There's a Tsunami warning!!!!!
I'll report back once it's over.....
Edit: We're all good here in NZ, but our hearts go out to all those caught up in this disaster, here or in Samoa.
Wednesday
Tuesday
tuesday morning psych 101...
I recently handed in a paper concerning the universal facial expressions shared by human beans and quite a few monkies worldwide (the exception to the rule here is the lady on the infomercial selling collagen pills, she only has one expression it seems...stunned mullet).
It appears this is a subject that has found it's way into the US crime show genre, as I caught an episode of 'Lie to Me' on TV recently where Gary Oldman (what the! first Hughie on House, now Gaz, has the world gone mad) found the baddies by studying blown up photo's of Bill Clinton, Saddam Hussein and Britney Spears.... still if the FBI can solve crimes with a couple of mad professors and a maths book who am I to argue?
Here are the things causing my face to contort in a universal manner this week;
Disgust: Hearing my son speak, with awed reverence, about a boy at school who pooed in a pencilcase!!!!!!!!!!!
This disgusted me on so many levels I don't even know where to begin, suffice to say the conversation about appropriate behaviour, role models and consequences was a lengthy one.
Surprise: New Zealand has an inorganic collection every now and again. In a nutshell, if you have rubbish you would normally hire a skip for, don't! On collection day just pop it all on the street and the council will whisk it away, free of charge. I love 'inorganic', as my neighbours throw away the most excellent stuff, it's like an enormous free garage sale. My reputation as a rubbish junkie seems to be spreading though, as imagine my surprise when 2 lovely pieces of furniture were deposited on my verandah by a couple of strapping young men. Slap has taken to calling me Fagin....hmmm, the bit of large nose which is no longer there has started itching.
Anger: I pay an extortionate amount for broadband, far more than is right and fair...however by the 3rd week in every month we have dropped back to dial up speed as we have exceeded our usage amount. Bloody ridiculous...I'm stopping here as otherwise I will rant and rave and all my paranoid ramblings about 'the man' will have you hitting the off switch immediately.
Happiness: I have an old-fashioned pen pal thanks to a bun can dance and her letter swap. Tonight is book club and I am hosting it.
Even though redundancy sucks, it means I have someone to walk on the beach with everyday, someone who cooks me dinner everyday, someone to chat to on the phone when work gets a bit boring, who does the housework/washing/shopping everyday, and is becoming so bored with his own company that he finds me and my day incredibly interesting and his eyes don't slide even if the football is on.
Selfish, moi?
Sadness: I bawled last night at the masterpiece theatre edition of "A room with a view'. I don't know why as I've seen it with Bonham-Carter et al, and although sad it didn't affect me like the Timothy Spall version. Is Rafe Spall his son...? Whatever, I loved him in the role of George...he was almost stalker like, creepy but still rather attractive.
Fear: Ever since a letter came home from school warning of the nit pandemic currently screaming through the classrooms I can't stop itching. I'm pretty sure it's psychosomatic as the kids are all liceless, but I'm too frightened to look as my love of all things squeaky clean would mean the only course of action that would appease my OCD, would include shaving my head. I kid you not!
It appears this is a subject that has found it's way into the US crime show genre, as I caught an episode of 'Lie to Me' on TV recently where Gary Oldman (what the! first Hughie on House, now Gaz, has the world gone mad) found the baddies by studying blown up photo's of Bill Clinton, Saddam Hussein and Britney Spears.... still if the FBI can solve crimes with a couple of mad professors and a maths book who am I to argue?
Here are the things causing my face to contort in a universal manner this week;
Disgust: Hearing my son speak, with awed reverence, about a boy at school who pooed in a pencilcase!!!!!!!!!!!
This disgusted me on so many levels I don't even know where to begin, suffice to say the conversation about appropriate behaviour, role models and consequences was a lengthy one.
Surprise: New Zealand has an inorganic collection every now and again. In a nutshell, if you have rubbish you would normally hire a skip for, don't! On collection day just pop it all on the street and the council will whisk it away, free of charge. I love 'inorganic', as my neighbours throw away the most excellent stuff, it's like an enormous free garage sale. My reputation as a rubbish junkie seems to be spreading though, as imagine my surprise when 2 lovely pieces of furniture were deposited on my verandah by a couple of strapping young men. Slap has taken to calling me Fagin....hmmm, the bit of large nose which is no longer there has started itching.
Anger: I pay an extortionate amount for broadband, far more than is right and fair...however by the 3rd week in every month we have dropped back to dial up speed as we have exceeded our usage amount. Bloody ridiculous...I'm stopping here as otherwise I will rant and rave and all my paranoid ramblings about 'the man' will have you hitting the off switch immediately.
Happiness: I have an old-fashioned pen pal thanks to a bun can dance and her letter swap. Tonight is book club and I am hosting it.
Even though redundancy sucks, it means I have someone to walk on the beach with everyday, someone who cooks me dinner everyday, someone to chat to on the phone when work gets a bit boring, who does the housework/washing/shopping everyday, and is becoming so bored with his own company that he finds me and my day incredibly interesting and his eyes don't slide even if the football is on.
Selfish, moi?
Sadness: I bawled last night at the masterpiece theatre edition of "A room with a view'. I don't know why as I've seen it with Bonham-Carter et al, and although sad it didn't affect me like the Timothy Spall version. Is Rafe Spall his son...? Whatever, I loved him in the role of George...he was almost stalker like, creepy but still rather attractive.
Fear: Ever since a letter came home from school warning of the nit pandemic currently screaming through the classrooms I can't stop itching. I'm pretty sure it's psychosomatic as the kids are all liceless, but I'm too frightened to look as my love of all things squeaky clean would mean the only course of action that would appease my OCD, would include shaving my head. I kid you not!
Saturday
movie poster makeover...
I have been hanging out for this weekend!
It's been so busy recently that I feel I've barely spent a minute at home, and I've missed it horribly.
Today though has been perfect. It's overcast and gloomy, so the siren call of the beach has been easily ignored. I've sewn, painted, glued and just generally pottered....bliss!
This is the perfect project for a grey day.
Buy some cheap and cheerful movie posters (I found mine on Trade Me, $5 each)
Paint a couple of canvasses and mount the posters.
Hang above your blogging bay and enjoy!
Have a perfect, pottering weekend!
It's been so busy recently that I feel I've barely spent a minute at home, and I've missed it horribly.
Today though has been perfect. It's overcast and gloomy, so the siren call of the beach has been easily ignored. I've sewn, painted, glued and just generally pottered....bliss!
This is the perfect project for a grey day.
Buy some cheap and cheerful movie posters (I found mine on Trade Me, $5 each)Paint a couple of canvasses and mount the posters.
Hang above your blogging bay and enjoy!Have a perfect, pottering weekend!
Wednesday
Saturday
ta da!
I'm only here for a flying visit...since redundancy struck I've had to give up my lady hours and have taken on another THREE...count 'em, THREE...jobs to keep those pennies rolling in.
Please believe me, it's not just blogging that has suffered. The sewing machine lies idle next to my camera, my paint brushes have dried up and died, I can't remember the last time I went a thrifting and 'dolly' has threatened to run off with a one legged action man recently home on leave from army manoeuvres under the bed.
HOWEVER....imagine my delight when I click clacked open my comment box to find that the lovely A Bun Can Dance had left me an award....I know! Thank you missus, you made my day.
So, onto the requested list;
Please believe me, it's not just blogging that has suffered. The sewing machine lies idle next to my camera, my paint brushes have dried up and died, I can't remember the last time I went a thrifting and 'dolly' has threatened to run off with a one legged action man recently home on leave from army manoeuvres under the bed.
HOWEVER....imagine my delight when I click clacked open my comment box to find that the lovely A Bun Can Dance had left me an award....I know! Thank you missus, you made my day.
So, onto the requested list;
7 Things You Didn't Know About Me
2. I've been on T.V.
3. Which in a winding sort of meander brings me to unknown fact number three. I've had a nose job.
4. When my cell phone rings it plays 'Smells like Teen Spirit' by Nirvana.
5. My sister and law and I could have been separated at birth.
6. I'm coeliac, which sucks!
7. I am prone to horribly embarrassing incidents.
"What on earth are you doing"
"You said breast check"
"No madam, I said best check"
Oh Lord, the shame....I'm squirming!!!
1. I have the sort of laugh that Esther Rantzen used to feature on 'That's Life', slotted in between the funny shaped veg and the jolly postman from Hampshire.
It starts out with a series of loud barks, incorporates a snort and a gurgling, gulping noise and finishes off with a Sid James dirty chuckle. I am incredibly envious of those tinkling bells, girlish, giggly types, however I lament that it may be too late to change now. On a positive note if you lose me in a throng, just ring my mobile, tell me a joke and then watch for the spot where the crowd clears and there are calls for a doctor.
2. I've been on T.V.
Back in the day, Slap was a bit of a muso and in my role as number one groupie I saw an awful lot of bands. At a live screening of 'The Word' on channel 4, I was filmed moshing to 'The Manic Street Preachers'. This in itself is no mean feat, however at the time of said mosh I had only just given birth to Lil, in fact
(look away now if you are of a sensitive disposition)
I still had the stitches in...yeuckkk!
Until three days ago, this fact ( T.V. not stitches) was just the stuff of urban myth, but extraordinarily, I now have proof of my 15 seconds. If you type into a youtube search, manic street preachers the word, and then click on the live performance 1991, you'll notice a very curly haired, large nosed woman laughing maniacally and 'having it large' before she is unceremoniously face planted onto the stage.....Good Times!
(look away now if you are of a sensitive disposition)
I still had the stitches in...yeuckkk!
Until three days ago, this fact ( T.V. not stitches) was just the stuff of urban myth, but extraordinarily, I now have proof of my 15 seconds. If you type into a youtube search, manic street preachers the word, and then click on the live performance 1991, you'll notice a very curly haired, large nosed woman laughing maniacally and 'having it large' before she is unceremoniously face planted onto the stage.....Good Times!
3. Which in a winding sort of meander brings me to unknown fact number three. I've had a nose job.
Not much to say here except it was big and bent, now it's medium sized and bent. I'll never win a beautiful nose award but at least people no longer pretend to have been poked in the eye if I turn around quickly!
4. When my cell phone rings it plays 'Smells like Teen Spirit' by Nirvana.
Not only is this my own personal homage to the rock god Kurt Cobain, but it's also in recognition of the fact that 90% of all calls made to my phone are from smelly teenagers.
5. My sister and law and I could have been separated at birth.
Although she has been my in law for at least 15 years now, due to a series of unfortunate events we only met a year ago and I'm so glad we did! We look alike, aspire to the same things, think alike, are obsessive op shoppers, make each other laugh heaps (although she is a girlish giggler) and have incredibly similar tastes. Strangest of all though is a shared admiration for odd men. I adore a skinny man with a speech impediment and K lusts after baldies with scars. Even stranger, neither of these images bears any similarity to the men we married...go figure?
6. I'm coeliac, which sucks!
I was diagnosed about 12 years ago and now forgo all things gluten, which sucks! Although there are now far more doughy treats available for the allergic amongst us, they are, inevitably, horribly expensive and I've yet to bake a gluten free cake that tastes as good as it's wheaty counterpart, which sucks! From time to time I throw caution to the winds and binge on bakery goods, however this always leaves me feeling rather poorly and sorry for myself, which sucks like a hoover!
7. I am prone to horribly embarrassing incidents.
I'm not sure why, but they just keep on happening. Around the dinner table the kids love to recount the cringingly embarrassing things I've done or situations I've found myself in over the years, but I'm about to divulge a hideous secret that still has the power to make me squirm in my seat.
When I was pregnant with Alf (third child), my regular check up with the doctor, on this occasion, required a breast check. No problem there except that it was a very cold day and so the subsequent removal of at least 5 layers of wool, a pair of dungarees and a bra that had suddenly acquired a padlock and key left me rather red faced and huffing. Add to this the rather odd technique employed by the doctor of checking my breasts whilst I was sitting on the bed rather than lying on it. Now, I'm no prude but I found the entire experience rather unnerving and by the time he'd finished I was beetroot in colour, sweating precociously and could barely look him in the eye!
Fast forward 3 months...by this time I was huge, just about ready to pop. As an advocate of drug free/home birthing I was a little concerned at a sudden stiffness in my neck and shoulders. Worried that it may lead to difficulties during labour, off to the doctor I waddled. I explained my predicament, the doctor looked me in the eye and said the dreaded two words I'd hoped never to hear again....'BREAST CHECK'
This time however, I was ready ...determined to be that confident, empowered earth mother I whipped up my T shirt, thrust up my bra and glared at him.
When I was pregnant with Alf (third child), my regular check up with the doctor, on this occasion, required a breast check. No problem there except that it was a very cold day and so the subsequent removal of at least 5 layers of wool, a pair of dungarees and a bra that had suddenly acquired a padlock and key left me rather red faced and huffing. Add to this the rather odd technique employed by the doctor of checking my breasts whilst I was sitting on the bed rather than lying on it. Now, I'm no prude but I found the entire experience rather unnerving and by the time he'd finished I was beetroot in colour, sweating precociously and could barely look him in the eye!
Fast forward 3 months...by this time I was huge, just about ready to pop. As an advocate of drug free/home birthing I was a little concerned at a sudden stiffness in my neck and shoulders. Worried that it may lead to difficulties during labour, off to the doctor I waddled. I explained my predicament, the doctor looked me in the eye and said the dreaded two words I'd hoped never to hear again....'BREAST CHECK'
This time however, I was ready ...determined to be that confident, empowered earth mother I whipped up my T shirt, thrust up my bra and glared at him.
"What on earth are you doing"
"You said breast check"
"No madam, I said best check"
Oh Lord, the shame....I'm squirming!!!
Tuesday
hoo...blinkin...rah!
Happy 1st day of Spring... I was starting to think it'd never get here!
courtesy of flickr
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