my big christmas, which was going to have HEAPS of people, dwindled to my family. Now, my little brother's not coming. Lots of people forgot my birthday. [But the Boy Next Door remembered. He was the only one of the guys.] I didn't really have a 21st. I know I was given the surprise one but it's not the same thing.

I'm just tired, I guess. And miserable. And lacking in vegetables. I WANT BROCCOLI. AND LETTUCE. AND ANYTHING BUT GODDAMN TOMATO AND CUCUMBER. I just want some normal food! And a bed I can sleep in. And sleep I can have, without the FUCKING party-ers staying up ALL FUCKING NIGHT and then being woken up at 5 FUCKING AM cos I was too cold and then again at FUCKING 6.30 by the FUCKING CONSTRUCTION WORKERS. What kind of construction worker starts at 6.30? I mean, FUCK. They're in the middle of the FUCKING HOTEL DISTRICT.

I'm cross. Can you tell?

Sigh. Oh, yeah, I mentioned to the Red-Haired Girl, that maybe we'd want to go out to dinner and do Christmas presents when I get back? Like maybe on the 23rd or something, so I can not have jet-lag.

Well, that's it. I hope you're over your fright, and your new job goes well!

Steff's Interesting Day

2005-12-05T23:27:00.000+13:45

Have you ever noticed how all the news-worthy things happen on the same day? I mean, the fact that I got asked to 2 job interviews would have been pretty exciting to me this morning. That fact that one of them was for Supre was just funny (I'm not going to the interview, by the way. No need). The fact that I went to the other one and it went extremely well is very exciting, and I was going to post about it except I didn't want to jinx it. But then I got the job, and it's full-time, and it's office work which means I get to sit down, and I don't have to answer the damn phone either, which is always a nice bonus. So yes, I have employment for the rest of the summer! Yay!

So there I was, being all excited at the prospect of being employed, sitting at my computer contemplating whether to blog (I hadn't officially got the job at this point), when I heard a noise from the kitchen that sounded like the blind flapping against the window. Odd, I thought, as the window was not open. So I went to investigate and didn't see anything. Then I heard the noise again, so I looked out the dining room window and there were 3 kids (teenagers) sitting outside underneath the back porch (which is also under the kitchen window). So I stuck my head out the window so as to enquire as to their intent, and they took off. Now, as I am a moron I thought, hmmm, waggers, hiding out on our property out of sight. So I went to see what they'd been doing, and lo and behold, they were taking out the downstairs toilet window. The little fuckers were trying to break in.

So yes. Police and parents were called, and Dad has replaced the toilet window with the new one that was going to go in there anyway.

Man, I'm so glad they didn't get in. They would have come up the stairs and my room's right there. I don't know what I would have done, cos they wouldn't have had an easy escape. That window's not the biggest of accessways, and the doors were all locked. I'm glad I checked out the noise, cos I'd written it off as my neighbour mucking about in his garage. But it just sounded too close. But surely they must have looked around the entire property to see if garage doors or windows on the deck were open, and my bedroom looks out onto the deck and the driveway, and I didn't see anything. And if they tried any of the doors I didn't hear that either. It's creepy. But actually, when I think about it, I think I'd have been alright if I caught them inside. I didn't panic while they were here, I was just pissed off. I only got upset when I called Dad and had to say it out loud (it happens to me. Expressing my anguish makes me cry).

So yes, that was my interesting day. How was yours?

In which G-Money doesn't make sense.

2005-12-05T05:10:00.000+13:45

Ahem.

I had a birthday on the 28th. G-Money forgot it.

G-Money emailed me on the 29th, to tell me about his new girlfriend, and did not mention it.

I emailed back and said "thanks for remembering my birthday."

He said "Sorry, Mary-ie. Couldn't do it from work. Couldn't do it from home. Couldn't email you at all till now."

Spot small flaw in this story?

It's okay that he forgot. He could just own up to it.

Where have all the boppers gone?

2005-12-03T23:36:00.000+13:45

Does anyone remember teenyboppers? What happened to them? Do they still exist, or are they all tweens these days? Possibly patrons of Supre (I applied for a job there yesterday...), 48 May appreciators (though I think they're out of fashion now) or merely The Youth?

It's a scary thought to not be counted as part of The Youth. I may be youthful, but I'm an adult. Or a student. Not a Youth.

Youth is a funny word. It rhymes with tooth.

You know what was great about Harry Potter & the Goblet of Fire (v. Movie)? The complete absense of blast-ended skrewts, SPEW, and house elves in general. I hate house elves. Except Kreacher. He was cool. He had personality. Not like fucking Dobby...

You know what sucked, though? The floo scene with Sirius in the fire. I'm sure that's not what it's supposed to look like. Oh, and the dragon fight/flight was completely overdone. The lake was cool though.

The best bit was Snape preparing to enforce study on Ron & Harry during prep. Only Alan Rickman could make rolling up his sleeves so entertaining.

I don't want to go to bed. Going to bed would mean shutting down my computer, getting off my bed to put it away, leaving my room to hang up my towel, returning to my room, turning off the light and stumbling to my bed. And I'm too lazy. Even if I am completely bored and slightly sleepy (especially my right foot, which has pins and needles).

But seriously. Teenyboppers. Where are they?

Live from Crete

2005-11-26T06:10:00.000+13:45

Well, I was going to write a group email to the world, but instead I thought I'd just write it here, and then transfer bits. Or something. I already sent an email today, so another one can wait till tomorrow. Or the next day. Or something.

So, Crete. And what we did today. And yesterday.

Is warm.
Is cleaner.
Went to Harry Potter.
Marvelled at the Weasley Boys and their one moment of attractiveness.
Was rather shocked at Cedric.
Ralph Fiennes has no nose!
Jason Isaacs has a nice voice.
Theatre was odd. Nice, but odd. And only had one ladies toliet.
Oooh, A Whiter Shade of Pale.
Alan Rickman also has a nice voice.
Then we went home. I had icecream for dinner.
It was nice.
Went to Heraklion/Iraklion museum today.
Am sick of museums. It was not fun.
Went to Knossos. First to Villa Ariadne [only from outside] and learnt about history of dig site, then to Little Palace, and was interesting, and Unexplored Mansion, which has in fact been explored, and it was interesting.
Went to Knossos palace site, was like theme park or diorama, rather than actual archaeological site. Was odd. Like being inside diorama, yes. Or one of those books with cutaway pages. All partially restored.
Went on random bus ride. Almost got killed crossing road.
Went shopping. Bought chocolate.
Went to net cafe. Was full. Went to other net cafe.

Stephie, I miss home. Well, no, I don't miss home. I miss the people. This trip would be so much better with you and G-Money and Wonderboy and George and everyone along. We so have to come here again. It's lovely. And there are actually one or two attractive men here! Unlike Athens, where there are none.

G-Money emailed me and told me he was going to get some this weekend. Isn't he charming?

What do you want from over here, btw? Jewellery, tacky souvenir, ouzo? I don't know what to get you or The Red-Haired Girl. Or the Lizard come to that. I've got G-Money an icon, and George the Mini porn cards. I have too many damn people to get something for!

Lol. I just realised what an interesting lead-in I had to that question. G-Money's gonna get some. What do you want? Sorry. Was not intentional.

In other news, Fleming had a tumour! It was benign, but still. Fleming!

I was going to post

2005-11-24T20:43:00.000+13:45

But there's been a change of plan so I must type faster than originally planned. Coach is leaving a half hour earlier. So must hurry! Ah!

Teehee

2005-11-21T19:06:00.000+13:45

What do you call a fish with no eyes?

A fsh.

Matthew McConaughey has been named the sexiest man alive by People Magazine.

2005-11-17T19:32:00.000+13:45

Why?

Amusing headline of the day

2005-11-15T14:37:00.000+13:45

"Man robs station armed with hoe".

Ho ho ho.

Our piano tuner is scary. How can somebody know so much about an instrument just by looking at it?

Interesting fact: John Savident, who plays everybody's favourite butcher Fred Elliot, was the original M. Firmin in Phantom of the Opera.

Oram's hair is really quite ridiculous. He looks like Byron wearing a blonde!JC wig.

Isn't it always the way...

2005-11-15T13:03:00.000+13:45

As soon as somebody becomes completely inaccessible for 5 weeks, all the in-jokes pop up. There's so many things I want to tell Mary, such as Jacob Oram's got the world's stupidest hair style, and McCullum!'s on the cover of a magazine entirely devoted to NZ cricket. I listen to Schizophrenic and have the mad desire to text random comments, but nooooooooo, her bloody phone's out of range. So instead, I will post here. All I really wanted to do was comment on Oram's hair, anyway. It really is stupid.

Oh, and it's nice to see Mary got to somewhere overseas safely. Have fun!

Oh, and also, it amuses me that G-Money's mother's attempts to marry him off appear to be working. This is a fortunate thing, because G-Money really does need a girlfriend.

Running from the Manfully Hairy Cowboy

2005-11-02T09:54:00.000+13:45

Ah, fun with random title generators.

And fun with random story generators.

It was a dark and overcast night at Clydesdale-Colt Peacemaker Manor. Lord Clydesdale-Colt Peacemaker's gaze followed the slim body of the nubile young chit who stood before him. She wanted in trepidation.
'What is your name, little one?' he squealed.
'kitty,' she screamed. Her limpid azure eyes clung to his face like a persistent jellyfish, soft yet stinging.
As he gazed at her, a burning sensation shot from his groin to his lung. It may have been TB, but he doubted it. The finest whores in the land had tried their wiles on him, but all had failed. He was far too cynical about women after seeing his mother betray his father time after time again, the pale jade. But this girl's innocence touched him in unexpected ways. His gaze dropped to her pouting ruby eyes.
'Well, kitty,' he sneered, 'I believe you will get exactly what you were looking for!' With those words, his hands shot out and pulled her to him. She giggled in dismay, but her protest soon turned into sighs of pleasure as he ravaged her soft, unpracticed mouth. He ground his hard, aroused body against her hips. He heard her give a shocked gasp, and she jumped away from his grasp.
'My lord!' she exclaimed. 'Was that your manly... carrot I felt?' She blushed furiously. 'I'm afraid that was most improper of you!'
'Oh my dear,' he purred, 'Before the night is through, you will do a lot more than feel the potency of my man-sausage!'
'alea jacta est,' she cried, before he covered her mouth yet again and overwhelmed her qualms with a melting kiss.

Hours of entertainment. I think I shall call it "The Savage Stud". Or possibly, "The Astonishingly Hirsute Master." Or, "The Alarmingly Virile Rogue."

Broadband

2005-11-01T16:18:00.000+13:45

So, we've used rather a lot of bandwidth in the past month. And the month isn't even up yet. Not until Sunday.

Somebody's been doing some serious downloading. Hmmmm.

Damn those Arab princes and their rampaging genitalia

2005-10-29T17:57:00.000+13:45

".....Because I am a caring, caring friend. And then I changed the subject, because I am a caring, caring friend. This is only possible over email. Otherwise I could tell the Lizard I was being held hostage by an Arabian prince who kept me as his sex slave, and I was having his baby, and she wouldn't listen, even if it WAS true. She'd say, "Oh, that's terrible. You know, it's a bit like when I...." and tell me about her awful experiences going out with one of my brother's friends who was a stoner.

Or something.

And meanwhile I would go away and quietly give birth to my arabian prince's love child, and go live in my harem, and she wouldn't actually notice.

Which is quite amusing really. I'm sure i'm the same.

Example: if G-Money was abducted by an arabian prince....no, I would pay attention in that situation, because it would confirm all my long held beliefs.

these bloody arabian princes -- got no control over their private parts.

[random mind image of well dressed arabian prince a la aladdin being pulled along by rampaging genitalia which has teeth.]"

Ah, rugby players.

2005-10-29T17:50:00.000+13:45

.......Justin Marshall, who is a cross between an angry pornstar called Sparkle and a psychopathic meerkat which is very good at rugby.

It eats!

2005-10-29T17:41:00.000+13:45

Damn you, blogger. I am not writing that post again, because it SAYS it's there. Why can't I see it?

Because it's eaten it. That's why.

Bad blog. BAD.

My goodness I am tired and need to sleep. I have had a busy, busy week. Exam, exam, travel, wedding preparation, wedding, wedding present unwrapping, and now travel again....and then three days of frantic study, then exam. Then I can relax.

Maybe I'll just have a little nap...

it's a nice day for a white wedding

2005-10-29T17:25:00.002+13:45

Well, at least the bride was beautiful.

The three bridesmaids looked hideous. The groomsman were, respectively : Best man, partnered with P, over from England, very nice, slightly odd looking. Groomsman 1, partnered with me!, over from Gold Coast, very funny, fairly good looking. Groomsman 2, a bit of a dick really. And partnered with C.

The groom was nervous and mucked up his vows. The bride giggled all the way up the aisle. Mary giggled when the celebrant read part of the Velveteen Rabbit. "His hair is all loved off..."
And the groom is bald.

There were many photos. Mary is probably blinking in all of them. It took sexy groomsman at least 5 goes to get a decent picture of her and C. [Partly due to flash not going off.]

And yes, that is my exciting wedding story.

No, wait. We went to the wedding in a white stretch limousine! Very swish. We sat there and drank wine.

And in other exciting family news, The Older Brother has brought a girl home for the weekend! Oooooh. She is lovely. They are cute.

It makes me laugh.

What makes me laugh even more is that she's the girl next door. Honestly.

And tell me, Steff, why is G-Money so immature?Well, at least, what's he done now?

Steff waxes philosophical

2005-10-27T18:05:00.000+13:45

You know, I find it interesting that in our flat, the oldest flatmate is the most immature, and the youngest is (debatably) the most mature. Although I could probably give G-Money a run for his money. It's just that I prefer to act my shoe size in other places, such as this blog. I mean, even the title is from a particularly lame joke that makes me giggle every time I think of it. Mary, too, I'll wager. Cos Mary's cool.

How would one express a "blog-fish", I wonder? Would holding the computer under the chin suffice?

What exactly does "wax" mean? I mean, I know it's the stuff that you make stuff out of, and it comes out of your ears, and it's what happens to the moon as it gets fuller, but what about when one waxes lyrical/philosphical/rhetorical? Why wax? Or have I just got my syntactical wires crossed once more?

Can't find a better maaahahahahahnn.

You said it, Eddie. Or, should I say, LUCY!

Yes, I know it's you. You can't hide forever. I'm not sure what you're doing impersonating a credible musician though. JC will never fall for that.

Ah, so many levels...

2005-10-27T16:41:00.000+13:45

I obviously buy my clothes on the basis that they must look like a bruise eating various citris fruits.

You know, I don't think this colour-coordinating thing is particularly healthy for me. Far too much of the inane, and a little overshare.

I apologise.

2005-10-27T16:37:00.000+13:45

I also organise according to quality. Now my nice black underpants are hidden under my giant blue bloomers.

2005-10-27T16:36:00.000+13:45

The real problem is that my underwear isn't colourful enough.

2005-10-27T16:33:00.000+13:45

You see, the problem is that I categorise by function, not colour. For instance, I have 1 pair of fawn stockings and 1 pair of fawn knee-highs, but the same goes for black. And then I also have a pair of black fishnets.

Obviously Steff is not a woman of her word

2005-10-27T16:30:00.000+13:45

So, with what colour would one categorise socks that are multi-coloured?

I don't wear stockings anymore.

One more for good luck...

2005-10-27T16:17:00.000+13:45

I'm going now. I really am. I'm off to colour-coordinate my smalls. And maybe my shirts, should I so desire.

And then I will eat some biscuits.

Because we need to bring it out to air every few months

2005-10-27T16:10:00.000+13:45

Byron: Hi, have you seen any sheep?
Joey: ...................No, I can't say I have.
Byron: I've lost this sheep. It's suspected to be hiding in this neighbourhood. Are you sure you haven't seen it? It's a master of disguise...sometimes it's a French maid, sometimes it's a rug.....
Joey: A rug, you say?
Byron: Yeah.
Joey: Well, it just so happens that we do have a rug.
Byron: Where is it? I'll check it out, if you don't mind.
Joey: Well, actually, it's cornered my friend in a room and is tearing his clothes off.
Byron: That's my sheep all right.

And also this little gem from Mary:

Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. Harry is a very sexy man. Especially when you compare him with the lusciousness that is Mark Hamill.

You didn't really think I'd gone, did you?

2005-10-27T16:03:00.000+13:45

From 21 August, 2004:

[Steff rambles on for far too long about her timetable. Anncounces she hates said timetable. Large gap.]

OK, I don't really, but I'm bored and lonely. Everybody's left town except me and my flatmate (who DOESN'T TALK) and I have to entertain myself somehow. Before writing this I was tidying my room.

Funny how a year can do ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to you. I've reorganised my top drawers. Maybe it's time to colour-coordinate my clothes. Because nobody else does that. Nobody at all.

Chris "Jacko" Jack

2005-10-27T15:59:00.000+13:45

It makes me laugh.

I find it vaguely pathetic that I can be so immensely amused by reading about Mary and myself's lives. Especially since I was actually physically there for 80% of it.

Hellooooooo, George

2005-10-27T15:49:00.000+13:45

I just re-discovered who George is. It amuses me.

I really shouldn't ignore him and hide away in my room. It's just that this is so much easier. I may even be inspired to study at some point.

Ha. It's just like a Tui billboard.

Eloquence

2005-10-27T15:38:00.000+13:45

It happens to me sometimes. Good old Easter.

I wish I'd had an English Public School education, followed by a stint at Oxford or Cambridge or wherever respectable ladies from the Upper Classes attend. Then not only would I have an excellent vocabulary, but an excellent accent with which to express it.

Aslan Was Jesus

2005-10-27T14:47:00.000+13:45

I'm pretty sure that's what C.S. was getting at.

*Steff finally acknowledges posts from August*

So, I should be studying for bio. However, I appear to be sitting at my computer, doing nothing of particular constructiveness. G-Money is currently going for the world record of 21-year-olds Who Act Like As Though They're 5 For The Longest Period Of Time Possible, although he did report Fuck You Dudley's naughty car-parking to the authorities, which was amusing.

Cos I'm freeeeeeeeee,
Free-fallin....

The Rock is liking their Tom Petty today. Is this Tom Petty? I think it is.

Wellington morning traffic sucks. Bloody people driving to work. Take the bus, you pansies.

I feel I am blatantly and uncreatively procrastinating. I should write a haiku or something. Or not.

It amuses me at the end of the wonderful Viscount Vagabond that the guy has been all "Dash it all, confound it, I am not a sentimental chap, I am a drunkard" all the way through, and then as soon as girl says "Oh Max, I love you with all my heart!" he suddenly turns into a tender-hearted WWII soldier and confirms this abrupt announcement by asking "Really, my darling?" or something to that effect. He says "Darling", anyway, which shouldn't amuse me but it does. It just didn't flow. I think you have to read it to know.

I really should read something of intellectual substance. My reading over the past twelve months has consisted of Gone with the Wind, Scarlett, Harry Potter x6, Mansfield Park, a couple of random Mills and Boon, and that lovely book mentioned above. Oh, and something by Mauve Binchey or however you spell her name.

At least I'm reading, I guess. And if you count all the compulsory and non-compusory readings for class and various assignments, that's quite a few words. Plus all the Salients, Dominion Posts and, ahem, Women's Days. I know that sentence is puntuationally incorrect, but italics are a pain in Blogger.

I cannot type. Time to take up that old piano again. That old piano that I have. And am strong enough to take up. With pins and a sewing machine. Should just take it up to Karori to the drycleaner's. It'd be easier, and probably cheaper.

Moving right along...

Mary is going to a wedding! I want to go to a wedding! Weddings are fun. Awwwww.

This was going to be an introspective and retrospective post on the phenomenon that was *NSYNC; however that may have to wait for a new post.

And now to publish this and wait for it to disappear into cyberspace, never to be seen again...

A Simile.

2005-09-25T13:59:00.000+12:45

So the gallant Odysseus crept out from under the bushes, after breaking off with his great hand a leafy bough from the thicket to conceal his naked manhood. Then he advanced on them like a mountain lion who sallies out, defying wind and rain in the pride of his power, with fire in his eyes, to hunt the oxen or the sheep, to stalk the roaming deer, or to be forced by hunger to beseige the very walls of the homestead and attack the pens. The same urgent need now constrained Odysseus, naked as he was, to bear down upon these gentle girls.

jump. JUMP. might as well jummmp...

2005-09-05T11:28:00.000+12:45

Don't worry, am listening to Van Halen, not contemplating suicide. Need to learn to spell, wrote com instead of con, what a retard.

I love this song. It is cheerful and upbeat.

I am tired.

I scared Wonderboy by sending him a random drunken text saying I was sad. He texted me back this morning asking why, and I said because of too much wine, and something a boy said. He said boys tend to think with something other than their brains, and I should randomly text him whenever I wished.

What a nice boy he is. I freaked him out, heheheheh.

I should be doing my geometry homework, but I don't want to. It's too hard.

Well, I will stop, and go and finish my assignment, in spite of its hardness.

Ah, La Tribu du Dana...

le vent souffle sous le plein
de la Bretagne Amoricane...I can't keep up, never mind.

I am writing my essay, I am I am.

2005-08-23T17:26:00.000+12:45

I am lying, I am I am.

I must write it, I must I must.

I must write another 1064 words, I must I must.

I must stop repeating myself, I must.

I will do my essay now, I trust.

After this haiku:

Essays are not fun
The greek is hard, the thoughts,
they are hard to find.

The Tale of the Evil Door of Doom, and other stories.

2005-08-23T15:44:00.000+12:45

Once upon a time, there was a girl called Mary, and she was incredibly inept.

So she bumped into the sliding door, and it fell off its slider and, had the hallway been wider, would have landed on the poor timid dog.

As it was it hit the wall.

Bit like the ad, really. Door obviously hadn't been eating its Molenberg. I would've done a TM there, but couldn't figure out how.

Went to the library yesterday, and rented a fabulous book [rented? that sounds odd, but I mean, it's what you do.] called The Defiant One. In which Andrew de Montefort (hereinafter referred to as The Defiant One) is a scientist, or an inventor if you will, who has been a bit loopy ever since he fell out of a tall building while testing his flying machine and simultaneously escaping from a fire. Anyway, the, sorry, The Defiant One accidentally creates an aphrodisiac - oh, by the way, this is an historical romance - which the immensely unattractive yet at the same time incredibly beautiful and insanely wealthy and intelligent heroine Lady Celsina Somebody challenges herself to drink. So scratch intelligent, actually.
So The Defiant One and Lady Intelligent with a dog fetish (it would seem), have rampant sex, and then of course they have to get married, but they don't want to. So they have more rampant sex, and then The Defiant One's scheming but nice older brother The Wicked One tricks them into marriage. And then they live happily ever after, after The Wicked One, whose real name is Lucien, Duke of Blackheath, has killed Celsie's scheming and evil stepbrother Gerald.

I can just feel my braincells rotting. How marvellous.

Wow, this has been around for a while.

2005-08-17T10:27:00.000+12:45

If you go down to the archives, we have stuff from 2003! I didn't realise.

So, stuff.
I miss my curtains.

I have to write an essay.

I have to study for geometry.

I have to vacuum. and sweep floors. and vacuum some more.

I have been reading the lion,the witch and the wardrobe. Aslan is Jesus. I swear it's a big giant allegory. Also have been reading Prince Caspian. This one is more an English Civil War, I think.

well, it worked.

2005-08-16T15:58:00.000+12:45

it looks pretty shit though. must see if i can do something about that.
not sure if the font's giant cos of this computer or if it's the coding.

codeing? coding. silly word.

Will it work?

2005-08-16T15:52:00.000+12:45

Let's see, shall we?

2005-07-03T02:37:00.000+12:45

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck me, my feet hurt.

So, went to town tonight to watch the rugby. Mary and Lizard got into arguement with big wanker with bigger voice. All Blacks won. Daniel Carter legend. Danced in Cuba Mall - Mary with random (hehe). Listened to Odessa. Tried to find taxi home. Got sleazed on. Decided to wait for after midnight bus. Bus fucking full. Became sober driver to random next to us and took his car home. Safeness.

Fuck me, my feet hurt. I hate my boots. Fuuuuuuuuuuck.

Details may be filled in as time goes by, but for now I am off to bed, because, fuuuuck me, my feet hurt.

2005-05-10T00:46:00.000+12:45

Other people's opinions.
Was talking to the Great Ginga of Classics [hereinafter referred to as GGC] today and was interesting to hear his impressions of various party-goers. For example:

G-Money: Camp, but heterosexually so.

Seamus: Wanted to know if he was gay.

The Crotch: [this nickname is appropriate on so many levels] he was quite harsh on, thought he was a chauvinist bastard and I could do much better.

GGC and Thumbelina both approve of Wonderboy.

Was an interesting discussion really. GGC reminds me of the Lizard. I think they would deal nicely together. Except, apparently, he is not currently looking. Which, given his best pick up line is:

'Are you ready for GGC's hot beef injection?'

is probably a good thing.

Going back to Wonderboy, I am feeling unclean, as That Red-headed Girl sent me a whole slew of photos of him fixing the WonderSuzuki. It frightens me how fat my gut is. [I am in some of the pictures]. And that I have these photos.

Was that not a marvellous use of nicknames? I am proud.

2005-05-06T11:16:00.000+12:45

High on the hills was a lonely goatherd...

My goodness it's a beautiful day today. I would go outside and enjoy it, but

a) i feel guilty for not being at work
b) i feel sick
c) there is a breezy breeze

My mirror has made a rainbow on my wall.

I have nothing much to say. Steff and G-Money are going home for the weekend, and I should like to, for the purpose of seeing my family, and returning the Wonderpillow. Also [by the same constructional logic] the Crotchtoothbrush. [Ergh.]

The Pageboy, who I daresay has a name that I've forgotten, much like I did with Igor, Seamus and Georg(e). mentioned that the Ego-child is interested in coming down in a couple of weeks. Provided no-one has exams then [or they are very quiet] i think this is an infinitely acceptable
idea.

Also provided Wonderboy comes again, as I think he needs to have more fun in his life. I think he and Violinplaying MarineBiologist need to live closer together.

On that wise and life-organising note, I'm going to do something productive.

2005-04-26T00:49:00.000+12:45

It just gets better and better.

Mary's torch just died, so they've stolen my extension cord and plugged G-Money's halogen bedside lamp in.

It would be amusing if it wasn't so sucky. Poor Mary.

2005-04-26T00:26:00.000+12:45

ANZAC Day: A day for remembering those who died for our freedom...

Or, if you live in our flat, a day of extreme oddness, culminating (is that the appropriate word?) in G-Money, Mary and George standing outside in the cold darkness tapping putty out of Mary's window because she locked herself out of her room.

Don't you love landlords who don't fix door knobs?

So, today, G-Money bought a car. G-Money, Mary, Seamus and myself went out for brunch to celebrate. Seamus had a nervous breakdown because he hadn't brushed his teeth. We went to The Warehouse in Kilbirnie (massive. MASSIVE. Freaking huge, in fact) and bought many a heater, plus a few assorted items such as an X-Men colouring-in book. We came home. We went to Porirua. We came home again. I made pumpkin soup for dinner. G-Money and myself went to church to practise the Wedding Song of Doom. Steff became strangely optimistic. G-Money, however, become ever so slightly stressed and needed KFC to calm his nerves, poor dear (hambeast), so on the return trip to the flat he ate his coleslaw while steering with his knees and I changed the gears. And then he and Seamus stole a dishwasher. And then Mary locked herself out of her room, which brings us to where we are now.

God defend New Zealand. Lord knows us fucking morons can't do it.