flow of consciousness

A whistlestop tour

2011-11-08T03:03:00.003+13:00

In case anything in the last two posts suggested otherwise, I want to be really clear. I am LOVING India. I'm covered in flea and mosquito bites, I'm sunburnt, I've been sick, last night I narrowly avoided snuggling up to sleep with a leech and a mouse just ran over my foot. And I am as happy as a pig in shit (and I've seen heaps of them here too).

So in no particular order below are some of the highlights that have made this trip incredible so far.

1. Arriving in New Delhi and instantly loving it. I'm not going to lie, I was worried that I'd find India a bridge too far and overwhelming. Not the case. Hurray for that.
2. Getting to spend lots of quality time with old, old, old buildings. I miss old buildings. A Lot. I've had enough of a top up to keep me going for a few years now. The Taj was an expected highlight but the Amber Fort in Jaipur was also incredible and the temple complex at Khajuraho was gob smacking (and not just the dirty bits).
3. The friendly, charming, funny people we've met. I'd definitely say we've met more in the South than we did in the North but generally, people outside the tourist industry everywhere have been smiley, chatty and fascinated by our lives. Special shout out to Salim who made our 6 hour trip to Munnar hoon by by asking a million questions and telling me all about his life.
4. Two days on a backwater boat in Kerala. Possibly the most relaxing thing I've ever done in my life; and after the madness of Delhi, Jaipur, Agra and Varanassi it was perfectly timed.
5. I'm not going to bang on about the food again. It's incredible. Especially if you're vegetarian. The end.
6. How cheap it is to travel here. You can see amazing things, eat well, sleep comfortably and travel in style on a very small amount of money compared to most other countries.
7. Driving around tea plantations and waterfalls today with a chatty, helpful driver who pulled out all stops to help us get the next bit of the journey sorted.
8. Getting to travel with me auld mate Kez. Can't believe it's taken us decades to do this!

Verynasty

2011-11-08T02:00:00.008+13:00

So every silver lining has a cloud right? And the stinky, noisy, piss soaked, shit filled, brass-freaking-band playing, unfriendly cloud of India for me was Varanasi.

BIG DISCLAIMER: This is absolutely only my opinion (and Kerry's to be fair). I have met heaps of other travelers who loved Varanasi. Some considered it their absolute highlight. Clearly none of them have a sense of smell but I'm not one to judge.
(freaks)

We really, really wanted to go to Varanasi. So much so that when Diwali passenger loads meant we couldn't get a train from Agra we rearranged our entire travel plan and spent some extra dollars on a flight to make it work. So it's not like we didn't plan to like Varanasi, it just didn't work out for us.

Varanasi and Damascus are currently having words over which is the oldest city in the World. But every single person in India will tell you categorically that it's Varanasi. So it's to be expected that it's not going to be shiny and new. But in our walk from the tuk tuk to our hostel, I counted five types of feaces on the footpath. Now this might not sound like the funnest version on 'eye-spy' I could be playing but when the footpath is the about half a foot wider than your ruck sack and literally smeared with shite, you keep an eye out.

But this is the stuff you're absolutely expecting when you plan a trip to India. What you're not expecting is, for example, a brass band to start up under your window/flyscreen at 2 am and play for four hours. And not even a GOOD brass band. The dude on trumpet was clearly a brass virgin and/or had some kind of rodent living in his mouthpiece.

You're expecting the Ganges to be polluted (apparently 1.5 million particles of shit per litre when it should only be 500 according to the WHO and I'd like to have some words with them about that much even!)and have lots of floating material. You're not expecting for one of the floating bits to be a toothbrush you've just seen someone throw in. After they finished BRUSHING THEIR TEETH in the water.

You're expecting touts to try to get you to their silk shop, take their sight seeing tour, get in their boat. You're not expecting them to follow you for miles relentlessly asking you, telling you blatant lies in the attempt to divert you or materialise for the first time at your table while you have breakfast and reveal they've been monitoring your every move and can tell you what you've been doing for the last three hours.

You're expecting all kinds of spirituality and religious exhibitions - this is why you came to Varanasi. What I wasn't expecting - and I suspect this is at the heart of it and why I include the MASSIVE DISCLAIMER - was to be completely unmoved by it. I am fundamentally NOT a spiritual person. I'm an atheist, I don't believe in life after death or reincarnation, I'm really quite cynical about westerners in particular who've 'found their spiritual path' in India. Lighting candles and setting them afloat- more freaking pollution in an already overwhelmed river. Puja to a variety of Gods at dawn - fine, knock yourself out but if I don't want to stand on the sidelines and gurn at you while you do it, that's my choice. Washing away your bad karma by dunking yourself three times in the Ganges - nice knowing you. You mentlar.

Maybe if I believed in something 'other', the obvious faith of the pilgrims, the boisterous ceremonies and reveling-in-all-things-holy would have helped me to see past all the other stuff. But I don't. So it didn't and Varanasi will always be Verynasty to me.

Formal feedback process

2011-11-08T01:06:00.006+13:00

Well hello there folks and sorry for the delay. But when we've wifi or access to internet we're generally trying to figure out the next bit of the trip. Now that we're almost all the way figured out, I can actually update on some of it.

And in true corporate wanker style I thought I'd do a wee Stop Start Continue on India to give you an overview of what's good, what's bad and what's needed. Here goes.

So hey, India, thanks for making the time to meet and run through your performance to date. There were big expectations set at the start of this process so half way through I thought a little debrief on how we're both doing is in order. You're doing an incredible job and overall I'm delighted with how it's going but I wanted to document a few small things so we both know what we need to work on, and keep doing from here.

India, here are some things that need to stop.
Please stop beeping horns when you are literally three inches from my face. I will jump every time, I will feel like a dick every time, I will say something unladylike. Every time.
Please stop surreptitiously filming and photographing us. We're happy to be in your photos and videos when you ask. Very happy. But it's creepy when we catch you doing it sneakily.
Please stop the hocking. It makes me gag like you would not believe. Which I realise is sort of ironic. If you really, really need to clear your entire respiratory system in one hit, and it seems that you constantly do, please find a soundproof chamber to do it in. And please note, the next table in the restaurant I'm eating Palak Paneer in does not qualify.

India, here are some things that need to start.
Please begin some kind of waste management system. Human, animal, hazardous, recyclable... You name it; You need it.
Please begin a road improvement initiative. I saw someone washing an elephant in a pot hole puddle today. That is absolutely not a joke.
Please consider constructing internet cafes that are bigger than a fridge. Trust me, us foreigners will stick around longer when our noses don't touch the screen and the exhaust fan from the computer isn't melting our toe-nail varnish.

India, this is the nice bit. Which is why we pop it on the end. Here are the things you need to continue.
Please continue creating the most incredible food I have ever had at the most outrageously cheap prices. Two drinks and massive, delicious thallis for $4 today - love your work. I thought I'd get sick of curry every day, up to three times a day. I was deluded beyond all measure. I thought about putting 'add another time in the day for curry' in the Start section.
Please continue to have the best train system for practically nothing in the world. 13 hours in air con for $7.50? That's outstanding - go you!
Please continue to be exactly as diverse, fascinating, beautiful, shocking, funny, friendly, haggley, musical, spiritual, generous and amused by foreigners as you currently are- you've got it just right.

RWC - Day1

2011-11-02T00:49:00.003+13:00

We had agreed that there were two major things we wanted to do in New Delhi. See the Red Fort an find somewhere to watch the Rugby World Cup Final. There's something ironic about two Irish girls, who until recently didn't give a shite about rugby, watching the final in India, where they still really, really don't. Ker and I were pretty confident that the All Blacks going to romp pretty conclusively to victory and we'd probably got used to being in the vast majority. So when it started to get a bit borderline and we were surrounded by French supporters it was pretty freaking tense and that final offside call was the most relieved I've felt in ages.

The staff, in what is generally a blues bar and restaurant, seemed completely bewildered by our level of excitement. When we asked that they consider switching off Billie Holliday and turn on the commentary it created some consternation. But the Manager was incredibly accommodating even though it meant pulling the PA out of it's housing to muck around with cables. Still, that didn't stop them from accidentally switching to the cricket at one point. Pretty much the whole bar made their feelings clear at that point and it switched back pretty quickly.

And the French cleared out pretty quickly once the final whistle was blown - nice!

Diwali - Day 4

2011-11-02T00:39:00.008+13:00

Would you look at that - we've finally made it to freaking India. After years of talking about it, planning it, speculating about daily budgets, culture shock and Delhi Belly we're here. And yet again I'm reminded that when I travel, I'm like the dog in the dog's diary thing. Everything I see, do, taste and experience is my new favourite thing. Obviously I love being on holiday, having an agenda set pretty much entirely by me and not having to do the dishes for a month. But I also love the constant newness, encountering something utterly foreign, figuring out different money, researching for months and yet still being surprised by how little I know about certain places and cultures and negotiating different mores and methods of communication. And India give you all of that stuff in SPADES. And it's all my new favourite thing.

So four days in the highlights are many and I've already taken hundreds of photographs and eaten some of the nicest things I ever have (no sign of DB yet) and I'm sure there's plenty more of all of that to come.

Today is Diwali (The Festival of Lights and Hindu equivalent of Xmas Day). As a first timer it's hard to know what Delhi, Jaipur and Agra would be like on a normal week but they're pretty fun, noisy and crazy busy this week. The scrum to get into the general sleepers on the Jaipur-Agra train was pretty incredible (Ker and I were in allocated seats so it was much easier at our part of the train). Last night we sat on a relatively peaceful rooftop (imagine 1,000 voices shouting, a 100 horns honking and massive rockets going off every few seconds - but 50 metres further away than they have been for the last eight hours) and looked down over strings of tinsel and fairy lights and across at intermittent, random fireworks and I for one was pretty stoked with our timing of the trip. It was a shame to miss the RWC final in Auckland and associated party but I think Diwali at the Taj might be about to put that in perspective. Standby for confirmation.

Don't shop at Noel Leeming

2010-09-17T16:42:00.001+12:00

It’s rare that I pull out the spam but this level of customer service deserves it. So I’m shouting about it far and wide. Hope it’s not too intrusive in your day.

I’ve just applied for some funds for a car loan which I’m please to say was approved. With one condition. Apparently I have a Baynet Default for $90 with Noel Leeming. Now that’s not a lot of money but I am absolutely FASTIDIOUS about paying bills on time and keeping a clean credit record.

Since arriving in NZ I’ve bought an iPod, laptop, set of F&P dishdrawers, a smeg oven and rangehood with Noel Leeming amongst other bits and pieces. So I’ve spent about $10k and various bits of it have been on finance of one kind or another, generally underwritten by GE. So I called GE and they assured me that I’d always been a perfect payer, always on time, often paid up early. So I contacted the folks at Noel Leeming itself. And it seems that what happened was that I had overlooked the fact that they are a bunch of lazy, moronic wankers.

You see about a year ago my laptop broke. Now it had a three year warranty on it but apparently that didn’t cover the screen, which was the broken part. (Oh yes, the top half of the laptop – I can see why that wouldn’t be covered. Makes total sense. If you’re a cock.)

Anyway, it wasn’t covered so they offered to send it away for assessment. They did tell me there’d be a fee for that even if I didn’t opt to get it fixed. Really? Seems stupid but sure ok then, knock yourselves out. When they quoted me for fixing it was in excess of buying a new one (no no, that’s not an evil scam at all, that makes more total sense. If you’re a cock).

So I opted not to fix it and honestly forgot all about it for MONTHS. I eventually went in to pick it up about four months later and the sales clerk just handed it over. I had no memory of the assessment fee and the sales clerk never asked me to pay it before he handed over my (still broken) laptop and let me go on my way. At no point did any buzzers go off. There was no Trainspottingesque dash from a security guard as I made off with my unpaid-for-goods. No parcel of red dye exploded over me as I strolled to my car and drove away.

But it seems at some stage someone did remember about it and instead of calling me (on the number they absolutely had because they’d needed that to let me know they couldn’t fix my lap top and the warranty didn’t cover it and “blah blah we’re a bunch of cocks”) they sent a bill to the last address they had for me, (which I haven’t lived at for YEARS) and then listed me on Baynet. When the credit controller who I spoke to today asked me why I hadn’t updated my address, I pointed out that since I had no account with them I didn’t think I needed to. In the same way that when I buy a book at Whitcoulls I don’t insist that they update my details in case they should later decide I should have paid more for that book and want to write me a letter.

Anyway naturally they have the power because that’s how these things work and so I have paid the bloody $90. They will update my record to say it’s been paid but it will continue to be on my record for five whole years. Now that it’s paid ANZ can lend me the money for the car. Once I send them proof that it’s been paid.

Ah yes. Proof that it’s been paid. Perhaps I should have thought of that before I made my Pay Anyone payment out to 'Noel Fucking Leeming' at the account name 'Cunts' with the pay anyone reference of 'You are MORONS'

Anyway the point is – don’t shop at Noel Leeming.

Happy weekend folks.

Mousemobile

2010-08-31T16:38:00.002+12:00

The other week Andrew and I were driving around Aucks when I opened my glove compartment and a strange sight awaited me. Lots of tiny bits of paper and shredded tissue and some strange brown gravelly stuff.

Andrew: Um, I think you have a mouse…living in your car…let me check… yep, that’s defo mouse poo in your glove compartment next to all of the tiny bits of paper. That’s what mice do when they’re making a nest.
Lorraine: Are you freaking kidding me??? Where? How did it get in? Where is it now? Sweet freaking mother of JESUS.
Andrew: Chill out, it’s just a tiny little mouse and it’s probably splattered in your cam belt by now… blah blah blah

At this point he offers to taste the poo to see how old it is. I think this was a joke.

What follows is more “I’m a vet and tough guy and have no concerns about a tiny little mouse, so this is actually quite funny and I am going to make lots of jokes rakking you up about having a mouse infested car, which let’s face it is a little bit skanky until you say….”
Lorraine: Well I think if it is building a nest it’s probably going to be enjoying all of your lovely warm ski gear that’s been in my boot for a week since we picked it up from your Mum’s barn out on your farm… that you commented smelled a little bit mousey….hey…actually….
Andrew: Balls.

So we open the boot of my car and start pulling out his ski gear (well he does, I’m slowly inching away until I’m eventually about ten feet from the car). Jacket –intact. Trousers – intact. Brand new ski boots that he bought last season and only actually wore about ten times…uh oh. He opens the box and there are a million little bits of paper and material, stuff that looks like foamy stuffing… the kind of thing that you might use to stuff the insert bit of a ski boot. He lifts the boot out and it is STUFFED with bits of straw and paper and leaves. Basically a mouse nest. He starts pulling it all out and out scampers a little grey mouse and off it bolts under my car. His ski boot is RUINED. Poos.

Months ago I did a ‘winter warmers’ promo for work where we gave booksellers who took a certain selection of books hot chocolate and toffee pops. I got a bit extra so there were about seven packs in the back of my car. The little fecker took a bite out of every single one. That mouse is going to be in need of a dentist at some stage soon. So it had been living in my car, hooning around Aucks, fine dining on Toffee Pops and doing little tours of the car by night before snuggling up in it’s lovely warm ski boot at the end of the night. Ah bless. Stuart Little move the hell over! Little bleeder.

But that's not the end of the story. Oh no.

Turns out it was MICE not MOUSE and there was car swapping and dismantling and all kinds of shenanigans before we concluded that the second little guy must have bailed at some stage because all of the food was gone gone gone from the car apart from the bait in the traps but that was/is untouched.

At least I'm hoping s/he escaped and isn't dead of tooth decay and cholesterol down the back of the passenger seat or similar.

Although my car does go back to the dealership in November so maybe it's not such a big deal either way....

Yes yes it's been a while blah blah blah

2010-08-31T13:51:00.006+12:00

Phew. Glad we got that out of the way.

Well what's happened since April?

HEAPS.

Loads of really big stuff. But if you know me well enough to care you'll know all the important stuff. So if you don't know me well enough to care or you already know the big stuff what you'll actually want is the little funny things.

Here are some little / funny things that I will elaborate about in the coming weeks:

1 My (late model, reasonably flash and all-too-importantly COMPANY) car had mice
2 My house nearly exploded
3 I met my brand new nephew and he's a freaking genius/superstar/the most beautiful child in the world

Genetic

2010-04-21T11:12:00.006+12:00

There's a phrase we use in Ireland that I really love but don't get to use enough because no one understands it in NZ. When you're talking about a person who has a similar trait or mannerism to their parents you say 'Well he/she didn't lick that up off the stones'. Like it's a virus or some kind of bacteria.

I'm not sure why I love it but I do.

Anyway this morning my Mum emailed me and my two sisters about my trip home later this year. Below is an extract:

Have been out practically every night since that mad bitch Mary arrived. So far we have had two 5.30am sessions, and one 6,30am. The birds were singing and it was daylight when we were getting to bed. She was supposed to be going home yesterday, but due to the volcano she obviously couldn't. Just made a booking for her to go home and the earliest flight is next Wednesday
the 28th I will be offline for some time after that, because by then I will be booking in for my liver transplant. The only good thing is that we are now both penniless, so maybe my liver detox can start, and maybe my own liver can regenerate itself.

I think that tells you everything you need to know about my genetic make up.

Weekends

2010-03-29T14:59:00.003+13:00

I had the best weekend. Although I did have one of those hangovers that makes you want to kill yourself for not realising that shots of whiskey are never, ever a good idea.

Next weekend I will be at a lake engaging in watersports. I have yet to find a watersport I don't enjoy so this should be fun. Hopefully it will be warm fun and not windy, cold, rainy fun. Although that's the kind of fun that can also involve books. I like books too. It is, of course, my job to like books (and make other people like books) but that's not something I have to work hard at.

So, since a few peeps have asked me recently what books they should read, below are some of my picks form the last twelve months or so:

Cutting for Stone
The Solitude of Prime Numbers
The Selected Works of T S Spivet
The Night Book
The Blasphemer
Small Wars

You should read them next weekend.

End of Summer

2010-03-24T18:15:00.005+13:00

Summer is sort of sputtering to an end in NZ. The nights are chilly, the weather is unpredictable. I came to work today in trousers, a top and a denim jacket. By 9.00 I'd taken off the jacket because it was sweltering and I haven't put it back on since. But it's rained a fair bit.

Why am I talking about the weather? Why am I giving you information you can get more succinctly via the met service? Well I'm making the point that it's that funny interim point of the year where your hair style, clothes, shoes and transport plans for the day need to be constantly amended in line with what is currently happening at that very second. Distracting.

Also that as we approach one of the bestest weekends of the year (Easter - it's an extra long weekend at the very end of the summer when no one feels obliged to be doing family stuff so everyone can do pretty much exactly what they like), I'm constantly looking for weather reassurance that it's going to be a stunner.

Dear Weather Gods,

The pressure is on for Easter Weather Gods. Please make it bee you tea full. Or I'll spew. I'm planning to acquire a new sport and it's a weather dependant one. So co-operate please. In return I promise to whinge less about winter this year (helped significantly by having insulation and heating.... and floors, walls and doors for that matter!). I will also not complain if the Irish Summer does not deliver while I am home.

Warm (ha ha) regards

Lozza

PS While I'm talking to you, can you please pass on my thanks to your buddies The Leave Gods for finally getting my annual leave approved today. I really appreciate it.

Reasons to live in Auckland

2010-03-05T09:12:00.006+13:00

I'm feeling pretty blissed out on NZ, and specifically Aucks, today. Just had the most stunning drive to work and lots of friendly interactions along the way.

1. The lights of the city as you drive towards it from The Shore after dark
2. The sun on the water as you drive away from the city towards The Shore
3. The free stuff to do put on by the council; outdoor cinemas, concerts in parks, suburb festivals...
4. Volcanoes make for an interesting view from pretty much anywhere
5. The Waitakeres
6. The West coast beaches
7. People are just nice while they sell you coffee, cat food, petrol... whatever really. And all before 8.00 am!
8. Great bars, cafes, restaurants to catch up with mates in and talk for hours over two glasses of wine
9. Summer
10. This is really a kiwi one but... it's the weekend ahead of everywhere else in the world

Three cheers for Auckland folks, and if you don't live here COME AND VISIT.

Sorry folks

2010-02-24T14:12:00.001+13:00

So I opened the year all sunshiney and full of the joys. And since then I’ve basically whined at you. Angry ranting can be funny. Full blown dramas and high levels of stress can be interesting to read about in other people’s lives. But a low-level grade of low-level whinging is BORING in the extreme. And anyway, what in the sweet mother of fuck have I got to whinge about? The sun is (mostly) shining, my cats are (currently) healthy and I’m going home to Ireland in a few months to meet my brand new nephew (assuming I have my leave approved).

So thanks for your patience while I got that out of my system. We will now resume our normal broadcast.

If you're not looking for a whinge stop reading

2010-02-24T11:42:00.002+13:00

I'm back in improv classes. This, for the large part, is fun. Lots of fun in fact. So much fun that I don't mint that it makes an already long day longer. I currently get up at 5.00 am to go to boot camp on a Tuesday morning. Although this is the last week for that.

Anyway last night I was in the throes of an improv exercises and I got thrown into a wall. It was unintentional and the other party involved in the incident was very contrite. I have sustained the tiniest little bruise to my baby finger on my right hand and one slightly larger one above my right elbow. My baby finger looks a bit swollen and is REALLY sore to touch.

Here's a list of things that you use your baby finger for that are tricky to avoid:

1. Turning your car's steering wheel to the right
2. Washing your hair
3. Brushing your teeth
4. Push ups (this will be less relevant after Thursday when I finish bootcamp for a while)
5. Shaking hands
6. Carrying bags by the handles
7. Clearing multiple glasses off a table
8. Using a joystick mouse

Doesn't my life sound pure dead exciting by the way?

Making an effort

2010-02-23T12:12:00.002+13:00

Every now and then I get told off for being slack at updating this. It immediately inspires me to write more. Can you all please get together and take it in turns to remind me, say once a week. Then you'll never need to get angry again.

Anyway, on with the post. I went to this at the weekend. It was great. I recommend it.

What surprised me was the ratio of food to wine. Wine far, far, far outstripped the food. Which was nice. I had stuff to do that night so I couldn't take full advantage of the range on offer but next year I'm going to book out my diary for a solid 36 hours and really go for it.

In other news my half marathon training is going badly. I've been doing this thinking that this plus a long run on the weekend would see me all set. That is not the case. My strength is better, my stamina is shot to shit. Also I think I'm nudging a quad, calf AND knee injury and worried about writing myself off totally. Or I could just need new trainers.

Jesus. I'm boring myself.

I will reflect on what needs ranting about and be back soon. Honest folks.

What's in a name?

2010-02-22T16:45:00.003+13:00

I have one of those surnames that people can't pronounce. They sort of slur through it and race to the end in the hope that I won't notice that they have no idea how to say it. And they needn't bother. I really don't mind. It's a tricky name. And the reason that it's tricky is becasue it's uncommon. Gallagher should be a tricky name to pronounce but Gallaghers are two-a-penny so everyone can.

My first name is not particularly tricky. Most people know a Lorraine or are at least familiar with the name. Although there are a variety of spellings for it. Mine is the traditional version but I've seen 'Laurraine', 'Loraine' and 'Lauraine' used. And in the case of NZ Immigration, who are generally speaking a bunch of morons, I've seen my own name spelled Lorriane. Despite the fact that they had every single piece of documentation in the entire world that had ever had my name written on it ever.

Anyway, it's not a super common name but I have met significantly more 'Lorraines' than I have met 'Brehenys' (or at least Brehenys who are not related to me).

Anyway the point is that my name is not a 'John Smith' kind of name.

So I was reasonably surprised to start getting emails to my hotmail account for someone with the same name but who wasn't me. There was one over Xmas then one early in the new year. But I logged on to Hotmail on Thursday to find a heap of 'reply all' emails about a netball game this week in England somewhere. So I sent them all this email:

Hi folks,

There are two Lorraine Brehenys in the world - what are the chances?!?

This particular Lorraine Breheny, writing to you from this particular hotmail address, enjoys keeping fit; but prefers individual to team sports.

Also I currently live in New Zealand.

So thanks for your invites to play in your team but it's not terribly practical. And think of the carbon footprint! I don't have the email address for the Lorraine Breheny I think you are probably trying to write to. It seems that quite a few of her friends and family have recently acquired mine though!

Best of luck finding an umpire.

Cheers

Lorraine Breheny (well obviously)

Understandably I got a slew of new emails form them apologising and declaring themselves stunned to hear from a second Lorraine Breheny. More surprisingly, a couple of them went on to invite me to come and have a drink with them should I ever be in the UK. One person would even like to become a pen pall or, as she put it, 'email buddy'. Based on my name and a couple of sentences (which in retrospect could be read as being a bit caustic), these people would like to be friends with a second Lorraine Breheny. It seems that one is not enough.

I can understand that.

A list of things I can't be bothered with at the moment

2010-01-20T17:43:00.002+13:00

1. Going to the supermarket. I used to love grocery shopping. It was fun. Because it was shopping. And shopping = fun. I'm not sure what changed but now it bores the face off me. and it's sort of mandatory if you want to have lunch/dinner/clean teeth etc. I hate it.
2. Learning how to use my new phone. Yes I'm sure it does a Brazilian very cool things. But I'm not interested in any of them. Fuck off with your synchronising and telling me when my next hair appointment is. I want to send texts without the use of a freakin stylus and I want something smaller than my handbag to cart around...well... in my handbag.
3. Sorting out house stuff. I need my front garden mowed, a flatmate, a window fixed, an alarm, deck steps, more bokashi mix.... it's endless and little fiddly stuff that I can't be bothered with. Now if it needed a new bathroom or a second level... that I could get behind! Would anyone like to buy my house off me?
4. Five day weeks. It's been a while and frankly I'm comfortable with that. Blah Blah, you've probably heard me bang on about this before but we are the most evolved animal on the planet. Why do we spend all of our time at stupid auld work? so we can afford mortgages on houses that need things done to them all of the time? Boring.
5. My laptop being broken. This just sucks. Stupid broken screen. Stupid.

Whine over. For now. Thanks for listening. I have lots of lovely stuff that i can absolutely be bothered about. But that's for another entry.

First day back

2010-01-11T15:03:00.003+13:00

It's the first day back in the office. It's summer in NZ so lots of people are still on leave and there's still very much a holiday vibe around the place. But at the end of the day i'm back at work on a sunny day in NZ and there are a million better things I could be doing with the day if I'm honest. And even (possibly especially) if I'm not honest.

But sure, there you go. Got to earn some money one way or the other I suppose.

So what should we talk about? Oh yes. That's right. I'm off to this on Friday. That should be fun.
You should come. We'll have fun.

It's probably not the most exciting line up I've ever seen but I've never been to a BDO in NZ so this year I'm going. Yay.

Right that's enough meaderings. Check out the link and be suitably jealous. I'm off.

2010

2010-01-06T13:37:00.002+13:00

We made it folks. For some of us, I expect it was touch and go for a bit. I had a few of my own close shaves, mostly alcohol related. But we scraped through, managed not to die and we've got a whole new sparkly year to have a shot at.

I for one am feeling pretty positive about 2010. I don't generally consider myself a pessimist to be fair and I I'm not trying to say we're fated or anything is pre-destined. But it's sunny out, I'm still on holiday and I'm having a lovely day hanging out in my house with me Ma. So I thought I'd share some good vibes.

If I did believe in 'signs' I'd probably be less positive. I kicked off 2010 vomiting for four days, my Mum's still sick and my poor sisters got shafted by shonky travel agency and ended up taking 40 hours to complete a 26 hour journey home do sub zero Ireland.

I'm not one for new year's resolutions but I do have some big goals for 2010. I won't bore you with the full set but since I've committed to (but failed to achieve) this one before I'll confirm that this year I absolutely, categorically, 100% going to run a half marathon in under two hours.

This time next week...

2009-12-18T16:13:00.003+13:00

...I will be in Bali. That's right folks, the Breheny Clan are doing their annual 'Let's meet up somewhere lovely' extravaganza. I am really looking forward to it and at the same time PANICKING about what needs to be sorted before I go.

I'm generally pretty cruisey when I travel. I'm not too worried about running out of clothes or forgetting anything other than my passport and credit card. But this time my Mum's coming back with me which means I need to sort the house out AND (more importantly) I also need to arrange for the cats to be fed. Generally not a prob, the flatties are very obliging but this is Xmas folks and the flattie is going to be away. Tricky. We will find a solution however. I just wish I hadn't left it to the week before to find it!

In other news, work is mental, I'm having a BBQ/party at my house this weekend for my birthday and I've got stuff on pretty much every night right up to Xmas. So perfectly set up for some gentle housework and catsitter arranging.

Gah.

Christmas

2009-12-14T18:06:00.003+13:00

Now I know it's an absolute stereotype to be totally unprepared for Xmas. But there you go. I'm a stereotype. I haven't done a freaking thing. This weekend looked like this:

Friday: Work, Xmas party, Jeff's gig, home at 2.00 am, big chats with Claire, bed at 3.00 am
Saturday: Eight hour improv workshop on 'being in the moment'. It was great. Really really cool but I'm not sure that I was able to give it 100%, what with the dehydration and lack of sleep. Went to Jeff's with Kez for DVD and Thai food. Home at midnight to call SPCA because there was a puppy in a truck outside my house that had been there when I left at 7.30. Sort that, bed by 1.00.
Sunday: Up at 8.00 for 16km run. Whip out to beach to hang out with Godson and his current legal guardians (or 'parents' as they like to refer to themselves). We go to the park, we visit the beach. I apply a nappy to a babies arse for the third time in my life (I'm getting really good - it was the right way round and everything) and it's back into town. Meet Loki, the most beautiful of Siberian Huskies (already a pretty attractive breed I think you'll agree). We go for an unexpectedly long walk. Or a short walk followed for a long search for where we parked the car depending on how you look at it. Home, dinner, bed.

What you will notice is nowhere in the above description is there any housework, shopping for xmas presents of wrangling with my garden to try to make it look anything other than the very worst garden in the street. And it's Xmas next week. Fark.

2010? Really? Are we sure?

2009-11-26T17:13:00.002+13:00

I remember being a kid and my grandparents saying, "This year has really flown" And thinking, "Bloody geriatrics, this week has gone on FOREVER" But really and truly, can it seriously nearly be December?

I've been in my current job for 18 months, I've been in my house for over a year, my cats are actaully eight and five not one and four as per the side pane on this blog.

Freaking crazy man.

I haven't finished my renovation stories and it's time to start putting up crimbo decorations. It's a world gone mad I tell you.

No more booze?

2009-10-23T10:44:00.003+13:00

This is what happened after the last post:

Monday night: Book launch, two vodka cocktails. It was at the 42 Below bar. Come on.
Tuesday night: Movie night courtesy of The Heritage Hotel Group, three glasses of bubbles. Then on to catch up with Antonia and pals in Cosh, glass of Pinot Noir.
Wednesday: Definitely taking this no booze thing seriously. No booze.
Thursday: Leaving drinks for a colleague. By some gargantuan effort manage to restrict myself to half a glass of Pinot Noir. Victory lap around the building completed. Go on to dinner with D&B. Decline wine. I am a pillar of self discipline and restraint. But then they weren't drinking either.
Today: A radio station is taking me to lunch. There will be an offer of booze. If the client (me) says no, they will feel they should say no. This seems like a churlish thing to do to your hosts on a Friday afternoon.

And then it's Labour weekend. Three whole nights where you don't have to get out of bed and go to work the next day. Gawd.

Can I do it?
Can I?

I'm not sure I want to to be fair.

Ah yes, the catch call of the alchie in denial.

Not that I'm an alchie. In denial.

I survived...just

2009-10-18T13:06:00.004+13:00

So it went ok. People laughed, no one died, no one got hurt.

And then I drank 250 litres of wine and smoked 25 cigarettes. Bad. Idea.

I just attempted a two hour run and couldn't even do half of that. I actually had an outer body experience. No more booze until after the half. That's the decision. Done and dusted.

Totally unproductive

2009-10-16T16:38:00.002+13:00

I'm rounding out a day of being totally unproductive by updating my blog for the second time.

I can't remember when I last felt this nervous about something. And why should I be nervous? It's a room full of people who are friends and family of the people who will be doing the improv thing. And if people don't laugh, so freakin what! Not a biggie. Just one of those things. No one will die, no one will get hurt, there will be charity laughter and then we can all go and get drunk. A win all round.

So why do I keep throwing up? Why can't I concentrate on anything else? Why are my hands clammy?

Clearly I have dengue fever.

It's the only possible explanation. I am very, very sick indeed. So sick that I should probably go home and hide under the duvet and remove any risk of infecting someone else with this horrible disease. It's the selfless thing to do.

Can't concentrate

2009-10-16T10:11:00.004+13:00

I'm going to write this to get it out of my system and get on with my day.

A few months ago I went to an improv comedy show and it reminded me how much I miss being involved with theatre. So I did an improv comedy course. And then I did a second one, which I'm half way through.

tonight we're having a sort of showcase. Where my fellow course mates and I will get up on stage in front of people we know and play improv games that we've previously only done in the safety of a local community centre with only ourselves to amuse.

Every time I think about it for even a second my stomach lurches. I'm throwing up regularly and have been for days. This may very well be one of the scariest things I'll ever do. And it's by choice, my decision, I've opted in.

Gawd.

Off for a vom.

A list of things I am looking forward to

2009-10-15T17:55:00.002+13:00

1. Running the half marathon
2. Belinda and Dinny's wedding
3. The briefing before Belinda and Dinny's wedding so I can practice my MC stuff (I'm REALLY looking forward to this one. Ahem. Cough.)
4. Going to Bali for Xmas
5. Going home next year to see my nephew
6. Summer
7. Dinner tonight
8. Owning garden furniture
9. Going diving again
10. Being able to drink properly again after the half marathon
11. Updating this blog more regularly.

Honest.

Closing the Loop

2009-10-12T15:40:00.002+13:00

It's been pointed out that I haven't finished off my Tales O Rennovation. Technically that's because I ahven't finished the renovation but I've come to a sort of an impasse.

(A) Because I've run out of money
(B) Because the little bits I've got left are too little to interest my builder.

So I have a deck but no steps down from it and I need to rip up a path to make it council compliant.

I had my first party at the house and depsite managing to dish out six bottles of spirits in cocktails, it remained reasonably intact. Sweet.The only casualty was the floor which is stiletto marked and scuffed, but that was always going to happen.

So in the next little while I will blog on some key points of renovation in retrospect.

Stay tuned.

INVINCIBLE

2009-10-11T10:42:00.002+13:00

Tell tale signs that you are going to have a doozy of a hangover:
1. You start and finish drinking while it's bright but with a dark bit in the middle
2. Your feet feel like they've been grated
3. Your mouth has almost certainly had something die in it
4. The final text you sent is misspelt, inappropriate and time stamped 3.54 am
5. You run out of fingers before you finish the list of the types of drinks you had
6. The word 'Jaegermeister' is on that list
7. You made a new best friend
8. You get home in time to chat to your flattie before she goes for her morning run
9. You send her to make you tea and toast but pass out before she gets back
10. You wake up two hours later fully dressed, and eat the toast because it might 'save you'

And it did, or something did, because I feel fine. Two hours sleep, eleven billion units of alcohol. Tip top, sparky, box o birds.

No more Tuna

2009-08-14T13:27:00.006+12:00

Last night I went home and there was the bones of a kitchen in the space that my builders had made for it. Imagine! Cupboards to put stuff in, benches for preparing stuff, holes for ovens and dishwashers and everything. Even room for a sink.

Today they were finishing it off (although it still needs proper benches and a splashback and a rangehood). I'll even be able to cook in it and everything.

And I'm not kidding when I say, not a day too soon. Today I looked at the can of tuna on my desk. Sitting expectantly, waiting to be opened and made into a tuna salad.

And I Just. Couldn't. Face it.

I've finally eaten as much as I can take of tuna salad.

I had hummus with salad instead.

Nearly...there

2009-08-11T19:53:00.004+12:00

I think this is almost the final week. Well at least for the major stuff. On Friday I will have a kitchen. It won't be a totally final kitchen but it will have one essential item... an oven.

No oven, no microwave, no hot food in my own home for four weeks. Mates have been amazing and I'm still not sick of tuna salads but I am so, totally, completely, utterly ready to be able to cook in my house again.

For that matter I'm ready to have cupboards and drawers to put stuff in and somewhere to plug in the kettle. And a bench to put it on. And a sink to wash the dishes in (there's somthing just so totally skanky about washing your dishes in the bathroom).

I'm also ready to have curtains in my bedroom, bookcases with books on them and a deck without old kitchen cabinetry and a toilet on it.

Little things.

Day 48 - As mentioned... it's the little things

2009-07-28T12:29:00.004+12:00

I don't think I'm a terribly unreasonable person. I can be a bit OCD about cleaning, I hate it when people say they're going to do something but don't and I have firm views on bigotry of all kinds. But generally I think I'm pretty cruisey.

But I have been amazed at four little things have driven my WILD with rage in the course of this renovation. Full credit to Charlie who's project managed the whole process and arranged for every single one to be fixed but it's hard to get over that feeling of pure anger. And they're really not ginormous things that will dramatically effect me or anyone I love in the long term.

1. The tap for the bath being at the foot of the bath when I wanted it on the side
2. The window in the front room being painted without removing the curtain rail
3. The drawer in the bathroom cabinet not being put in properly so it sticks a bit and is a bit lob sided
4. The wardrobe doors not being what I expected

When you consider he's pretty much got each of the 3,586 other things exactly right, that's not a long list. Nor is it a list of major things. But as mentioned... WILD with rage.

Day 43 - the innocence of youth

2009-07-23T15:55:00.003+12:00

I've just been rereading some posts and I notice that at the start of July I referred to my kitchen going in in around three weeks.

Hahahahahahahahahahaha.

Currently, my kitchen is due to go in in around three weeks. I popped back to the house last night to pick up the post and drop off some tiles and my kitchen is turquoise, my hall and bedrooms are polished and my bathroom floor is tiled. Next week there will be a small break in the floor sanding antics to allow me to move the entire house from the lounge and kitchen across to the three bedrooms and then it will resume.

Can't
Wait
For
It
To
Be
Done

And then (and only then) will the kitchen go in. When I mentioned to my builder that that's a couple of weeks later than I initially thought it would be he mentioned that kitchen guys are always late. So now I'm in a quandary. Do I let him know we're running behind or do I let him keep going and call him the day before he originally thought he'd be installing my kitchen?

So...much...news

2009-07-19T21:02:00.003+12:00

I have lots to update on but I have not the time to write it all now. Nor, I'm sure, have you the patience to read it. So I'm going to start at the very beginning and try to keep it pithy and see how far I get....

I Got A Heater
You have absolutely no idea how nice this is and what a difference it makes. I can't wait to have a house that isn't open all day letting all the lovely heat I've pumped into it out.

Literally life changing.

I Got A Flatmate
Some of you will have heard of Claire before. Well she's my flatmate again. This is very cool and means I have a person to wander around spotting house changes with in the evening. Although she's currently trekking around the North Island with her friend.

I Had My First Group of People Over
Ok so we had to uncover a sofa and carry it through to sit in the sun room and we ran out of glasses and we didn't really have enough chairs. But it was very cool having people over again. That's the only reason to own a house.

I Was Broken Into
Now this was weird. I got home last night at about 11.00 and was surprised that the lights were off in the house. I was sure I'd left the porch light on. But I toddled off to bed and it was only the next morning after an hour or so of mooching around that I noticed that my brand spanking new window that has been installed in the wall of the sun room, was no longer in the wall of the sunroom but was in fact sitting neatly on my deck, leaning up against the wall of my sunroom. It wasn't smashed or visibly damaged and my first instinct was that one of the tradepeople had taken it out and forgotten to put it back in. This was not the case.

To make a long blog short as possible, the current theory is that they specifically targeted me because my house is clearly a building site, with 'Danger construction underway' signs and a skip the size of Texas in my front garden. The reason we concluded this is because my laptop, camera and ipod were all untouched. And they really did a very neat job of removing the window. Suggesting taht it was a builder/burglar looking for builders' tools. All they did steal in the end was a couple of beers, some wine, a tub of ice cream, some veggie gyoza and some tinned pulses.

Weird.

I Am Staying With A Friend While My Floors get Polished.
Antonia is having me to stay while my floors get sanded and polished. Thanks Lady! The cats have gone into a cattery for the first time in their lives. Sad. But my floors are gettign polished. Hurray.

It's the little things...

2009-07-14T22:11:00.003+12:00

So it won't come as a surprise that I'm saying this but... it's a roller coaster. One day you're high as a kite. It's possible that's the paint fumes, but just generally there are certain days that feel... fun. Then other days you just want to have enough money so you can stay in a hotel for a couple of nights. Just so you have somewhere to hang out that isn't your bedroom. Just so you can shower properly. Just so you can get dressed without having to visit three rooms to get your clothes and another to get into them without flashing the neighbours.

And that's exactly it. It's the Little things that wear you down. The tiny particles of dust, the mucky paw print on your last tea towel, having to reset your alarm clock every single day because the power was switched off at some point for some reason or another, having to shower in the dark because there's only a sheer curtain up in the bathroom.

But on the other hand it's the little steps that get you all excited. My bathroom has plaster board on the walls today and that dappled glass stuff that bathrooms should have. My new shower isn't installed but is at least now in the house, as opposed to in storage in my neighbour's garage (thanks Norman!), there is a curtain nailed up over my bedroom window and I finally have a gas heater connected to the gas mains. It's been running for four hours now and it's lifted the temperature of my house from 11 degrees when I got home to a balmy 18 degrees. No mean feat. And I'm not being sarcastic when I say that feels balmy. I'm LOVING it.

Today is a good day.

Day 31 - FINALLY

2009-07-10T15:29:00.002+12:00

I currently have:

Resource consent
Gas piped in form the street
Two fully painted bedrooms
A cat flap
A bora free attic
A new found tolerance for dust

I currently don't have:

A toilet door
A shower
A bathroom door
Bedroom doors that shut
Windows that open

Day 29 of renovations- detox on hold

2009-07-08T12:35:00.002+12:00

Now I know what you're thinking- she ditched detox because she couldn't go on without booze. Well you're wrong wrong wrong. It turns out that what I can't go on without is a kitchen. I have no oven, my cutlery drawer and sink is behind a pile of gib board and there is no bench space accessible. This makes it tricky to prepare even steamed veg and fish. I don't even own a microwave. I'd imagine there will be a number of salads prepared on the coffee table in the coming weeks but the depths of winter is not really primo salad season, so let's be honest it's going to be takeaways most of the time.

So detox is out the window until the new kitchen goes in - in about three weeks. Eep.

However today when I left there was an electrician, a plumber, two painters, two plasterers and three builders in my house. I'd imagine the house will look quite different when I get home tonight.

Probably the other big lack is the cat flap. Currently their isn't one. Pinot is a reasonably quirky cat at the best of times which was why it took me a while to realise that her frantic dashing around the house this morning was not just her being a loony. She needed out. Urgently. Luckily I figured it out in time.

Insulation went into the roof last night- such a huge difference!

10 Things I Have Learnt So Far While Renovating

2009-07-05T11:16:00.005+12:00

1. Dust won't kill you. But if you endeavour to remove it from every surface every day, it might make you kill yourself.
2. Your neighbours, who seem lovely on the face of it, are sneaky conniving bastards who will chuck stuff in your skip in the dead of night.
3. Stuff being chucked in your skip in the dead of night makes a BIG NOISE and will scare the shite out of you the first hundred or so times.
4. People who have used builders will not believe you when you tell them how great your builder is. This is because they have been endlessly ripped off by trades people and refuse to believe that anyone could have had a different experience.
5. People love to take what you consider flash and exciting and shit all over it. "A good, basic kitchen" (that you've just spent the equivalent of six month's salary on) or "Huh, green paint. I see" or referring to the whole job as "Your little renovation"
6. These people are wankers and should be punched in the goolies forthwith.
7. It is impossible to just tear off a little bit of wallpaper. That shit is instantly addictive.
8. You can live without about 90% of the shit you have in your house.
9. The 10% you can't live without will be packed in an unlabelled box and is probably under a teetering pile of the other 90%.
10. Everything will take longer than you expect... except your money running out.

Day 22 of the renovations, Day five of Detox - Reality Bites

2009-07-01T11:21:00.002+12:00

Ok ok ok I know, all renovations go over budget. But do you know what's really frustrating? Mine's not going over budget because of some shonky builder or dodgy contractor. It's not even because when they ripped something out they discovered unexpected or unbudgeted for rot, leaks or any other issues.

It's all my fault. You see I want nice things but what I didn't do is add up all of the nice things to a total to see how much all of the nice things were going to cost me. Outcome = currently I'm $20k short on the expected total spend. $20k!! Oopsie.

Fuck detox, I could go on hunger strike and still not make up that shortfall. so when I went to my dentist today (I bit down on an alleged 'pitted' olive to find out that it had been falsely advertised) and he told me I needed to spend $1500 on a crown, I didn't even blink. Well actually I did blink and then said. "That's a freakin' dishwasher!!!". I'm not sure that made a lot of sense to Roger but he's an amiable sort and he took it in his stride. The point is, that in the scheme of things $1500 doesn't make a huge difference either way. I'm financially screwed.

Want to hear the best part? Because it's a very little tooth, he wants me to get a gold cap because they're stronger! A gold cap!!! Told you i always end up withe the fanciest option in the room.

At least I can develop my gansta rappa career and hopefully recoup some renovation costs.

Day 18 of the renovation. Day 1 of detox.

2009-06-27T18:32:00.003+12:00

That's right. You heard me. I'm on detox. But I got here with a bang. I had a Final Night On Booze. Phew. Cigs, karaoke, multiple taxis, an abandoned car, wine wine wine.

So today I woke up nice and hungover to remind myself why I'm doing this. It sucks being in a dirty, cluttered, freezing house while hungover.

And I need to pay for it to be clean, uncluttered, insulated and heated.

I can see my breath (which probably smells like a badger's arse) and am wearing everything I own. I've drunk two litres of water today. Haven't peed once. MY life is one of pure glamour.

Day 17 - Yes. I know that.

2009-06-26T09:05:00.004+12:00

Ok so maybe, just maybe, I am pandering for a little sympathy. Perhaps I have mentioned to people that I'm a little cold. I may have pointed out that it's a new level of HARD to make it to work (a) fully dressed and (b) not covered in dust. It is possible that I have highlighted that as a slight clean freak, it's a little stressful living in a house where everything is always filthy and one whole room is literally piled to the four metre high rafters with stuff. Potentially I've been banging on that it's tricky to maintain a normal life when your shower floods every morning, your roof is leaking, you have to visit every room in the house to pull together an outfit and you're not sure what room you'll be sleeping in tonight...

But yes. I realise:

"It will be great when it's finished"
"It's much better to do it all in one go"
"It will be so much warmer next winter"

That's why I'm doing it. You don't need to say that. What you should say is: "Lorraine. You are amazing. I could never in a million years do what you are doing. Because I live a life of luxury in my house that isn't being renovated. You are incredibly strong and possibly the bravest person I've ever met. Let me buy you dinner."

Day 16 - new lows

2009-06-25T21:40:00.003+12:00

My third clothes rail collapsed today. This should probably indicate that I have more clothes than I need. But strangely I don't feel that way. Since I will actually have a wardrobe in a few weeks, I can't possible justify buying a new clothes rail. So my clothes are currently hanging on a telescopic painting pole that's suspended across my lounge window. Which faces the street. I'm officially white trash.

The house continues to be all kinds of freezing and everything everything everything has dust on it. Cooking, brushing your teeth and wearing anything black are more complicated than you could possibly imagine. I've also had to move all of my stuff from my bedroom to the lounge and in the process misplaced my watch. This. Is. Driving. Me. Crazy.

Other essential items I have 'safely packed away', absolutely can not find and now urgently need:

Clean towels
The vacuum cleaner
Books
Tea towels
Spare bath mats
Laundry baskets

In other, non-renovations related news, I attended a conference today entitled "The Future of the Book". Initially fascinating, often confusing and towards the end downright boring stuff. One guy literally cleared the room with his meanderings. But some interesting stuff on digital technology and how 'books' (and by that I mean text and images not necessarily paper in bindings) will be formatted and consumed in the future. And in some cases the really really near future.

But if I'm honest I really just wanted to pop home and check on the renovations!

Day 15 - demolition versus building

2009-06-24T09:26:00.003+12:00

I got home quite late last night and the renovations had moved on HEAPS. When I spoke to my builder about it he pointed out that it had moved on even more the day before but then putting up walls and fences is always going to look more impressive than ripping them out.

I've got my 'novelty buzz' back on and it's making it exciting again. I also did a Very Brave Thing and actually made a spreadsheet of what I think the additional costs are going to be outside of his quote. He's also doing this. I had a look and I think I might just squeak through on budget. Just. And that's a revised budget to be fair. And only because my builder is a super hero and has got me cash work wherever possible, pitched tradesmen against each other to get them to undercut the competition and talked me out of some very expensive options. There will be no horizontal stripes in the hall for example. But I can always do that later.

And speaking of getting stuck in, that's exactly what Pinot had done to the sheets of foam insulation left by the builder.

I think Pinot has an eating disorder. She used to be a big binge and purger but that's stopped since we moved to the new house and her latest thing is eating packing foam. You know the stuff that cradles appliances in their boxes or fits under your floor to stop your tootsies from getting cold. That stuff. and when you move house, buy new things and are getting underfloor insulation there's plenty of it around. I think it fills her up so she doesn't have to eat cat food. Yuck. Anyway there was a whole sheet (about two metres by one metre and five cm thick) that she's pretty much shredded creating a snowstorm in the laundry and a full little tummy of toxins for her. Mentalist.

I'll try to get some photos on Facebook of the advances tonight but I have to also pack up my room. I'm going to be sleeping in the lounge for a few nights. Bye bye electric blanket. This is going to be tough.

Day 14 - not according to plan

2009-06-23T09:06:00.002+12:00

Things are slowly coming to a grinding halt. This is bad.

Basically the two things I've been glibly joking about (the resource consent not being through and Vector being morons) is completely holding up the job.

At the end of this week it will have been six weeks since we submitted the resource consent but since the person looking after it was off sick last week and apparently it needs to go to some committee it's not only not signed off, it's looking like another couple of weeks before it's even likely to have an outcome. That outcome might be 'you can't have a deck or bifolds or change the back of your house in any way'. This would be tricky.

Meanwhile the person I spoke to in Vector when I decided to go ahead with bringing gas in from the street gave me a whole heap of absolute lies about what I needed to do next. This meant that my request wasn't progressed at all for a further two weeks.

Have I mentioned just how cold it is in my house at the moment? My builder says he doesn't know how I'm doing it. My builder. Who shows up to work in shorts and a hoodie when it's five degrees outside.

I will look back on this. I will laugh. It will all have been worthwhile.

Remind me of that.

Day 13 - booze versus renovations

2009-06-22T09:12:00.006+12:00

Just got my first official invoice. Jee-aysus. I mean you realise that they don't work for free and there's a lot of wood in my back porch but BLIMEY.

It was a pretty chilly weekend and I had a small hangover on Saturday and a Large Hangover (capitals deliberate) on Sunday. My house is not currently a calming refuge of a place to hang out in with a hangover let me tell you.

On the plus side I didn't worry too much about how dirty everything was because any cleaning would be a short term fix anyway. What I did fret about was the horrendous amount of money I spent the night before on the horrendous amount of booze I consumed.

I couldn't afford bottles (note the plural!) of Veuve Cliquot before I was renovating. I certainly shouldn't be buying them now. Nor is this a particularly good time to pick up my smoking habit again. Nor should I be abandoning my car and taxiing places. Eating out, needing to dry clean frocks I passed out in... basically getting drunk while renovating is not smart. You end up sick and cold in your messy house with a vaguely uneasy feeling that you drank the money you need to pay for your dishwasher.

So does this mean no booze for the remainder of the renovation? I'll keep you posted.

Day ten - going Zen

2009-06-19T17:10:00.002+12:00

About a week after I went unconditional on the house I had a moment of pure, unbridled, total panic. I had agreed to purchase a house that needed EVERYTHING done to it. From the foundations to the roof and everything in between. I have never changed a tyre, hung a shelf or even wired a plug. I wear six inch heels at all times, even to the hardware shop and I don't have a burly builder boyfriend.

I have never renovated a house before.

I have never owned my own home before.

What in the sweet, mother of fuck was I doing?

That kind of panic.

Then the panic settled and I was left with a small feeling of unease that lingered for about five months. What if I should put in two bathrooms? Maybe I should keep the door into the dining room rather than the lounge. Is decking over the back garden going to make it feel all built up and yucky?

And then I went all zen on it. You know what? I have never renovated before. I've never owned my own home. It's inevitable that I will make mistakes, I'm taking it as a given that I will look back and see things I should clearly have done differently. There may very well be tears at some point.

But all of that is ok.

Let's see how long that lasts shall we!

Day nine

2009-06-18T21:07:00.002+12:00

I can't explain how cold my house is. So I won't even try. But I had to stick a hot water bottle down my hoodie for an hour so I could thaw my fingers sufficiently to type.

There are holes in floors and walls and it's zero degrees. And the only socket in my room is now in the wardrobe. But I do have a giant, industrial power chord running from what used to be the kitchen to my electric blanket.

I tried and failed to upload photos here so they're on Facebook. If you're reading this blog I'm guessing you're on Facebook too so you can see them there.

I may not sound very happy but its actually so frickin exciting to get home every night and see what they've done. Check out the photos and I'll write more when I can feel my fingertips.

Day 3

2009-06-12T12:17:00.004+12:00

Wow. I mean I was pretty excited before all of this kicked off but it's just getting better and better.

Some favourite reno moments so far (since starting the repiling)
1. Going into my bedroom and shutting the door behind me for the very first time because now that the house is straight the door fits in the hole. Shame I didn't have a handle at the time and so couldn't get back out. Had to jump out the window (note to self, the right shoes are important in this, plimsolls don't cut it).
2. Showing the builder that most of the plasterboard in the lounge is fine and shouldn't need replacing, only to spot the MASSIVE damp patch from my roof that just started leaking on Day 1.
3. Getting my first kitchen quote. $15,000 more that I was planning to spend.
4. The mucky paw prints everywhere now that the cats realise they don't have to subject themselves to the indignity of a cat flap via a concrete path, they can come up through the holes in the floor, via the dirt under the house
5. Calling my builder urgently to tell him the deck's still not consented so to get on with other stuff to be greeted with, "Hey Lorraine was just going to text you to tell you we got the concrete poured for the deck before it started raining".

I'll pop some photos up on the weekend.

Budget versus reality

2009-06-08T15:33:00.005+12:00

I have often joked that you can show me a selection of anything and my favourite will be the most expensive one. Almost always. A selection of dresses, shoes, handbags etc. This is before I see the price or have any inkling as to what they might cost.

It's not funny anymore.

Today I went into a bathroom showroom. I found a bath I love. It was three times as much as i was planning to pay for a bath.

Three times as much.

Luckily I only have baths about once every six months so I can't possibly justify it. But what's going to happen when I have to pick curtains and a cooker and flooring and crap?!?!?!?!?

I'm not sure I'm made for renovating.

And the outcome was...

2009-06-07T23:50:00.001+12:00

... it will cost $300 to get gas in form the street.

All that for $300?? I cost them more than that in calls to the 0800 number and Aaron and Adrew's time.

Morons.

The Rennovation Blog begins

2009-06-03T10:36:00.003+12:00

I got told off on the weekend so I'm getting back into it. And what a way to get back into it:

It's the 'Renovation Quote of the Day'

My house is cold. I have written this about other houses in other blogs. This is definitely up there. This is down to no insulation, no heating and walls made out of wood. That's right international peeps who still read this blog. I have a few bits of wood between me and the elements. Like those huts we built in summer but then abandoned in winter because why on earth would you subject yourself to that level of cold for several months?

Welcome to NZ.

Anyway, there is a list of things that I am doing to attempt to address this issue:

1. Using heaters: This only works if your wiring isn't a hundred years old. I plugged two heaters into one socket and it sort of melted. My fuses are also 100 years old so it didn't just trip. It melted. This socket no longer works. Leaving one other socket in my lounge for telly, dvd player, broadband, sky, laptop and the cool lamp I rescued form the garage of some crazy half way between Aucks and Rotorua.
2. Getting insulation. This is underway but first I have to sort my wiring so the insulation can go in around it.
3. Getting gas fired heating installed. You see, first I need to get gas. Two options
(A) Get gas bottles
(B) Get gas plumbed from the street.
I am endeavouring to find which of these is the best and most cost effective option. To this end I have phoned the gas company about eight times. In fairness one of those times was me calling back because although the project manager looking after my 'quote' said 'please leave a detailed message' his answering machine cuts you off after 15 seconds. Clearly Andrew C does not live a detailed life

And neither does the receptionist (we're getting closer to the quote of the day)

I called today because neither Andrew nor anyone else has responded to my eight day old request for information that would help me to make the above decision. I asked to speak to Andres C but instead the receptionist put me through to Aaron C.

When I called back she immediately apologised, "I'm so sorry, I put you through to a slightly different person"

Em... what? How can one other human being be 'slightly different' to another, entirely other human being??

They have the same initials, possibly the same role within Vector (the company in question). Maybe they're the same age and have similar likes and dislikes, but at the end of it all they are ENTIRELY different people.

Especially for my purposes which is to shout at Andrew C that he should sort his F%^&ing Sh!t out and send me a fricking quote for having gas installed. For Chrissakes.

B@sT@rds.

New Direction

2009-01-13T09:27:00.001+13:00

I have had a number of things to blog about recently but nothing has made it into writing. Mainly becasue I've been really busy. But that's nothing new.

One of the big pieces of news is that I've bought a house. Now, I am no DIY guru. Have never put up a shelf. Can't rewire a plug, wouldn't know what to do with a blocked s-bend.

So naturally in choosing from the wide variety of houses there were available to buy in Auckland, I chose a rennovation. A total and utter, bare tacks, overhaul kinda scenario.

We're not talking a lick of paint, some gentle sanding and a new kitchen. We're talking all of that plus rewiring, reroofing, repiling, replumbing, replastering... re everythinging.

And this, as it turns out, leads to HILARIOUS consequences. Some of which I think the two people who still occassionally check this blog will find amusing and most of which I am keen to document so at the end of this project (which my Mum thinks is going to take about 10 years and I'm planning to have finished by October) I can look back and (hopefully) be astounded by my ignorance starting out and be stoked with my experience looking back.

Also I'd like to use this blog as a vehicle to out shoddy contractors and praise and recommend the excellent ones I'm sure I'm about to meet. Ha ha!

So there you have it. Stay tuned for photos of a work in progress and some documentation of the process.

Addendum

2008-08-24T22:13:00.003+12:00

There was one fly or flies (pun intended) in the ointment on the weekend away.

These particular flies were thirsty little sandflies that latched onto my bare sweaty ankles when I returned from my run and sat outside waiting for my face to turn from deep purple to cerise pink.

I am so itchy if someone put a box jellyfish in front of me I'd give it a big kiss in the hopes that the pain would distract me from the itching.

I will have no skin on my ankles by the end of tomorrow.

Weekend Away

2008-08-24T21:57:00.002+12:00

I just had the best weekend. 48 hours of chilled out chilledness. Beach side setting and nine individuals doing just exactly what they wanted, nothing more and nothing less. I read one and a half books, drank a variety of wines and ate about three kilos of cheese with people who were funny and serious and lively and calm and drunk and sober and cool cool cool in all the right quantities... pretty much my dream weekend.

So now I'm already planning the next one. Labour Day in the Corromandel. This one will be with my sis, Fiona, and Aine who have been travelling around South America and having a ball by all accounts. And hopefully a representitive portion of the crew from this weekend.

Life and Death

2008-08-22T08:27:00.004+12:00

My oldest cat, Puck, has been very sick. In a 'could have died' kind of way. I won't disgust you with the details but he spent seven days at the vets with a catheter and a drip, had to have an operation and will be on a special diet for the rest of his life.

But basically what it amounted to was a urinary tract infection. Which is a bigger deal for cats than it is for humans but it still shouldn't be a terminal illness. and in Puck's case it wasn't - for two reasons.

1. I took him to the vet in time (it can kill cats in three to six days)
2. I could afford to pay for the treatment he needed.

Now here's the thing. Point one is down to the owner spotting the issue and acting in time. there are a million reason why that might or might not happen. You're away for the weekend and the neighbour doesn't notice when he/she pops into feed them, the vets are closed for the long weekend and you're pretty sure it can wait etc etc.

But point 2... Now I understand if an animal is in a lot of pain with something major like a serious accident or a terminal illness. But this is something that could be easily fixed with no long term effects.. as long as you have a spare $1000 or so.

What if I didn't?

Would the vet have put down an otherwise healthy animal?

Does anyone know?

Car list

2008-08-08T21:56:00.003+12:00

If a man's home is his castle, his car is his kingdom.

I am now a Commuter. And in my daily commute I see people, sitting in traffic doing all sorts of things in their cars. Not the sorts of things they would do just a metre further away on the footpath walking along at the same speed as the commuting car.

Once people are in the car, they feel like they are invisible to others. Or at least the act that way. They are completely, utterly, comfortable doing what they would if they were entirely alone. Or at least just with the other people in the car with them at the time.

Below is a list of just some of the things I have seen people doing in their car. I very much doubt many of them would feel comfortable doing these things walking up the street.

Blatantly checking themselves out in the mirror
Putting on makeup
Fighting with their family
Singing (and emoting) at the top of their voice
Shaving
Picking their nose
Eating their snot
Squeezing their spots
Shouting at their kids
Moshing
Plucking their eyebrows
Reading the paper
Gesticulating at other motorists
Filing their nails
Crying

Company car

2008-08-01T22:52:00.005+12:00

I have a company car. This is new to me. I'm not sure what to do about petrol and other nonsense relating to that.

What I am sure about is that when something happens to it or a staff member asks to borrow it you're guaranteed to feel like more of a dick and generally dodgy in terms of cleanliness, mileage and actually just driving it than if you were just driving your own car.

So it was with conflicted emotions that I decided to pop into the car wash on Monday on my way to work to get it cleaned. You see it was VERY dirty. With the recent storms and the fact that I rarely get to a car wash, it's just generally filthy. And I'd had an early morning meeting on my side of the city (which is the opposite side of the city to where I work) at 9.00. So my working day had started an hour later than it generally does and I felt lke a bit of a skiver to be stopping to get my car washed as opposed to going straight into the office.

But as mentioned the car was FILTHY so I stopped about 200 metres form the office in a BP station to get their very finest, 'premium wash' or 'exclusive wash' or 'thorough cleaning' or whatever the $11 wash is called.

I was sitting there, aerial retracted, windows shut, side mirrors folded into the body of the car; feeling like really I should be at work and hoping that no one from the office happened by. I generally skip lunch and work on average two to four hours a day more than my contract requires so I have NO reason to feel this way, but that's how I was feeling.

So it was with some horror that I witnessed the brushy, swisher part of the car wash sucking one of my wind screen wipers out of it's docking station where it was safely nestled and straight up into a 90 degree angel form the bonnet, snapping the wiper blade.

But it wasn't over yet. There was still the drier. In the pass from from to back it sensed the wiper and passed up over it. I could hear it returning and all I could do was mentally will it to sense it again and raise up over it for a second time.

It didn't.

In fact it steamed right through and snapped the wiper of at its (2cm thick) base.

Brilliant.

So instead of surreptitiously washing my car, I had to declare my inappropriate car cleaning during work time to a slew of people in the office in order to lodge an insurance claim and get a new wiper shipped from Japan for my car (it's yet to arrive so the pain has only just begun).

Outstanding

It's endless

2008-07-27T21:51:00.002+12:00

Working for a publishing company has many many benefits. The fact that almost everyone can recommend at least ten great books if you're stuck, getting to market something you are passionate about (not just something you believe in or think is quite good really), working with and for and on behalf of creative, clever, interesting people, the smell of books as you walk through the warehouse from your car, the company car that comes with my job isn't bad actually. But it really is all about the books.

There is one possible downside. The books are endless. I'm going through a phase that I'm sure everyone does before you finally shrug your mental shoulders and come to terms with the fact that you can't ever read everything. That no matter how hard you try, no matter how long you read, no matter what other things you sacrifice to allow time for another couple of chapters, there will always be more books to read. There will be classics you won't get to and prize winners you'll have to skip and entire catalogues by single authors that you'll just have to pass up.

*SHUDDER*

And I have to be very careful where this takes me. You see my very favourite thing in the world is reading. And it's not like my very favourite food in the world being Thai. You see I say I could just eat Thai food for the rest of my life. But I'm probably lying. I could probably eat it for a couple of months and then, eventually, I'd really want something with cheese in it. Or olives. Or a even a slice of toast.

But reading- that I could do incessantly, interminably. For. Ever.

So when someone asks me to do anything outside of work I have to resist the urge to use the amount of reading I need to do for work as an excuse to just read and read and read. And it would be a perfectly valid excuse not to do something considering there's about 300 new titles every month, excluding other publishers and the massive, infinite back list of the last few thousand years of written word.

But while I love love love to read I would hate hate hate to have no friends left to discuss the books with and recommend them to. And also, obviously, my friends are lovely.

But it's tempting.

And then you add in that it's winter. And take into account that Alex The Invalid is staying with me having been knocked off his bike and broken his ankle. I have the perfect trio of excuses to spend this weekend inside with a selection of books.

So here I am. Updating my blog. Doing something proactive about communicating wiht the outside world.

Hi world.

Need any books?

GOOD morning

2008-07-24T09:24:00.003+12:00

I work on The North Shore of Auckland City now so very day I cross the harbour bridge. Most mornings the sun is just coming up over rangitoto and glistening on the water. Vury purty.

And today as I approached the harbour bridge it happened. Someone has done a Beastie Boys A team theme tune mash up! I LOVE it. Great song to drive over the bridge to. I just about blew the speakers in my car.

Epiphany

2008-06-05T19:16:00.002+12:00

I put my make up on in the car on my way to work. It started off as a thing I would do at traffic lights, then became something I do while I'm waiting at intersections or even drifting along in traffic.

Not a good habit I know.

Two days ago I was doing the drifty thing and a cyclist came up on the inside of me in the bycycle lane and gestured fro me to move back into my own lane.

Fair enough I thought. But I also thought about the fact that I hadn't noticed her up to the point she was gesturing at me.

20 metres up the road someone turned left without looking and knocked her off her bike.

Now she was shaken but not hurt and her bike looked ok. But I had one of those moments when you see someone do something terrible and you realise it was pure, blind, stupid luck that it wasn't you.

No more drifty makeup for me.

New Job

2008-05-18T21:47:00.002+12:00

I have a new job.
It is my dream job.
It is marketing manager for a publishing company.

I am very happy about my new job.
I won't speak about it here on this blog but I wanted it on record
That I have my dream job.

Something annoying

2008-05-18T21:45:00.000+12:00

I spell check my blogs and then I republish but it doesn't pick up the amends. As a result my typos make me look semi literate.
any ideas?

10 things my cats do that drive me nuts but that I tell as fond stories- now via my blog

2008-04-16T07:26:00.004+12:00

1. Pinot brings in large live insects and sets them free in my bedroom while I am trying to sleep, Cicadas in distress and trying to find refuge under the covers with you are difficult to ignore.
2. Puck comes into the house making the longest, saddest mewls you'll ever hear and when you approach him to comfort him he runs and hides under a table so that you can't get to him as if his recurring experience is being beaten with a clothes hanger by you.
3. Pinot goes out through the cat flap, around to the front on the flat and scrabbles on the window until you let her in through the human door. Repeatedly. She also scrabbles on the full length mirror while I'm asleep making a continuos knocking sound against the wall and waking the entire house.
4. Puck waits until you're sitting comfortably, sidles up to you and lets you pat him for a second before moving five centemetres out of reach and sitting there expectently awaiting pats and scratchings.
5. Pinot knocks glasses of water off the table, deliberatly spilling their contents onto the carpet as she prefers carpet water to water that's in her bowl. She'll also do this with empty glasses just to make her point.
6. Puck reacts to the sound of the can opener EVERY SINLGE TIME and whines at you until you give him something. The only thing I ever give him that involves a tin opener is tuna and more often I'm opening chickpeas or beans or something else but he still whines.
7. Pinot waits until she can sense you're finally going to brave the day and get out of bed in just one more minute before climbing onto your chest and going fast asleep instantly.
8. Puck eats Pinot's food.
9. Pinot gets your attention by being deliberatly naughty. This may be the glass of water trick or could involve jumping up on the dining room table, kitchen counter or eating off your plate. The attention must involve a combination of shouting and moving towards her flapping your arms to encourage her to desist. Temporarily.
10. Puck, who is way less naughty than Pinot, reacts as if he's being told off when actually I'm shouting at Pinot about any one of the above things.

Domesticity

2008-04-07T21:14:00.004+12:00

The thing about being a grown up is that an awful lot of the stuff that you're supposed to allocate time to is fucking boring.

A case in point is the ongoing saga of the washing machine. Here it is in synospis

1. For a variety of reasons, my washing machine has been at a friend's house for about two years.
2. I reclaimed it in about August of last year
3. In December it was nicked (our laundry was outdoors)
4. I put in an insurance claim
5. They decided I was dodgy and made me spend hours making phone calls, filling in forms, visiting police stations and talking to 'assessors' (investigators).
6. I was background checked for criminal record, bad debts and they even had a look at my online auction account to make sure I wasn't coincidentally selling a washing machine
7. Eventually they paid out about half what I had spent including interest on the loan repayments and mechanical breakdown insurance
8. The Flat (me and Claire) bought a second one online
9. While I was away it leaked, flooded the cupboard and short circuted the plug socket
10. We got that fixed... and just last week it broke down completely
11. I got a rental today after waiting three hours for the fuckers to deliver it
12. It's leaked all over the cupboard but luckily we haven't fixed the plug in there so at least that didn't repeat.

So there you are. It's all so fucking mundane and yet I reckon I've spent about 30 hours or so in the last four months on all of the many washing machines I've had in my life recently. And I don't even have a working one yet

30 hours? But that's not very long is it? Well it's more time than I've spent on the following in the same time span:

1. Attending the theatre
2. Watching DVDs
3. Catching up with several of my close friends
4. Skyping
5. Browsing in book shops
6. Taking lunch breaks
7. Going to the cinema
8. Doing voluntary work
9. Drinking cocktails
10. Trying on new shoes
11. Reading poetry
12. Sleeping in

I would much rather be doing any of the latter list but bloody grown up shite always gets in the way.

Maybe I should be like the Queen and only wear my clothes once? That could be solution. But for now I have no clean sports socks to run in tomorrow and that makes me ANGRY.

From Detox to Retox

2008-03-25T18:02:00.002+13:00

I have been on detox. No refined sugar, no caffeine, no booze.

No booze?

Yes that's right. But I have had a number of scheduled 'breaks' on the booze front. I've had a few weekends away, some parties and the occassional other celebration where I thought it would be churlish to hot have a few shandies. Or a bottle of wine.

But all very well behaved and waking up without the taste of badgers arse in your mouth.

And then we hit Good Friday. See I was out for a few drinks on Thursday night and it all got away from me a bit. Suddenly they were flashing the lights and there was going to be no alcohol available for the next 24 hours.

I PANICKED.

And so I talked the people I was out with into coming back to mine where I had an unopened bottle of Tequila and an unopened bottle of Jaegermeister. Some of them required minimal persuasion.

The last thing I remember is the first shot of Tequila. And then it was waking up on the couch, covered in bruises and still absolutely hammered.

And then I found myself in a car on the way to Bluesfest in the Corromandel with eight people I had never met and two people I hadn't seen for six months. This was absolutely not my plan for the weekend and somewhat unexpected.

It was an excellent weekend though.

Drinking is great.

Why I listen to Mikey Havoc's breakfast show on bFM

2008-03-19T13:20:00.010+13:00

I love Mikey Havoc. He's the shit. And Jose who reads the news is pretty damn good too. But today they were even better.

You see it was 8.30 and time for the news headlines. The bit that gets you all wamred up for the actual news at 9.00. Exciting.

This is exactly, verbatim how it went:

Jose: Today Dan Quail, American Vice President commented on the fifth anniversary of the invasion or Iraq, "We are still committed to blah blah blah, whatever"
Mikey (firstly in a sarcastic, sicophantic high pitched tone but towards the end getting genuininely irate): Oh thank you Mr Quail, you obviously have our best interests at heart, thank you, you reptillian, shapeshifter son of a bitch.

Fan. Fucking. TASTIC.

Post travel blues

2008-03-18T17:55:00.003+13:00

So I've been home for a couple of months now and I've got back into 'things'. Work, pets, friends, doing housework etc.

Now this is obviously stating the obvious, but I REALLY REALLY miss travelling. In a tangible, physical yearning kind of way. It's not about being on holiday. It's not about not loving NZ. It's certainly not taht I can't wait to get away from friends and colleagues in this country, It's that I just want to be on the road again. Indefinitely. Is that so unreasonable?

I have had a number of thoughts about how this might be achieved (clearly I've been giving it a lot of thought). I could look for a job that will involve lots of travel. I could pack everything up and volunteer overseas. There's never going to be a better time to do it - single, relatively debt free, no kids. Well......

Except for Puck and Pinot.

And that's what's keeping me here. I would feel like I was abandoning my cats. I'm sure i could find a loving temporary home with someone who they know and trust (possibly Alex) but is that really good enough?

Poo. I really want to travel.

LAX II

2008-02-18T20:18:00.001+13:00

Sorry it's taken so long... but here goes.

Where was I? Oh yes. Was planning to buy presents and then this happened.

I got in the queue for immigration. An hour later I was still in the queue for immigration. What was most frustrating about this was that they kept opening new queues but taking the people from the BACK of our queue over to the new queue. Which would then get procesed super fast while we stayed in our S.L.O.W. queue. So the Jamaican lady in front of me had a shout at the immigration steward who was moving people around with no regard to who had been there first etc. She pointed out that 'It's like a freeway. You never know which lane is going to move faster."

Philosophical.

No one else seemed to be philosophical about it though and pretty soon this lady was getting dogs abuse. At this point, I had been in the queue for two hours and my concern had moved from not having time to shop to missing my connecting flight. I spoke to the Aristotle of US Immigration and she told me that I should have told her when I first got to the queue that I had a flight to catch. I pointed out that two hours ago and fifteenth in the queue I thought I had plenty of time to spare. "I'll see what I can do." she said.

Apparently what she could do was to move herself to work on another queue. That queue was far enough away that I would have to leave my queue and lose my place to go and talk to her again. Or shriek at her and probably take 65 bullets to the face by trigger happy yank wank guards.

Here's a sugestion LAX- since you insist on people who don't even want to enter you're shitty, bullying, capitalist pig dog country clearing immigration, how about you have seperate queues for those people who have connecting flights. It's hardly a giant mental leap.

So EVENTUALLY I cleared immigration and I still had to collect my luggage, clear customs, check in, clear security and board. My flight was boarding in twenty minutes. By the time I got to security my flight was boarding. The line was (Now I know I'm prone to a bit of exaggeration but this is the God's honest truth) 250 metres long. I whiped past the line to the security guard, certain that I could skip ahead as my flight was boarding. The security guard looked exactly like Adam Sandler wold if he was a couple of stone heavier.

I fucking hate Adam Sandler. The conversation went like this:

Lorraine: (A bit breathless after sprinting quite a bit, but smiling and friendly) My flight is boarding now
Fat Adam Sandler (FAD): (Smiling delightedly with a vacant look in his eye) Uh
Lorraine:( in a 'oh sorry, it's my accent, you didn't understand me' tone) My Flight. It's boarding now.
FAD: (Still DElighted with himself and nodding) Uh Uh.
Lorraine: So can I go through please?
FAD: Nope

Now here's what I should have said in order to make my point that I am a polite if somewhat stressed passenger and he is not being as helpful as I'm sure he is encouraged to be by his supervisor:

"Oh I understand now, See when you said, "Uh" I just assumed that you were one of those moronic, slow wited morans that your country specialises in the mass production of. But now I see you are in fact a rude and unhelpful neanderthal."

What I actaully said was "Cock sucking mother fucker" Which although harsher, makes me look like the nasty customer.

I can visualise his face now and I really really want to SLAP it.

I fucking hate LAX

LAX

2008-02-06T10:39:00.000+13:00

Los Angelus Airport.

I FUCKING HATE the place.

I will be including a number of inflammatory words and links in the attempt to make this blog noteworthy to the American Government and so get my complaint letter on record by any means necessary.

George Bush, Death threat, Saddam Hussein.

The thing about passing through America on your way to somewhere else is that a while ago, some terrorists flew some of their planes into some of their buildings. This is very very very sad. And as a result they are conscious of security the way I am often conscious of my head after drinking nine bottles of wine.

Jihad, Osama Bin Laden, 9/11.

That's fair enough. Now it's quite frustrating that the response to this terrorism hangover is that, on a stopover, from one country to the next, I need to clear immigration, have my photo taken, get fingerprinted, collect all of my luggage, clear customs and go and check it all the fuck back in, clear security, get xrayed and finally go to my shitty departure lounge because LAX was built before a single person in America had any notion of class, comfort or style. But that's the price you pay for transiting in the States and the upside is it increases your luggage allowance.

Terrorism, National security, Suicide bomber.

However.

Iraq, Afghanistan, Vietnam.

They seem to have a further obligation to make this process as frustrating as possible.

War, Attack, Invasion.

So on my way home I had a three and a half hour stopover in LAX. 'Ah' I thought, 'I will stock up on books in Barnes and Noble'(books are weirdly expensive in NZ), 'I will visit MAC and MAX my credit card, I will investigate the shops for a present for Dee Bee's birthday.'

Day of reckoning, American infidels, Communism.

No no and no.

Bomb, explosion, incendary device.

I'll have to tell this in installments. I'm getting too angry.

Nearly over

2008-01-25T10:29:00.000+13:00

I think I´ve finally cracked hyperlinking ... we´ll see

After two failed attempts to dive on this trip (and one in NZ just before I left) I was starting to think I was jinxed. But I´ve finished off the trip with three days of spectacular diving and I can´t believe it´s nearly over.

I did two reef dives, two at Cozumel (unreal wall of coral) and today, two Cenote dives. When I first did scuba diving in the ocean, I said it was like flinding another planet. Well today I found another one again. Completely different. I loved it.

And now all that´s left to do is pack, get a bus to Cancun (I´m in Playa Del Carmen), pick up some luggage at Dreams and then I´m on a plane home. Obviously I´m not DREADING going back to NZ, but to be fair, I could easily go another couple of months out here. I have fallen in love love love (with the place and people in general - not an individual!!)

For those of you in NZ... see you soon. For those of you not... come and visit, for those of you I´ve met on this trip - thanks for makign it memorable... and come and visit.

Travel roles

2008-01-21T09:19:00.000+13:00

Alex and I have travelled a lot togethere. Having travelled a lot together we had certain roles that each of us took becuase we were better at it than the other one. Alex looked after money (boys´ clothes just naturally have more pockets), I always organised the accomodation (partly becuase I´m fussier, partly because it just seemed like I would get rooms when Alex had just been told they were completley full for the next six weeks).

Anyway, it´s not that I can´t work exchange rates or when Alex goes traveling he can´t find places to stay and sleeps rough. It was just that we had our roles.

However there is one thing that was Alex´s role that was purely and simply because I am SHIT at it. Navigation (that´s ´finding places´ to the rest of us).

I couldn´t navigate my way out of a paper bag. I have no sense of direction. I get lost on the way to the bathroom.

But on this trip I have embraced this flaw and just not tried to go anywhere that isn´t really really close to where I am without a cab, or someone else accompanying me who can find their arse with both hands. And I haven´t been lost once (well not really, really lost, just `oh well that restaurant has obviously shut, moved or melted, I´ll just go to this one instead´lost).

Which is why I was very disappointed with myself today when I suddenly realised that when I´d left the ruins at Tulum and gone straight I should have taken a right in order to get back to my hostal.

Here is the list of reasons why this is particularly embarassing:

1. My hostal is about 600m from the ruins. I walked about 2km before I began to think I may have gone wrong
2. On my way to the ruins, I walked past a market, an info booth and some lean tos. On my way from the ruins I walked past a ticket booth and about five hotels before I suspected something was up
3. The fucking Carribean Ocean was on my left when it should have been behind me.

As landmarks go - that´s a tough one to overlook.

Back in Mexico

2008-01-20T10:05:00.000+13:00

Following the previous post I decided to catch the ferry from Caye Caulker to San Pedro and do some diving and a couple of wildlife watching tours. I had heard that San Pedro was an upmarket (and more expensive) version of Caye Caulker and they did regular jungle tours etc. Arriving on the Caye I went into the tourist office to see if they could recommend a good budget hostel. They recommended Ruby's which was also in my guidebook. They only had a double room for the first night but there were singles available after that. I was keen to get my bag dropped off and go and sort my tours so I said ok once I'd seen the double room even though even the single room was going to be the most I'd spent so far at US$20 a night.

So I went and investigated and realised that my budget wasn't going to stretch to a diving trip and a wildlife one. So I opted for diving and booked it for today. Yesterday I moved to the single room. It had a padlock on the outside to shut it and from the inside just a rusty bolt in rotton wood to hold the door shut. There was a guy sitting under my window (and when I say 'window' I mean ´fly screen' watching the world go by and drinking a bottle of whiskey. When I returned from a wander he was plastered and tried to come into my room with me.

I went out later and confirmed my dive for today and he'd passed out in the room next to mine with the door open. He soon revived though. From inside my room I could hear him shouting to women to come up to his room around eight. Not one but TWO pimps popped by to see what he needed for the night. He was very specific.

He had a buddy who he was yakking to and from the conversation (which was taking place about a metre from where I sat on my bed with just the fly screen to dull the sound) I discovered that he´d been in the US security forces, he came to SP every year and always stayed at Ruby´s, that he had plenty of booze and drugs for the night, EXACTLY what he spent his time (and money) doing and he was claiming that he had slept with me (amongst many, many others).

At this point I was pretty fucking miserable to be fair. It was only 6.30. If I was going to use the bathroom or get something to eat I was going to have to walk right past this asshole and I was REALLY conscious of the shitty lock on the door and the fact that I didn´t really have a window pane in the window hole.

The thing is this ridiculous travelling pride thing. Every backpacker has a cache of stories about shitty accomodation and transport. About food poisoning, bed bugs and near death experiences. They wear them like badges and trot them out to show how passionate they are about travel, what they´ll endure to make a dollar go further and get an extra day/week/month in Asia/Europe/Central America. And when I say ´they´I mean ´we´. I am absolutely guilty of it. I´ve had shitty rooms, dodgy food and caught buses and trains that were marginally cheeper for much lower quality. I´ve even stayed in a brothel in Singapore before and actually felt perfectly fine with a decent lock and the knowledge that in a couple of days Alex would arrive to meet me and we´d laugh about it.

But after an hour of his ranting I´d had enough. I reckoned that booze, drugs, shitty locks and a solo female traveller who knew no one in the town combo was just too big a risk. I grabbed my stuff and legged it.

Unfortunately my cards, passport and cash was in the office safe (as I was planning to be out all day the next day diving) and I only had US$40 on me to pay my national park fee. The office was locked for the night.

To make a long story a little bit shorter, I had to cancel my dive, use the money to book into the (expensive but safe safe safe) hotel affiliated with the dive shop and I got out of there as soon as I had my stuff and am now relieved to be back in Mexico.

What a day!

2008-01-17T12:15:00.000+13:00

Today I awoke to my first hangover of 2008. I remember now why I stopped drinking beer. I doubt it will be my last but I really, really did not enjoy the experience. Particularly as the plan was to go manatee watching and snorkling. I had planned to go with Alan and Julie, a Canadian couple that I met on the way to Flores in Guatemala. Peer pressure prevailed and I went. So rough but so glad.

Manatees, rays, parrot fish, pelicans, storks and a whole day on a boat. Lovely lovely lovely. Best way to shift a hangover. Although I'm still a bit seedy and definitely not drinking tonight! At least right now...

I'm in Belize (Ker, I'm totting up those countries!) which is beautiful but a lot more expensive than the other places I've been so I think I'll do some wildlife watching in the next couple of days and get out of here. Back to Mexico, a final set of ruins and a few days on the beach before the mammoth trek back home.

A couple of days ago I watched the sunrise over the jungle and Tikal and heard howler monkeys, toucans and parrots wake up. One of the best things I've done on this trip and probably ever. For those of you in NZ, if you don't want to be bored to death by photos, you should avoid me for the first couple of weeks!

Why I love New Zealand

2008-01-12T05:45:00.000+13:00

Facebook is the shit. It really is. While I was on there today loading photos I noticed that one of my kiwi friends had updated her status to ´is sad about Sir Ed´. Realising that she probably meant Sir Edmund Hillary I rushed to the NZ Herald website to find out what happened. Below is a small extract from the piece;

'To the people of the Himalayas, he was a god. Around the world, he was regarded as the greatest of adventurers, the man whose extraordinary endurance forever changed perceptions of human possibility.

And for New Zealanders, Sir Ed was everything a good bastard ought to be...'

Only only only in NZ would they say 'XX was everything a good bastard should be' on an award winning, media website.

Never in a million years would you see that on the home page of the The Guardian or The Washington Post or The Irish Times. Can you imagine? ´Today we mourn the death of the Arch Bishop of Canterbury - a thoroughly good bastard´,´Millions flocked to pay tribute to one of our nation's best bastard - Stephen Spielberg´, ´Our country is in shock on hearing of the tragic death of one of our good bastards, Eammonn Dumphy´ Atually if you left out ´good´in the last one I could imagine that in print.

I think it´s fucking brilliant. Full link below for anyone who would like to read the rest of the tribute which has some very endearing stories about a real hero.

Driving in Guatemala

2008-01-11T12:40:00.000+13:00

Here are some things I have learnt about driving (that´s being driven in my case) in Guatemala.

1. Suspension is for the WEAK.
2. (Speedlimit + 40KMPH) x (Cobbled streets + 1000 years of earthquakes/subsuidence) = (Becoming airborne x a lot)
3. Vehicles in front of you are to be taken over AT ALL COSTS and regardless of speed, size or proximity to oncoming traffic.
4. Use of a single indicator makes you a pussy. If indicators must be used, use your hazards and keep your options open
5. Car jacks are not to be relied on. However this does not mean that you should inconvenience any of the people by asking them to get out of the vehicle while you change a tyre.
6. Sometime animals just like to hang out on the road.
7. If you´re taking the corners at the right speed, the centrifugal force should extract DNA from your passengers.
8. You should accelerate AS FAST AS YOU CAN as soon as all doors are shut. This will aid the passengers who are still standing to find their seats. If they find them with their face rather than their arse... well at least they´ll reach their destination 1/8th of a second faster.
9. If you are a passenger and attempt to rest your head on ANYTHING in an attempt to sleep, you will aquire a dent in it. This dent will be painful but you will be utterly unable to stop yourself from prodding it for the next four days to see if you can still fit your finger inside it.
10. If you get a ridiculously cheap fare it´s because they are paying their driver youth rates. They are paying him youth rates because he is a youth. I.e 14 tops.
11. 14 year old drivers are much more cautious and look like they´re going to cry when you all almost die. Which is nice.
12. If you are hot and the fans aren´t working. Simply mention it to your driver. He will very helpfully, scoot over to the passenger side of the vehicle and and open the other window. It´s important to note that he will definitely still be driving at the time. He may even be overtaking.
13. Sitting in the front seat or anywhere where you can see how close you almost came to hitting whatever if was is foolish, foolish, foolish.
14. Beeping is the punctuation of the highway. It is to be used regularly.
15. No matter how much you tell yourself that your outfit is comprised of sufficient layers to perfectly match all altitudes, speeds, seasons, times of the day and level of exposure to the elements/ open air nature of the vehicle, it fucking isn´t. You will be FREEZING at some point. At another point you will be far, far, far far far too hot. This may repeat depending on the journey.

Are you serious?

2008-01-10T09:39:00.000+13:00

I will preface this with a disclaimer. I am not a touch typist and this keyboard had has all of the letters apart from qwypfj rubbed off.

When it comes to jewlellery, as I often say, I´m definitely quantity over quality. I generally prefer the look of tat to expensive stuff, I crave variety and I lose earrings at a scary pace. But occasionally when I travel I do like to try to get somehting ´nice´and local. The big four here are silver, jade, obsidian and turquoise. I´ve alteady stocked up on silver as that falls into the same price bracket as tat in many places. Now buying jade in CA and taking it back to NZ is a bit sand to Arabs and snow to Eskimos and obsidian - neh. But Turquoise is my birth stone, and pretty, so I´ve had a look at a few shops.

Today I went into a jade shop thinking they would have turquise also. They didn´t. But they did have a very smart looking and smiley man who I said good afternoon to and smiles at before realising he was holding a BIG FUCKING MACHINE GUN.

Tribute to a faithful travel companion

2008-01-09T06:44:00.000+13:00

Having ignored the absolutely true adage, a stitch in time saves nine, my rucksack lid has needed major surgery to halt the decline of the seams and prevent it coming away in someone´s hand, possibly as it was being lifted onto the roof of a bus. Today it got to crisis stage and I finally had a chance to track down a needle and thread in a hardware shop.

I bought twenty needles, partly because this was the quantity they came in and partly because sewing through two layers of that fake canvas they make rucksacks out of, two layers of waterproofing and, in some cases, a triple reinforced seem, I anticipated it would take about ten needles to repair the twenty or so cm of damage.

Now I know that it´s a funny thing to pick as your first thing to RAVE about when you get to a new country (and let me be clear- I am finding Guatemala enchanting and will no doubt prattle on about that at some stage soon), but these needles were frickin fantastic. Seriously. I didn´t break a single one! You could sew rhino hide with these babies.

My sewing is rough as bricks and rucksack is not pretty but what rucksack is?

I bought my rucksack in Scotland and since then it has flown, bussed, hitched, ferried, trained, trekked, shuttled, cabbed, biked, sailed, hiked, driven, scootered and riden through 20 countries with me. It´s been thrown, slid, hefted, hoisted, dragged, dumped, dropped and pulled by every possible strap, support and grip on it thousands of times.

Its harness had to be replaced after a particularly disastrous attempt to hitch in a national park in Kangaroo island, South Australia, it´s missing one of it´s clips and it is truly truly FILTHY in an ingrained, will never again be clean, kind of way. I think this is its last trip.

The next inatallment

2008-01-08T15:01:00.000+13:00

It´s been a whirlwind I tell ya. A real whirlwind.

I´m currently in Panajachel in Guatemala having just crossed the Mexican border a few hours ago.

After the blissful holiday with the clan in what was really really a BEAUTIFUL resort, I have gone solo and have visited Campeche, Pallanque, San Cristobel de la Casa and, as mentioned, am currently in Pana on Lake Atitlan. So much to tell so will share some highs and lows.

HIGHS (in no particular order)
Seeing the fam
Having dolphins under the bedroom window every morning while I was in Cancun
Completely, completely relaxing after a big year
New Years in Mexico with my clan
Old buildings - some of them really old!
Lovely, lovely people
Realising that arriving in a new place will never, ever lose it´s appeal for me
Being able to do exactly what I want

Lows
Getting slightly sick for the whole time I was in Cancun meaning that my one attempt to dive turned into an expensive lesson that equalising is not possible when you´ve got a runny nose
Getting groped outside a church and realising I don´t know the Spanish for 'fuck off'

I think that´s it for the lows. Not bad for three weeks of travel I reckon.

For those of you on Facebook I am trying my hardest to upload some photos but it´s proving a challenge. For those of you not on Facebook.... get on there, this is 2008 for chrissakes!

Next installment

2008-01-02T13:48:00.000+13:00

So Im writing this in stages and way behind but I did really want to relay this story as i think i have unearhted a sinister international conspiracy.

I got to the airport in Mexico City to fly to meet the fam in Cancun. Now my experiences of flying in Peru taught me that flight times are a guideline at best. So I wasn't 100% sure that I would be landing on time. However...

She said somehting quickly in Spanish and although I don't speak Spanish I'm pretty sure that she said that my tickets had been cancelled. I repeated it in english and she nodded and went on typing furiously. Evenetually the guy on the next desk leaned in and said, 'Your flight's been cancelled' When i aksed why, he simply said 'No pilots' in the same way that you might say, 'we're out of diet coke'. 'Ah,' I said.

Eventually they put me on a flight leaving three hours later.

However the clan were planning to meet me at the airport as their flight was getting in at roughly the same time. I asked if I could call the hotel in Cancun. I was sent to the information desk.

Eventually I spoke to someone who took me into a back office and introduced me to a girl who could make a phonecall for me. I felt bad interrupting her cigarette break (there was a lit cig smouldering away on her keyboard) but she was very nice. Unfortunately I didn't have the number for the hotel. I suggested the internet. This illicited gasps of incredulity, 'We don't have inernet in this office!' Or a phone book or in fact anyway of looking up a number.

So I went to an internet hub and failed to find the website for the hotel. I found a million websites where I could book a room in the hotel, a million places where i could look at pictures. But noone had a freakin number. So I had a brainwave. I'll leave a message with their airline.

So I walked to the international section of the irport. Queued for 40 mins in the check in queue which doubled as a info queue. When I got to the top of the line, I told the gent from American Airlines that I wanted to get a message to American Airlines in Cancun, 'You want to get a message to American Airlines in Cancun?!?!?! That is impossible. How would i do that?' Eventually he recommended that I call them. So I asked for a number for their Cancun office. This resulted in a many more raised eye brows and looks implying I was asking for something entirely unreasonable. Eventually he gave me a number in the states for customer service and I treked back to my airline and queued again for the info desk.

To make a long story short when I eventually got to call AA I got a 'computer says no' response. It is impossible to get messages to people travelling on AA. Under any circumstaces.

So here's my theory. The airline industry survives only because some things just have to be done in person. Attending weddings, diving in the carribean, celebrating xmas with your family. However modern telecommunications, (phone, internet, email, teleconference etc) is making the more mundane, day to day stuff possible without any travel. The airline industry is resisting this by not embracing any of this technology themselves and making it as hard as possible to communicate (even internally!!) with people. Bastards. I bet not a single one of them has a decent internal communications manager.

I love Mexico... anyone surprised?

2007-12-28T07:18:00.000+13:00

I'm having a ball ball ball. So much so that it's taken this long for me to haul my self out of Lazy Assland and start to update my blog.... so the story so far. Possibly in a couple of installments.

The guidebook had thoroughly freaked me out about crime and danger in Mexico City. Although I have to say that if I'd read it and was planning to travel with someone else, I probably wouldn't have worried so much. This was added to by getting in my cab to my hostal and being told that the steet it was on was closed for the xmas festival. What followed was a conversation between my cabbie and a concerned sort of concierge, which my limited spanish loosely interpreted as, "Get her as close as you can and then call a policaman over to take her the rest of the way" Either way, it was no more dangerous than, or at least I felt just as comfortable as I have in, any other major city in the world. I made my own way to the hostal.

I spent my birthday in Mexico City. Pretty much the only thing I miss (apart from the people) about living in NZ is old stuff. So I spent the whole day in museums, catherdrals and art galleries. It. Was. Lovely. And then I stumbled across the Sheraton. You see a colleague had told me that they do great Margaritas. Two Margaritas later the jet lag hit me like a ton of bricks and the day was over.

But it was a brilliant brilliant brilliant day. Although when I come back I will make sure that I speak Spanish. I created much amusement trying to buy cream of the sun and telling a cab driver that I am from Ireland but I bedroom in New Zealand.

Also I am angry at living up to the stereotype and getting a cold, so no diving so far... but it's coming.

Have to hand over the laptop (I'm on Donal's). Will update again later.

Hope everyone had a lovely xmas and is gearing up for the New Years of a live time.

First of many

2007-12-22T16:53:00.000+13:00

I°m here. Iàm in Mexico city. Iàve been awake for about thirty hours. But Iàm here. I canàt use the keyboard... can you tell?

Anyway Iàm off to shower and go to sleep. Canàt wait to lie down FLAT.

Ooh ooh ooh though... I bought a camera... watch this space!

Apologies

2007-12-17T20:35:00.000+13:00

Hi folks.

It's been a while. I'm aware of this. I have several excuses but they are all work related so I'll skip them....

...and say that I'm going to Mexico next week. I will be updating my blog. I will make it interesting. I will be back i the land of the sane, and the free (time) and the people who have time to do normal things.

Talk soon

One other thing...

2007-09-18T21:25:00.000+12:00

As an addendum to the last post.... Kerry has poted a video on You Tube which has some highlights of the christening. Obviously I cried.

Even if you're not interested in the christening for some reasons there are some very cool NZ photos at the end.

Sophia's Christening

I also love the statement of non faith that Kerry has used in the sound track.

I suspect this was Jeff's idea

Inexplicable emotion

2007-09-16T21:22:00.001+12:00

I am not a church goer. In fact I'd say I have not been inside a church of my own volition (and by that I mean other than for a wedding or funeral) snce I was about 18. But today my friends Jake and Kelley were having their daughter Sophia christened and it seemed like a worthy occassion to cehck out St Patrck's Cathedral which I walked or drove past pretty much every day for four years when I worked at UDC.

It was an 'ocassion' for many reasons. There was an Arch Bishop heading off to another Parish, it was the first Mass since they had refrubished the cathedral and baby Sophia was having her soul safe guarded- or whatever it is that happens when you get christened.

Anyway the mass seemed to be longer than I remember about two hours - although it may not have started on time since I couldn't find parking and arrived half an hour late.

I'm definitely a crier. Weddings, speeches, ads. It doesn't take much to get me going but usually the emotions are down to sentimentality I can explain. Today as we went through the mass, I found myself getting weepy at weird times. Like times other than when Sophia was being baptised, just random times in the middle of the service.

I have no idea why. I can't even tell you if the tears were happy / sad / nostalgic. I have no idea. None. Maybe I just needed a cry?

Sick cough

2007-09-11T10:26:00.000+12:00

I'm at home sick. I forgot how boring it is. However I am spoiling myself with enough tea to drown a small child.

I still have a problem with the neighbour's cat. It is coming into my house and terrorising my cats. Pinot is peeing on the furniture and panics whenever the cat flap goes and her skin is starting to get flaky and dry- a really bad sign.

I want to do BAD things to this cat. Not to actually endanger it but to make it so shit scared of my house that it never never comes back.

So how should I do this? Some options below:

1. Close the outside of the cat flap so next time it comes in it's trapped. Then throw a bucket of water over it (there are some very obvious cons to this with regards to my house however I am deperate).

2. Electrify the cat flap. This involves putting my cats ina cattery for a week or so until the cat learns that my cat flap is a danger zone.

3. Have the cat assasinated

By the way I tried magnetic collars but the cat flap is on a funny angle so basically it didn't open for any of the cats - mine included

Already sick of it

2007-09-05T20:35:00.000+12:00

I do love NZ. I really really do. I've even attempted to get a little bit into the national sport- rugby. I have attended two test matches. That's double the number soccer games I have atended having grown up with a dad who was soccer CRAZY.

But I am already thoroughly, utterly, totally, completely, 110% SICK of the fucking Rugby Wolrd cup. Every day the newspapers and TV and radio news programmes are full full full of All Blacks. They've arrived in Europe, they've had photo opps with footballers even how fricken long it would take a room full of hackers to break their training code.

In the meantime several finance companies have tipped over leaving hundreds of people who had saved for early retirement with nothing, the PM is in an all out fight with a former PM, Australia and Air NZ, an Iranian refugee almost starved himself to death to protest his deportation and th paper is full of photos of the (admitedly stinking hot) swimming All Blacks

Scent of a lemon

2007-08-20T20:52:00.000+12:00

I made a dinner that featured an amount of lemon juice.

Therefore my fingers smell of lemons.

Therefore I keep thinking about gin and tonic.

Therefore I REALLY want a gin and tonic.

We don't have any tonic.

Incidentally, just as I finished the above sentenced some Calista Flockhart in her new show claimed that she didn't sleep with the man whore at her work, the gin slept with the man whore at her work.

I still want a gin. What does this say about me?

Good mood/ bad mood

2007-08-12T19:35:00.000+12:00

Hello there. I thought I'd share a summary of my weekend and resulting fluctuations in mood.

It started with my addiction to Scrabulous spinning out of control. Still I won a few before I left the office - good mood!

In a bid to save time as am now late for dinner, decide to bypass supermarket in favour of off licence for booze. Try three before I find one that stocks my hosts' beer of choice (Corona) but at twice the price of the supermarket and mediocre wine at premium prices. Reduced good mood.

Get to Claire and Darryl's and drink the extortionate alcohol, eat the fabulous red curry and have great chat with great mates - excellent mood.

Toddle on home (they only live around the corner from me so left my car at theirs). Wake up only slightly hungover - Middling mood.

Walk around to get my car to find a smashed driver's side window - Bad mood

Talk to insurance and find out that so long as I only claim the smashed window (and not Pink Floyd's 'Dark side of the Moon' cd and Nifty Streets 'Silly Sausages' cd) it doesn't effect my no claims bonus - good mood.

Get back in the car to take it to the glass place and realise that the shower of cunting fucks who smashed my window also stole my A-Z - sort of vengeful, angry, homicidal mood.

Get to glass place and they say they don't stock the glass for my car - bad mood - but they can put in a vinyl thing so at least if it rains my car won't flood - better mood.

Decide today to celebrate my new job and cheer myself up by spending money I don't have on clothes I don't need. Find dress I love but in wrong fabric in Vanilla Ink in Mt Eden - dejected mood.

But they have it in the right fabric on the North Shore - exultant mood.

Cross the Harbour Bridge in gale force cross winds with vinyl window immediatly to the right of my face desperatly trying to escape the gaff tape holding it to my car, shatter into a million pieces and kill me by piercing by brain via my eyeball, causing me to careen into other cars and cause a multiple car pile up and several deaths - exceptionally fearful mood.

Repeat the above on the way back. But have THE DRESS so - ok mood.

Go to St Lukes shopping mall to get wrapping paper for a birthday present. Get back to car and cannot get into it. The remote isn't working and it seems the fuckers who broke into my car also fucked the locks because I can't get the key in - bad. mood.

Go to phone AA, realise I have left my phone at home - pissed

Lovely lady in shop let's me use their phone, lends me pen and paper, walks me to the part of the labarynthine car part where the AA meet you and even offers to stay wth me (I decline) - overwhelming sense of the goodness of humanity

90 minutes later I am still in the undercover car park, it's dark, the shops have been shut for an hour and, apart from a few yoofs, it's deserted - very impatient and slightly aprehensive mood.

AA man shows up, takes me to my car, breaks in, can offer no advice other than, "Don't lock your car and take it to the dealer tomorrow. If they tell you they're busy tell them the customer is alsways right and ask to speak to their boss and then his boss and then his boss" - resigned and baffled mood

Am now back at home and have realised that instead of spending the bulk of the weekend working and cleaning as planned I spent it shopping and doing car stuff.

So it's all worked out in the end.

FACEBOOK...

2007-08-08T21:57:00.000+12:00

... is taking over my life.

That sucks as an excuse not to update your blog and so here are some other ones:

I have a new job. Still in the same place but a different role. The role I have been in for a year is really bus at the moment and I am kind of starting to do the other one too. So I finished work at 9.30 tonight. Not bad as didn't finish until 10.30 the other night. Also have been working weekend etc.

Whinge over but there you are. That's why I haven't been blogging

Rating

2007-07-05T12:26:00.000+12:00

This has made me want to try harder as Shazzle's is R for Restricted

Pissy Pinot

2007-07-05T08:09:00.000+12:00

Pinot has a new trick. I call it "the pissing indoors trick". I don't like this new trick very much (particularly as my place is so tinchy that you couldn't swing a cat - pissy or otherwise - so the pee pong gets overpowering REALLY fast). "Maybe she has a kidney infection," suggested my Mum. So I took her to the vet and it turns out she doesn't like the trick very much either.

My cat has an anxiety disorder. She is not peeing, she is spraying. This is becasue she is unhappy in our new house (two neighbour cats like nothing more than beating her up when she's outside and glaring at her from the other side of the window when she's inside) and recent activity (having the place water blasted and spending a whole day cleaning the inside and rearranging all of the furniture) have tipped her over the edge into full on nervous breakdown mode.

My cat is actually mentally ill. Da baba.

So she spent the night at the vet's last night (to be extra sure and rule out the kidney infection) and she will be on cat Prozac for the next month. The vet told me to check all vertical serfucases for pee stains. Walls, cupboards, bookcases.... BOOKCASES.

If we had a fire and I lost absolutely everything, assuming I got my cats out, the only thing I would mourn the loss of would be my books. More than my photos even. I have shipped books from Ireland at huge cost. I have a couple of first editions, I have some books with inscriptions that are sentimentally very important to me. I also have books form NZ that mean a lot to me, or, are just downright, fucking great books.

When I got home first stop was the bookcases.

Bedroom bookcase.... clear
Bookcase by TV.... clear
Bookcase by dining table........ . . . . . . . .

The left hand side wasn't so bad. She had peed up against some cookbooks, some of them from overseas, but all in dust jackets. The right hand side has a complete works of Shakepeare and Oxford Book of American Short Stories that will never be quite the same.

It never rains but it pours

2007-07-02T17:19:00.000+12:00

I'm a toastmasters right? I've mentioned that here before. I do a leetle bit of public speaking. In my own time. For my own development, peace of mind etc.

Sometimes I do have to use it at work. Or I use elements of the shit sandwich to couch feedback. But it's not like it's a lifestyle choice or anything. It's just a now and again kind of thing.

Well.

Last week I got invited to speak at a conference. I should qualify this immediately by saying that they seem to have just emailed every single comms person in New Zealand. I would not like to give the impression that I was head hunted or specifically sought after as this would be blatantly misleading.

So anyway, I accepted. I'll be giving a 45 minute presentation on internal communications during change with five mins Q&A at the end. Ha. Hilarious don't you think. In a kind of , "What the FUCK was I thinking kind of way." And then I got the agenda and saw who my co-presenters are. Oh I see. I won't go into it, but these would be well known industry types.

Today the secretary at my Toastmasters club asked me if I'd be keen to be involved in a Toastmasters fundraiser. Every year there are competitions and the NZ champ goes to the States to compete in the worlds. As TM is a not for profit, they hold fundraisers to raise money for the airfare, accommodation etc.

Sure, I'll be involved.

And then he sent me through the agenda for the event:

Robin Grieve Current NZ Champion
David Nottage 1996 World Champion
Brett Rutledge 1998 World Champion
Ivan Pivac Blind speaker on Hitchhiking and motivational speaker Kevin Prohl Four times NZ Toastmaster of the Year MC and speaker
Kathy Torpie Inspirational speaker
Clinton Jones Humorous speaker/motivational speaker
Lorraine Breheny Humorous speaker

Apparently I will be delivering a seven minute 'humorous' speech followed by and IMPROMPTU session with David, Brett, Robin and Kevin.

Hahahahahahahahahaha (to be read in a high-pitched, bordering on the hysterical tone).

Fuck.

You know...

2007-06-27T11:43:00.000+12:00

.... when you're just so fruckin busy that you might as well just throw your hands up in the air, down tools and update your blog?

Well that's where I am at the moment. I have been FRANTIC all morning, I am leaving the office in 1.5 hours to go to the venue of the event I'm organising tonight and if I don't take 15 minutes to stop running around, clear my head and do something completely different it's all going to go terribly wrong.

So here's the thing- this. I'm doing this.

My laptop is on the blink. It is under warranty and if I ever get home before 6.30 when the helpdesk closes I will get it fixed. But that's not going to happen tonight.

The good news is that I have tomorrow off to recover from the event I am organising (it's a party for 120 people celebrating the end of a MAJOR project - there will be a lot of free alcohol). I might get to it then.

Although I also have a gigantic amount of cleaning to do - more about this in future posts. I've just remembered something I need to do very urgently.

You see- taking time out really works.

Suzuki Swift

2007-06-19T22:59:00.000+12:00

So back to my comments on other people's marketing...

There is currently and ad on the telly for the new suzuki swift. In case you haven't seen it I will summarize.

Two girls are on the side of the road attempting to hitch hike. The have a sign that says 'city'. A reasonably hot farmer type pulls up in his manly ute, complete with bales of hay. The girls wrinkle up their faces and give him he thumbs down. He drive off.

Next is the surfer dude, sun kissed with a board on the roof. The girls wave him on.

The next candidate is a guy in a suzuki swift. The girls high five and wave their 'city' sign frantically. The gent looks like he can't believe his luck.

Cut to next scene. Girls are driving away in the Swift and the guy is on the side of the road looking glum and holding a sign that says 'help'.

Advertising campaigns generally have a 'single minded proposition', if there is one message you want potential consumers to take away, this is it. For example, "This will get my clothes clean and keep my whites white" or "These people will really look after my money" or "Using this product will get me laid".

So with this in mind what did the folks at Suzuki want their SMP to be for this ad?

"Driven by the kind of blokes who get car jacked by girls"??

Well hello there

2007-06-17T17:56:00.001+12:00

Someone emailed me the other day to point out it had been more than a month since I wrote in this.

Bad Lorraine.

So what should we talk about?

Well today I went to see the Dalai Lama. In a stadium with 10,000 other people, including the Mayor of Auckland who introduced the Dalai Lama and wrapped up at the end.

Note I say the Mayor of Auckland. Not the Prime Minister. Both the leader of the government and the opposition in New Zealand refused to meet this man.

The title of his speech was compassion and kindness. In that vein I will refrain from the rant that is simmering away at the moment. However I don't think I'm being unkind in saying what I'm about to.

There are a number of global leaders who are objectionable above and beyond merely their politics; leaders who infringe on human rights or allow infringements to go unchecked in the countries they lead; leaders who are mouth pieces for terrorists or overtly terrorists themselves. Morally you can legitimately reject the opportunity to meet with these people. And by that standard you could include Nelson Mandela and most of the current political leadership in Northern Ireland in the list of people you have the right to not meet.

But somehow I don't see that happening.

I am not a particularly political person and I don't claim to know every in and out of this situation. However, this is a man who represents to pretty much everyone, well, compassion and kindness. And for the Prime Minister to refuse to meet him is shameful.

Er - Yuk

2007-05-14T21:04:00.000+12:00

The other day I left my trackie bottoms draped over the end of the bed. When I came to bed Pinot was VERY interested in them.

'Hmm,' I thought, 'I must have run past something interesting and now my trousers smell interesting.'

She was really going for it. Biting, hanging off them with her claws, scrabbling at them etc etc.

Anyway, I put them a bit higher up and we all went to sleep.

Then yesterday I put them on. I could feel something sticking into me. Inside the right trouser leg. Around about my knee.

I reached down and pulled out a weta.

Let me introduce you to the weta again.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Weta#Tree_weta

On brand?

2007-05-08T21:12:00.000+12:00

One of the projects I am working on at work is the redesign of our car livery. The pretty pictures that make our cars look like cars that belong to the company I work for. So while being a marketer makes me generally interested in whether something visual fits with what I think the company represents, I'm particularly inerested in cars at the moment.

Twice this week on my way to work I have driven behind a car that belongs to a company called Vixen. Now I was not familiar with the products and or services of this company but there were some clues on the car.

1. Vixen as a name is suggestive but www.vixen.co.nz is immediatly a flashing sign for a site with some kind of 'adult' content.
2. The surround on the personalised plate said, "Over 18? Visit our site"
3. And there was a larger than life, barely legal section of a woman's scantily, but racily, clad body.
So without even going to the site, it's clear that this is some kind of adult entertainment, I was guessing an online store for sex toys.

I was right. However, if you feel you need to check, you have a reasonable excuse should your partner/flatmate/mum catch you.

So reasonably 'on brand' right? Without knowing what they actually offered, with the combo of the surround, name and imagery I took a stab and got it right.

So what's the point?

Well, the first time there was something that made me do a double take. Something that made it not quite... credible.

The car had the visual elements all in line with its offering,

But it was a people carrier. A family wagon. Mum's Taxi.

There's. Something. Just. Not. Quite. Right. About it.

ClaireFund

2007-05-02T12:44:00.000+12:00

My flattie Claire K works for TearFund which does raises money to help in the developing world, This includes child sponsorship. So we were almost obliged to make this video for here 30th bday

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2cH34YAVOXg

And then there were the outtakes:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nH-X7uT4qWI&mode=related&search

Parallel parking

2007-05-02T12:31:00.000+12:00

There is lots of free parking around my office. In the interest of geting the one closest to the building I have become VERY good at parallel parking.

But even I was impressed when I managed to wedge myself so tightly between two cars that I was touching at both bumpers. Luckily I recognised the car at the rear. In a bit of a panic I called Nicole (who I work with) to ask her to come down and move her car so that I wasn't quite so tightly wedged.

Nicole came down alright. But onlyonce she had grabbed the digital camera and told the ENTIRE marketing team to look out the window at me and my car.

No idea how I managed to get in there. None.