erehwon

The Year of the Handmade Whatsit

2011-01-23T18:41:00.006+13:00

I foolishly decided to take part in a Facebook thing where each person makes 5 things by hand and sends them to people (usually, the people who comment on the post). I then decided - even more foolishly - that I'm going to nudge that concept a bit more by making a thing each month, sending it to someone I know, then documenting it here.

I can't guarantee it'll be awesome or supremely original or Art, but it will be great fun having a new mini-project each month, and rather freeing to give that stuff away. Hopefully I'll learn a few new skills and stretch my languishing creative muscles. So far I have 4 people lined up to give stuff to, and then I'll decide as I go from there. If you're super, super keen to have a Thing made by me, let me know and I'll ink you in. You'll also need to email me with your addy so I can send it to you.

If you've been reading my blog for a while you'll know why this is foolish. I'm exceptionally skilled at starting something and then petering out halfway through; this blog is a perfect example. Even posting this here is the equivalent of giving this year's fledgling project the kiss of death. On the other hand, I... cannot think of a defense. Um.

In the meantime, here's a bubblegum tree and a small, disappointed dog:

2010: Rehash, the Return of the Memory

2011-01-23T17:39:00.003+13:00

It's been a long time since I did this, so here goes:

1. What did you do in 2010 that you'd never done before?
Lots. I...

went to Napier and Hastings
did the whole wine tasting thing (sooo much fun!)
got kicked out of a flat
accidentally became vegetarian for about a month
did kickboxing as a keep-fit thing (OK, technically I started in 2009, but I didn't do one of these lists then)
smoked a cigarillo, and liked it muchly
got me a car
discovered that laptops are kinda cool
was a support crew member for a multisporter
went to a (student) fashion show
went to a Pecha Kucha night
lived through some rather large earthquakes
shovelled a lot of mud that went by the name of liquidation
became a regular at a coffee shop. They knew my name and my 'usual' and everything
discovered *the* perfect cove, somewhere in the North Island
got mobbed by pukekos
went to a toga party
went to a blogger meet up
went to a tweetup
played an RPG (D&D version 4.0 for those who require deets)
learned about Gypsies/Romani
other

2. Did you keep your new year's resolutions, and will you make more for the next year?
Honestly, I can never remember the resolutions I make. I suspect I didn't keep the ones I made, whatever they were. I didn't make a resolution to be happier with my spiritual confusion whatsit, and yet I am. So maybe the trick is *not* to resolve to do something, and then it'll happen? Hmm... I may come up with little goals as I go along, ways to get more out of life, that sort of thing.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
Yes! Amy had wee Louis. It is kind of frightening and cool that people my age are expelling tiny humans from their person.

4. Did anyone close to you die?
No, fortunately.

5. What countries did you visit?
Australia. It's been yonks since I'd been there last and I really loved Melbourne.

6. What would you like to have in 2011 that you lacked in 2010?
An aim in life, or purposey whatsit. More travelling. Learning new things and sticking with them. A relationship that lasts a good while.

7. What dates from 2010 will remain etched in your memory, and why?

Late August, when I suddenly had to find a new flat.
September 4, because of the earthquake.
September 13, saying goodbye to one fantastic person and hello to another.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Still being here. Discovering things about myself I was unaware of before, perhaps. I can think of lots of little achievements, but no ginormous ones. Maybe the sum of the little ones?

9. What was your biggest failure of the year?

Not sticking up for myself or calling people on their bullsh-t when I needed to.
Being allergic to cats turned out to be a bit of an epic fail, too.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
The flu and some stomach bugs, but nothing abnormal.

11. What was the best thing you bought?
Probably my car, even though I still feel a bit guilty when I use it. I also got some dresses I dig a lot.

12. Whose behaviour merited celebration?
Friends who were there when I really needed it. Oooh, and the high school and uni students who did heaps of post-quake manual labour to help get the city back to normal. That was pretty fantastic.

13. Whose behaviour made you appalled and depressed?
Someone who I can't really mention online. And again myself, in new and interesting ways this time.

14. Where did most of your money go?
Rent, food, books, drink, petrol, travel, that kind of thing.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

Lots of stuff! Some very big things, like my holiday oop norf, and my new place (eventually). Some very small things like having a few dancing lessons, smoking a quiet cigar in the sun while reading, driving for the first time in years, a new album coming out, Glee-watching nights with friends, and the prospect of tasting earthquake beer. I also got very excited about a beer festival that I didn't end up going to, and a Sufjan Stevens concert that I can't go to.

16. What song will always remind of you of 2010?
The new Arcade Fire album, and the 500 Days of Summer album. One reminds me of horrible times; one of total freedom and happiness. They sum up the halves of my year.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
a) happier or sadder?
I'm not sure, probably about the same.

b) fatter or thinner?
Fatter by quite a lot, unfortunately.

c) richer or poorer?
Poorer, because I took a cut when I got my new job. On the other hand, I *have* a job.

18. What do you wish you'd done more of?
Saying "I want to do x" and then doing it, even if it felt intimidating or I didn't have anyone to do it with. Following through with things, generally. Taking care of myself, and sticking up for myself. Explored stuff.

19. What do you wish you'd done less of?
Stressed over things I couldn't control.

20. How did you spend Christmas?
Had a sleepover and yummy champagne breakfast with Ray and then popped round to the family's for lunch. Marvellously laid back and twas lovely seeing everyone :)

21. Did you fall in love in 2010?
Well, that depends entirely on what you mean by 'in love'. I shall pick an arbitrary definition and say in a way I did, very much.

22. What was your favourite TV programme?
The Wire, True Blood, QI, Mock the Week, Glee. I got introduced to lots of great stuff this year :)

23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?
Yes, one or two. Am working on reducing it to a less toxic level.

24. What was the best book you read?
Toby and the Tree. It's a kid's book (or YA) and part of a two- or three-book series. It's a rollicking fun adventure story that reminded me of my own childhood and how involving books can be. Plus, it had a hand-drawn map in the cover and was printed in a luverly font using sustainable inks and recycled paper. Oooh, and also A New Christianity for a A New World blew my mind in marvelous ways, too, just when I was looking for something in that direction.

25. What was your greatest musical discovery?
Either Saul Williams or the Bees. One's rap/spoken word and one's faux-60s pop, so I'm not sure what that says about me.

26. What did you want and get?
A job I can sink my teeth into, a laptop, a car, excitement, and a more stable living situation (eventually).

27. What did you want and not get?
Nicely tied-up loose ends, a long-term partner, an infinitely better wardrobe, the discipline to keep my room/life tidy and exercise often.

28. What was your favourite film of this year?
I'm cheating a bit cos I watched one of them over the New Year break, but it's a tie between Inception and How to Train Your Dragon. I thoroughly enjoyed The Town, too.

29. What did you do on your birthday and how old did you turn?
I turned 26, went into work and got sent home cos I had the flu. That's two years in a row. From now on, I intend to take the day off to pre-empt any illness :D

30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
Figuring out what to do and doing it, rather than messing around. I felt like I was scattered, super directionless and meh in 2010; the whole year seemed imbued with a feeling of powerlessness.

31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2010?
A verrrrry little bit classier, cos I discovered dresses. My collection of ballet flats and silly earrings grew, too. My workmates call me the 'crazy earring and bright shoe' girl now.

32. What kept you sane?
Several completely awesome friends. At certain points of the year, the internet, TV shows, large amounts of junk food, the odd sneaky smoke and alcohol. Well, we're being honest, right?

33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
This year? Uf... no one. Oh wait, does the main guy from The Wire count as a celebrity? He's pretty.

34. What political issue stirred you the most?
Apart from Gerry effing Brownlee being granted emergency powers? The whole mining national parks thing, and the way our mayor used the earthquake as his personal TV show. Not impressed.

35. Who did you miss?
Matt W, Claire, Chris.

36. Who was the best new person you met?
I've met heaps of grand people this year partly because I switched jobs and flats. It's honestly tricky to say who'd be the best. I'm going to add mini-categories so I can have lots.

Work: Laura
Home: Jody/Jenny/Kata (well, we all met at the same time... it counts, it counts!)
Unexpected: Chris
Unexpected last minute entry: Iain

37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2010.
Being nice and backing down isn't necessarily a good thing. Sometimes it's appropriate to rage.

38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.
In my dream I was almost there / then you pulled me aside and said we're going nowhere (Modern Man, Arcade Fire.) Actually, that whole song. And the album it rode in on.

Oooh, or: Oh life don't leave me here / what can be done with a world of care / I hope it falls into the sea (Oh Life, Avalanche City).

I am still alive!

2010-12-19T18:13:00.003+13:00

But intensely lazy, hence the complete lack of posts for... uh, six months. Some things that have happened in the interim:

I got made redundant.
I went on holiday to Napier/Hastings/Havelock North with a close mate and a small, alcoholic philandering bear. We had an absolute blast. There may be forthcoming photos.
I found a new job. I have a fancy, fancy job title and appear to be making up my job as I go. Fun times!
I had some... issues with my flat, and was forced to find a new place to live in a very short time frame.
I had a few dancing lessons and discovered I'm not completely unco.
I joined a bookgroup (or maybe I'd done that earlier? My memory is pretty bad).
I made an attempt at NaNoWriMo this year, and conked out after one and a half weeks. Ah, but next year, my precious, you will be mine!

Location, location, location

2010-06-16T23:13:00.003+12:00

Sometimes context-appropriate advertising goes horribly, horribly wrong.

Note: You may want to click on the image for a higher resolution. The initial sentence explains the story much better than the headline (ahhh, journalism).

Reasons I will miss my job

2010-06-16T22:48:00.004+12:00

Below are three of them.

To provide a little context, me and the other two writers peer review each other's work. In the last month, I've learnt to use a new type of technology/documentation in the middle of a fairly important project. It's not because I'm a kick-arse maverick writer who rolls that way, but more because that was the most appropriate type of doc for the user and I just hadn't had a chance to learnt it yet. Lying to the project manager was easy, actually figuring out the thing was a little tricker. Anxious times...

I got my workmate to review the first doc before I sent it off to the clients, to make doubly sure I hadn't done something very stupid. This is some of the feedback I got:

"Slower! Because the user is not controlling the pace of the slideshow, it needs to creep along ohhhhh soooooo sloooooooooooowly. Make it as slow as you can bear to watch without reaching for a razor and a warm bath, and then slow it down some more... say, around about the speed of a 65-year-old on their 12^th attempt at using trademe."
"Currently, [a specific button] isn't working. Change the action to [another action]. Unless this is like the Close Door button in lifts, which does nothing except give the user a warm feeling of control and mastery over their own destiny."
"Not sure if the note is really a note. More of a tip. Or, actually, the entire point of a prep sheet… anyway, a boring old orange caption will not cut it, this needs to be marked Important! In lights! With dancing bears! Ethically obtained bears of course. Think midnight forest feasts in Prince Caspian, with bears happily dancing round campfires, not scummy Russian circuses torturing poor furry animals. (This was immediately followed by "A propos of nothing, I think I should lay off the coffee.")

It was great fun being part of the team and having other writers to learn from/brainstorm with/go out on the piss with. (Turns out tech writers have a rep. As in, our whole unit knows the best way to bribe us is with alcohol. Despite that, the few times I've been bribed to do jobs, jaffas and coffee have featured heavily - clearly I have much to learn.) I'm sure being a lone wolf will have its moments, but none quite like these. Two days to go!

The end of all things

2010-06-16T22:29:00.002+12:00

This is the end of all things

my job, my lifestyle, a bunch of friends

your town, your singledom, the honeymoon

we meet after our natural hiatus

a friendship that just goes

whenever we meet

and you shout, as is your custom

and we talk frankly and reminisce, as is our habit

and i swear to pay next time, as is my feminist leanings

and the coffee we agreed to is a pint, as is our working class heritage

(or was that our parents? mmm, anyway, drink!)

it turns out

i can dance in the kitchen like a crab, and not care

and your flatmate (our mutual acquaintance) has gout

he's a week older than me

we both agree, he has potential

poor bastard

we know what we mean

'snot the end of the world, right?

Sometime's karma's just

you know I love how we grew up fundy and yet that phrase's just there and natural

mmmm,

'nother round?

and you get my anxiety more than my workmates

because you've known me so long

and i get how you talk to that kid who works for you

cos i know what a fuck of a place that is to be

we joke about shacking up to shock

and know we're the only people we can have that joke with

and all the implicit understandings that go with it

it's been a long time, so

'nother round?

cider was a goooood choice

how bout

i text first next time?

Reasonably priced wife, anyone?

2010-04-26T18:13:00.008+12:00

I've mentioned our work's buy/sell/exchange site before, but last week someone decided to get a bit creative. Ladies and gentlefuns, how to sell your wife in three easy steps:

1. Use ambiguous phrasing to explain why you're selling her.

2. Wait for your colleagues to mock you.

3. Cover your tracks by pretending you were trying to sell a microwave the whole time.

Jobs and scripts

2010-04-22T21:18:00.005+12:00

There are Developments Afoot at work, so most of us are dusting off our CVs and trying to remember how the whole job application thing goes, just in case. The general feeling is stress and uncertainty, because most of us have a fair bit of work to do at the moment as well. Not too fun.

So tonight I grudgingly hunted high and low to find a booklet I've always found handy for these sorts of things, and when I opened it, I discovered a page of refill I'd scribbled on. When I looked closer, it appeared to be a conversation between me and a sleeping pill. At least one of the characters was speaking lolcatz. I was both perplexed and amused, (I'm pretty sure it's from 3 years ago, which was not exactly a happy time), so I thought I'd share/inflict it on some other people.

BODY: I need sleep! I cannot function!

PILLS: (sidles up and wiggles eyebrows suggestively)

BODY: Oh hai! Will you help me sleep?

PILLS: (Shiftily looks sideways) Sure.

BODY: (Frowns) You look awfully familiar, are you those pills I used before? I did not like those pills.

PILLS: Ye- no, not at allz. We are entirely new and different pills. You WANT us.

BODY: OK.

Next morning:

BODY: Wow! I slept! You must be magical pills!

PILLS: Yeeeup, sure. That's exactly what we are (coughs surreptitiously)

BODY: See you again tonight! It's on!

PILLS: (whispers) Sucker.

The morning after:

BODY: Oh noes! I has exhaustion and headache! Slurr....ing worfs. Shakes. So. Cold! I zombie. Pills, wtf?

PILLS: (maniacal laughter) Oh did we not tell you? We are from the old and evil Medicini crime family. We always make you pay!

Yes, I'm not sure what I was on (probably stress and sleeping pills), but it gives you an idea of what my mind looked like then. It's kinda fun and cracked out.

I'm back!

2010-03-28T09:41:00.002+13:00

Despite meaning to post once a week, things got busy and I didn't have time, and then after a wee while I got out of the habit. To catch you up, since the last post I've:

had a seriously good conversation with my pastors about my struggles with faith/Christianity
turned 26
had the flu (and was home sick on my birthday)
gone to a lecture about gypsies (post to follow)
gone to the wedding of one of my oldest friends
celebrated St Patrick's day with a spur of the moment pub crawl with my flatmate
stopped teaching sunday school
had high tea for the first time.

And of course I've gone to work, hung out with mates, gone for walks and done the usual stuff. How have you all been?

We who are about to drink, salute you!

2010-02-23T22:01:00.004+13:00

Last Thursday I made my foray back into the world of undergrad partying (because I was *so* wild when I was younger) and went to my first toga party. It wasn't as raging as I had been lead to believe, but large quantities of Double Brown and first year girls were involved, so there was potential. Seriously, I do not miss those days.

The party was an absolute blast: there's something uniting about a bunch of people standing around drinking beer together whilst dressed in silly costumes. Well, it seems to work for the military, anyway...

Everyone came up with pretty good ideas for togas:

the birthday boy had one with a pattern of balloons on it (which he rocked because... well, it was his party).
the birthday boy's flatmate had an army camouflage toga, complete with dog tags.
my brother had clearly discovered which colour the royals used to wear: purple.
the first year girls wore matching ones in different colours: polka dotted pink, yellow and green, with matching ballet shoes and sunglasses. Bless.

Sadly, I was the only one who carried on the honourable tradition of wearing a sheet. (I'm not a purist, just lazy and forgetful.) It turns out that there's a really good reason no one uses sheets for togas anymore: they're a pain to sort out. Even though they're remarkably comfy once you've got the safety pins sorted, you still look like you're wearing a sheet. Don't do it, kids. It's just not worth it. In future, I'm buying a 5.5 metre long stretch of fabric and using these instructions to look togarific.

All up, it was a grand night. I had great conversations with some randoms, caught up with a few people I hadn't seen in forever, and discovered that the way to make sure you don't lose your ID when you're drunk is to get your sober mates to sellotape it to your arms. Good times.

Race!

2010-02-15T22:08:00.002+13:00

[Said in a Received Pronunciation accent. If you've heard of The Goons, then think of Wallace Greenslade doing the intro]:

This is not the BBC. We interrupt our usual programming to bring you a newsflash:

The Coast to Coast! Well, not the whole thing. It was actually sponsored by Speights, purveyors of horrible-tasting beer. A can of it was given to the competitors as they crossed the line, as a way of saying "Hey, well done! You just spent a year of your life training, a day or two slogging hard out in driving rain: have a sub-par beer!" Personally, if I had just run, biked and kayaked from one side of the island to the other, I'd want to be drinking something a bit more slathered with congratulations than the contents of the local river and some colouring. Just sayin'

Anyway, point being, my brother did The Longest Day (which is the Official Name of the one-day event, and which is done by individuals. Crazy, hyperbolically fit, batsh-t insane individuals). Our family decided to go down to the finish line at Sumner and wait for him to come in. 4 hours and many inaccurate (but highly chipper) texts from the crew later, he made it. And dammit, he even had a grin for the camera. (Steve Gurney welcomes everyone when they cross the line, and they get one photo with him, and one with the crazy old guy who started the Coast to Coast. Just to prove that they, too, have been inflicted the Crazy virus and are filled with germs of Insanity.)

It took him 13 hours and 41 minutes. To run/bike/kayak from one side of the country to another. That is some serious speed. I am ridiculously proud of him, and keep telling people about it excitedly. It's quite a strange feeling to have about a sibling - I feel like you're meant to hate them, and stay locked in the teenage years of mutual avoidance and dislike.

I'm also highly proud of the fact that even though he was exhausted, some vestiges of sanity remained. How do I know that? When his flatmate/friend who was crewing for him asked how the beer was, he shrugged and said, "It's cold, I can barely taste it. I'm really thirsty". He rocks somethin' serious.

Muesli bars, meetings and graffiti

2010-02-01T17:54:00.012+13:00

Because I'm tired and can't be bothered coming up with creative titles, I'm going to pretend I'm a technical writer and use titles that make this post blatantly easy to navigate. Civilisation is such fun...

Note: There are a lot of photos in this post, and some are quite large so you can see details. Depending on your internets, this post may take a while to load.

Muesli bars

These actually worked out really well, even though it took forever to shape them into muesli-bar forms. They were incredibly crumbly and look about as tasty as - well, I'm sure you can come up with a few descriptions - but they were incredibly tasty. I'd never considered using dates as a base for a snack food before, but they're filling and yummy, and the texture is slightly reminiscent of chocolate. Next time I'm going to try soaking the dates first, or adding some different ingredients.

Meetings

Last Friday night I went to a blogger's meet-up, and had a grand time (and delicious Riesling) with Andrea, Ally, Charlie, Hannah, Holly, and Lauren. When I got home I felt inspired to blog a bit more often, and then my flatmate said "But you only post every six months! How did you count as a blogger?" I'm going to go out on a limb here and say it's because I post every six months (but really because Andrea invited me. Thanks, Andrea!). Anyhoodles, there will be attempts to blog more regularly, even if the posts themselves are much shorter.

Graffiti

I'm a big fan of graffiti as an art form, and every now and then I come across some that makes me wish I had wicked mad skillzzzzz with spraypaint cans. Sometimes it's just taggers fooling around, sometimes it's Project Legit stuff. I kept seeing these while going for coffee and decided that one day when I wasn't at work, I'd grab my camera and take photos. So on Saturday I got out my one and only vintage dress, scrabbled around for my camera and bussed off into the sun.

This one is next to the Bus Xchange. I'm pretty sure it was commissioned by one of the streetwear shops nearby.

Near Cashel Mall, and probably done by the same person as...

Unfortunately the van was a pretty permanent fixture. Is it just me, or does the cartoon figure look a little like Calvin and Hobbes?

This one was done on paper with vivid and had a note next to it...

...Which had a curious message:

Experimental home made muesli bars

2010-01-25T22:19:00.004+13:00

I know a few people who rave about American muesli bars called Larabars. In between the wistful sighs and blatant cravings, you'll hear three reasons for loving them:

they taste like magical crack-smothered fairies oozing love hearts and rainbows of deliciousness.
they're diary free, soy free, kosher, and gluten free (in all probability they can wash your dishes, do your taxes, and perform citizen's arrests).
there's only 6 ingredients in each bar.

Unfortunately they're horribly expensive and tricky to get over here, so people try and make their own versions instead. This is where The Third Reason of Love comes in; because there are so few ingredients, all you need to do is fiddle around with quantities and combos and you've virtually stolen the patent.

Since I'm gently wandering along the border of Health Kickdom, I figured I would try and make some of these faux-bars as a replacement for chocolate bars when Three Thirty-itis strikes. There are a bunch of recipes around, but I ended up using this one. They're pretty easy to make, have a go!

A few notes:

Fresh dates are hard to find in New Zealand. Instead, get whole dried dates from the supermarket and soak them for a few hours first. I didn't soak mine and ended up with really crumbly bars.
Half an ounce is approximately 12.5 grams.

I'll let you know how mine turn out (and whether the gentle wander turns into a midnight dash).

Gerry Brownlee

2009-12-19T03:06:00.005+13:00

Bastard.

Well, um.

This evening has been

a return to the old days or

something new, I don't know

but

I felt alive.

And for the first time in a while I felt my mind spark and flow

and I was enthusiastic the way my dad gets talking about planes

almost bright or in an element i don't know

the conversations not so technological

converged with a space my mind inhabits gleefully

but it has been such a long time since I've studied those things

I halted; embarrassed.

I saw a new girl emerge, playful fun outgoing

bright and forthright, bishop-smoked,

absorbed in the flow and present

i like her

but regret

that she is born in a bottle and dies in a drain

i wish that extroverted side

could be evoked ordinarily

the dullness of inattentive observation could be slept out

but

my life is stitched with chemicals

and as i saw her emerge i felt my neurons

falter

speech organs fail as i stumbleslur

with things and stuff

and i knew that i don't need to fear Alzheimer's

it's here already

in a sense

there's always a trade-off

the things you say

spark vivid images

a movie scene, book cover, artist, lecture

but i know i can't make the jump for you

it only makes sense in my weird little head

as soon as the connections fire they die

synapses shooting aimlessly in the dark

and i am suddenly furious at my limitations

i am warmed by our conversations

and for the first time in these many-frazzled months

i see you as you are

the curls of coloured smokesteam helixing above your heads

diamondizing facets

happiness, yes, ya'll

in my frankled way i am sincere;

and the hug is warm like the laptop

and the walk is cool like comfort

walden may sing of the morning

but i am a creature who delights in the dusk-gloaming-night-dawn

the dark is so safe

i missed full colour for many years;

find beauty in this darkened sepia

Then near our door, "A hedgehog, look."

And I stand for a while, goggling

Such a novelty to see

One that isn't water bottle-flat.

Is it zen or just confusing?

2009-12-13T21:31:00.002+13:00

A tweet from a relative:

"If your friend is digging a big hole, whisper. A bird can sing with a broken wing, but you cannot pluck feathers from a frog. Then wink."

This is either incredibly awesome, or my relative is losing their marbles a little. Or perhaps both. What say you, non-existent readers? (Nearly wrote "What say you, madam foreperson of the jury". I have been watching quite a lot of Boston Legal. It is *so* good).

Also, it is nearly Christmas! Now that Nano and other various stressful (yet fun), things are over, *squee*! I must admit I am looking forward to time off, sleeping in, having loooong baths, reading lots of books and hanging out with mates. Also, summer and drinking.

That is all.

Books and links and things

2009-11-20T18:22:00.002+13:00

Wotcher! I thought that I would update this occasionally, during Nanowrimo, but no. As soon as I decide, "Hmmm, my social life has been relatively quiet of late, spending an entire month chained to my compy will be easy to do (but mostly super fun)," my social life goes "...or not. Oh look: a hundred and one things to keep you busy to the point of insanity! bwa ha ha ha ha!" It is evil like that.

So, I'm sorry, I have neglected you and there are virtual spider webs here and such.

Also, I totally lied about the whole Society of Friends post. It'll turn up sometime, cos I had a blast (as much as you can whilst sitting silently in a room of people for an hour and then chatting about cloud computing, protesting, and the concept of god), but perhaps in December when things are decidedly less mental.

The nanowrimo has both been a massive drag - oh my god, I have to write again today? *cue whining* - and a lot of fun. I've developed new forms of procrastination, and for my characters too. I'll think, how can I fill in some words? And then, Ah! A 3000-word shaggy dog joke. Or a dream sequence where my main character takes off in a singing space ship. Or my main character is bed-ridden and takes up origami, which has exquisitely detailed instructions, training manual-styles.

And it is making my non-work writing way harder to follow, but! To keep you amused whilst I'm busy, some things I've come across:

The RAF Escaping Society. Who knew?
Origami. I don't know why, but I've recently come across it, and it's great fun and a good way to de-stress. I'm quite excited by the fact I can actually make something; I'm a bit of a two-thumbs person. I'm also impressed with the wordless diagrams; they're simple, accurate, and usable.
David Bird, mewithoutyou, The Kinks - music I've been listening to. Look 'em up, they're fun.
Liquid chalk/whiteboard markers. I've been using these to doodle and write or put quotes on my windows. A lot of fun to use.
icons. ZOMG those little bastards are so exciting/tricky/clever. A huge amount of work goes into them, especially if they're digital and can only be, say 6 pixels wide and high. For a list of travel icons, go to dafont.com.

P.S. I have photos of the vintage dress I wore to last weekend's wedding (last weekend? Boy that week went fast/feels like a million years ago). Will post them later.

Public shame is a form of motivation, right?

2009-10-27T22:30:00.002+13:00

If teachers used it with joyful abandon every school year, it must be effective. Surely? Or maybe they just enjoyed being sadistic... anyway! Today's announcement:

I am doing NaNoWriMo.

Not sure who still reads this, but I am announcing this to my virtual and real friends through a variety of mediums so that I won't be able to get out of it. By which I mean, if I 'forget' to do it, or give up after 2 days, feel free to hassle me.

And I totally meant to do a post telling you about my visit to the Quakers/Society of Friends, but forgot. That'll be here later this week, but it probably won't be as long as the Russian Orthodox post.

Today's mission

2009-10-18T10:02:00.002+13:00

... is to have an Introvert's Adventure. Have been feeling rather off-kilter the last wee while, and doing the whole "I am an extrovert! Really! I can spend lots of time around people and not get arrgh glug" thing. So this morning, instead of going to church, I shall take time out to disappear from the world and recharge. I'm going to do some (or, if I can, all) of the following:

Go for a longish walk, preferably somewhere green.
Find a good book at a library and soak my head in it.
Do a few blog posts, write a journal entry, or do some form of creative writing.
Think. Contemplate. Live in my head without sabotaging myself. Drain any negative thoughts that shouldn't be there.
Listen to music I adore.
Draw, doodle, make origami, play... make something creative.
Take my time. Sit and just be. Enjoy the aloneness.

I'm kicking it off by listening to Thrice's Come All You Weary. See you in the world.

I'm graduating tomorrow

2009-09-17T17:25:00.003+12:00

... and super excited about it. Which is weird, because until I went to get the regalia at lunch time I was feeling a bit 'meh' about it, what with the post-holiday malaise and things. But I get to wear the CPIT scarf (which is a lot prettier and easier to wear than the Canterbury hood), and be part of the procession from the Arts Centre and the best part is I get the day off work. I was pretty lucky to get it, so I'm stoked.

So if you meet me or catch me online and notice that I'm acting like a smug bastard, that's why. It's amazing how different a set of clothes can make you feel. Maybe graduation regalia has magical threads stitched into it that bestow feelings of invincibility?

It almost makes up for all that insomnia and lecturers quitting and insane assignments of doom :)

Holiday reading

2009-08-28T18:55:00.003+12:00

So I'm going on holiday in a week, and need some light but absorbing book(s) to read. I'm taking Paradise Lost, but something else that's a little more relaxing and indulgent to balance it out would be cool. I'd be keen to try pretty well any genre, just as long as it doesn't require too much academic material. Any suggestions?

Face mask recipe

2009-08-28T18:40:00.002+12:00

I randomly watched some cooking/hippy/sustainability show last weekend and they had a recipe for a facemask made from fruit and things. The presenter kept referring to kiwifruit as 'kiwis', which led to some amusing sentences. Apparently, Kiwis come from a similar climate to the UK, can do really well if you put them in a south-facing area, and have to be mashed properly.

He got halfway through the recipe before I thought to write it down, so bear in mind it's a tad vague. Have a play around with the order that you mix the ingredients (like you would with most recipes) to get it to work right for you.

Fruity Facemask

Ingredients:

2 limes. You'll use their juice.
2 kiwifruit
1 papaya
1 smallish packet of gelatin

Method:

Crush and mash the kiwifruit.
Scoop out the flesh of the papaya and mash it. Put it in a separate bowl from the kiwifruit.
Double-boil the papaya on the stove, and stir in the gelatin. (I think... the presenter was a little unclear on this step). Not sure what temperature, but have a play.
Take the papaya mash off the element once it has been heated.
Gradually stir the lime juice into the papaya. Keep whisking the papaya so it doesn't set.
Mix the kiwifruit mash in with the papaya mash.
Let the mixture cool and set before you apply it.

Leave on for:

10 minutes - 1 hour. Always spot-test your skin first, in case of allergies.

Lasts for:

2 days. Keep refrigerated in a jar or other closed container.

Religious cynicism: a late night ponder

2009-08-09T01:22:00.006+12:00

So I've been thinking about cynicism and Christianity and the dovetail of losing one's faith and gaining critical thinking skills. I've watched people lose their faith, gain faith, become stronger or weaker in their faith, hop from one side of the fence to the other in indecision, and develop an alternative strain of faith.

Note: I'm fully aware that "faith" is an incredibly tricky word with lots of nuances; that it means different things to different people. Bear with me here and insert whatever meaning you give that word.

I've watched the way people have dealt with these situations; both their own situations and the they way they've dealt with other people in similar circumstances. I've seen people quietly trickle away from the church world, people storm out in a flame of anger (and in one case, it sounded more like the person used a case of grenades), and people hang around making venomous, bitter barbs at appropriate moments.

One of the things that all these scenarios have in common is that the people involved developed a certain level of cynicism and became critical about the church. It's a fairly natural stage: you were heavily involved in a sub-culture, and to move out of it you need to distance yourself and view it in a different light. Cynicism also seems to be a natural stage of the journey from fundy to liberal to whatever comes next.

But after a while, people tone the cynicism down and move on. Mostly they figure the Christian phase was a few years of their life, or their childhood, but it's over. Or if they stay within the church, they figure out a way to do so with the minimum level of cognitive dissonance possible. World-views can always be rebuilt, right?

I've noticed a correlation between the level of cynicism post-Christianity (or being more vocal about it) and the depth of sincerity that people had when they were still Christians. The more you believed it, the more heavily involved you were, the heavier the toll. It's harder to leave, harder to reconcile your life and choose a new way of thinking without coming across shreds of the older way that tear you up.

And I've noticed that I'm still as cynical as I was 5 years ago when things first started falling apart. I haven't been able to state without qualm "yeah I'm not a Christian" or "yeah I am", because I still don't know where I stand. That probably doesn't help. But as true as the mess of churchiness is, I'd kinda like to move on and create something or do something positive for a change. There's no point whinging endlessly about something if you're not going to do something to make it better.

But I've got no idea what I can do. Becoming more involved in church seems a little unwise, given my current situation. I know some of you have been here before. Suggestions?

Being sick and other revelations

2009-07-09T14:47:00.002+12:00

I can't remember what I used to write as blog posts, possibly pithy phrases about something starting with 'P' (how Pentecostal youth pastor of me), but probably not. I'm sick, so I thought I'd write a blog post and see if I can start a new habit of actually using my blog. This means I'll have to find things of worth to write about, as opposed to writing meaningless, indulgent poetry when I'm tipsy - drats! Real work! :P

So, where to start? I'm not sure, so I'm going to list things I've enjoyed or discovered or whatever in the last wee while.

Places to get a good hot chocolate or mocha:

The chocolate shop in Parnell (forgotten the name, sorry!).
The Chocolate Lounge at Riccarton Mall. Real chocolate with chilli, yum!
Toast, in Sol Square. Haven't tried their hot chocs, but the mochas are absolutely fantastic. They give you a glass of milk and coffee, and a shot glass full of chocolate bits on the side. The plate that accompanies the glasses is drizzled with white chocolate pieces and chocolate sprats. So. GOOD. You can get quite absorbed in the ritual of tipping or spooning the chocolate in, then stirring it, then tipping, then... yeah, I'm addicted.

Comedic gold I've been introduced to or discovered:

The Lonely Island
Flanders and Swann. Turns out the song my history high school teacher played to our 6th form class as an example of xenophobia was actually one of their parodies. She must have loved the expressions on our faces - we were horrified and offended and thought it was a sincere song! I wish I could find her and give her a hug for that alone (she was a brilliant teacher anyway, this just adds that little bit extra).
Surviving the World
Twilight. The writing is so bad it's actually good. I laughed in places I'm pretty sure were meant to be romantic or atmospheric or scary. Seriously, though: vampires that sparkle in the sun and gush sweet nothings like mindless fanboys? It deserves to be laughed at.
The Chaser's War: Public Service Announcement.
Scared Scriptless. I went for the first time ever about a month or so ago and absolutely loved it. Can't think why I never went before, but I'm definitely going back.
I'm sure there's more that I've forgotten, so here's a bullet point to commemorate them.

Well, there went my brief burst of energy. If you know of any other places that do great hot chocolates (or comedy, for that matter), feel free to comment. Oooh, and if you think there's anything I should write a post about, leave a comment. At the very least, it means my blog will be slightly less dormant (although I'm not sure that's a good thing).

A little distance; a little wine

2009-06-25T20:48:00.002+12:00

It's been 9 months

so I'm sure you'll understand that I'm nervous

about our meeting again

walking in, the first wine is free

gleeful recognitions; sporadic catch-ups

brownian motions from squab to table to couch to standing cluster

suddenly i remember your name

and how to talk shop

there is a moment

and we count:

half ex, half current

yet we're all here for this

at an evening's notice diverse strands

become a black humoured-crew

Council psych unit ITO tertiary training management:

we're all a hell of a lot better off

doing what we wanted

being paid for our skills

and everywhere the sense of festivity

camaraderie

now the swearing, now the stories, now the honesty

comes out

away from Them,

the hench-like controls

and petty snipes

with vaguely veiled mass emails

we are now gloriously rejoicing; now sympathetic support group

once we nodded or greeted in the halls

huddled, if we could, for spare moments of sanity

now we hug and kiss hello

real affection

assurances your new life is better

and the promise of email exchanges

you can't circle the drain so close

when

fraternity holds you together

so I leave, wine hugs promises later

buoyed up and sated

remembering the comfy smell of smokes

saunter home in a fast food haze and realise

I've left a kind of love, but

I've gained a kind of confidence

on the curb i say "thank you!" three times to

no one in particular

in my drunkenness I think

I can do this life thing

and the person I've become is ok

almost valuable, in a way

I love how these reunions

force us to remember

fuck it's good to be alive

A little bit of M & B

2009-06-08T17:39:00.003+12:00

Recently I've started going to a writer's group, and our last assignment was to write 500 words of Mills and Boon. Ever the geek, I got an M&B out of the library for research: I was curious to see if I could figure out the conventions and play it straight when I wrote it. (Yeah I know that sounds like the worst excuse ever.)

Turns out it's practically impossible to read through an entire book without vomiting, rolling your eyes or shouting "What? But that's impossible! How did the Greek billionaire sheik get from Brunei to England in 2 hours?" Truly a special genre. Anyway, without further ado:

The Island Chief's Innocent Virgin

Months later, as she caught the tube to the office, it was hard to believe she’d ever been to the lush, balmy, island paradise of Rarotonga. The cold, rainy city seemed to close in around her like a cage, making a mockery of her memories of the tropical sun, the golden sand and the magical, passionate time she’d spent with Tane. Suzanna Sullivan sighed as she looked around her at the bored, bland faces of the other commuters. They seemed pale and lifeless in comparison to Tane’s tanned, muscular body; his raw, masculine energy and his exotic tattoos.

But the holiday was over now, and the realisation that she would never see him again made her feel as if she had been struck a physical blow. What hope did she, a mere personal assistant for Goliath & Sons Law, have of being with Tane Te Hurunui, the next in line to the chief of Rarotonga?

As the train pulled to a stop and she walked through the station, she resolved to plunge into her job with as much skill and enthusiasm as Tane had plunged into her during their steamy encounters. She turned her coat collar up against the wind and stopped in at her bosses’ favourite cafe, remembering to order their flat whites and short blacks just the way they liked them. After all, she smiled to herself, she may be heartbroken but she was still a professional. And hadn’t her friend Sophie in Accounts told her they were thinking of promoting her after her hard work on the Fabrouzi case?

As she switched on the computer and checked her phone messages, she found herself irresistibly drawn to the doorway. “Tane!” She exclaimed, jumping up with surprise, “What are you doing here?” It was all she could do not to run to him and wrap her arms around him. The scent of him was unbearably tantalising; coconut oil and warm skin.

“My father died a week ago, and Goliath & Sons are our lawyers. After the funeral I came here as soon as I could to organise the succession,” he said, his deep, husky voice breaking with sorrow. “Since you worked here, I hoped to see you again.” As she looked into his warm, brown eyes, Suzanne noticed herself melting and blushed furiously.

Stunned, she stammered “Tane, I’m so sorry,” as her boss arrived. Determined not to lose her head, she explained Tane’s presence, her hands shaking with hidden emotion as she handed her boss his coffee.

“Thank you Suzanne”, he replied solemnly. “Mr Te Hurunui, I offer you and your country my sincerest apologies on behalf of the firm. Your father was a great man.”

The meeting seemed to last forever, and Suzanne could barely pay attention to her work, knowing such untamed greatness was in the next room. At last he appeared, and Don directed Tane to discuss some administrative issues with Suzanne, leaving them alone. Their eyes met, and without a word he reached for her and pulled her close to him. She kissed him tenderly at first, and then hungrily on the lips, his hands massaging her and unbuttoning her blouse as she directed them to an empty office across the hall. Suddenly she felt a torrent of passion and the floodgates opened...

Edit: Forgot to mention! One of the other writing group members did a spectacular parody. It involves Somali pirates and chainsaw bayonets.

I have a Mac Mini

2009-06-06T17:52:00.003+12:00

It's pretty exciting. I am using Safari, which makes every familiar website look a little odd (Facebook looks an awful lot better), and iTunes, which is fantastic because I haven't listened to my music for about a month now and I'm just realising how much I've missed it.

This week I have also managed to acquire:

my bike! It is all fixed and lovely. I've really missed being able to bike to work, weird as that sounds. The Church Corner guys did a great job (shameless plug).
a functioning heater that makes my room bearable (or warm if I'm being indulgent).
a soft-toy of the Cookie Time monster/mascot. It is red and sparkly and AWESOME. I'm a bit of a soft-toy fan, and I've wanted one of these since I was about 4, because they're spectacularly weird and cute. When I was a kid they didn't make a soft-toy of the mascot: childhood-me was extremely disappointed. This week someone at work was selling it for peanuts. Woop!
a yak scarf. By which I mean a scarf made from yak wool and lamb's wool, rather than a scarf that is for a yak. It's reddy-yellowy yum and incredibly soft and made by exiled Tibetans living in Nepal and surprisingly affordable (and that's about as many "ands" as I should ever use in one continuous sentence).
a pendant made from an old-school wooden Scrabble tile.

Pictures will be forthcoming once I've found a spare USB port on my compy (I suspect it will require a USB hub).

Almost Queen's birthday

2009-05-30T01:28:00.003+12:00

Whiskey:
There's at least one cute guy who
talks a little dirty
but recalls enough literature and history to make me
think

and as he refills my cup
I become tipsy enough to realise when I get home that
I've left an earring behind
I took it out when they noticed it was unusual
and wanted to examine how many volts or watts it was
the red one, so must be five?
No, one?
Huh, that's unusual

but just sober enough
to talk beer on the way home
emerson's and such
he's a bookbinder fan
I'm more of a pilsner girl
but
i explain about the twisted hop anyway
...just in case

damn
prolly hitched and also
not from here
a little sporadic with the attention
in a whiskey way we got on
(laaaaadies)

but for all that,
even if we didn't?

was a damn good night
(thanks all.)

And happy

I been hibernating

2009-05-28T18:01:00.003+12:00

Cos I haven't had much of interest to say and my compy is in my cold, cold room. I realise I am practically the only person alive who still owns a desktop, (and thus am chained to the chilly regions of an unheated room when the warm, sunny climes of Heat Pump in Lounge call seductively), but someone's got to put the "ooooo" (imagine someone shaking their head) in "retro".

It's been such a long time that I posted anything wordy on here that I think I might have actually forgotten how to write. What does one put on a blog these days, anyway? Suggestions for posts are welcome.

I might take this time and space to relate a story of stupidity. I might even give it a moral, just for the edification (yup that's a real word) of all you crazy kids out there. It involves bikes and slippery grass.

The other day I was biking to work and running slightly late. I went through Hagley park, (the sporty bit, not the bit most people bike through), since it's a short cut. Just as I got to the park, I noticed an old Chinese couple biking in front of me. This couple are regulars, in a way: I see them at least a few days during the week, and sometimes we nod or smile at each other. The notable things about this couple are:

1. they bike appallingly slowly. When I say slow, I mean I've seen walkers pass them. Not power walkers, just "out for a bit of a leg-stretch" walkers. Most of the time cyclists pass them, and I do too. They're the only recreational cyclists around at that time of the morning, and the rest of us are rushing to work. I think they enjoy their leisurely mornings, and why not?

2. they take up the entire path because they always ride double-file. A note that may come in handy later on: they never pull over to let people pass. Ever.

So there I was: drizzly morning, fast bike, human roadblocks, ticking watch. I did what any psyched-with-stress cyclist would do: I raced off the path and onto the grass to go around them and overtake them. Except that I didn't. The particular part of the grass I had chosen on this particular day had a slight solid edge to it. Which I didn't see until my front wheel hit it. O. Shi-

I sighed, flew over my handlebars, and went a good few metres before I thwacked into the ground on top of my bike and slid a metre or two more. (It had been raining a week solid prior to this, so there was more sliding and squelching than usual). I have a particular knack for losing consciousness whenever I fly and collide with things, so I was out for a bit. When I got up, I was sodden and sore.

The Chinese couple asked if I was OK and kindly pointed out that my chain was off. I spent the next five minutes angrily getting my numb fingers to shove the chain back on, to the background noise of the Chinese couple's advice.
"Oooh, slow! You bike too fast. Next time, slower!"
"Thanks", I mumbled, and added the lamest explanation ever: "I'm late for work". They clearly thought I was a bit weird. I mean, biking faster than a walker? Madness!
"If I biked as slow as you I'd be a corpse by the time I got anywhere", I thought. I was kind of pissed off. But at least they were nice.

It wasn't til I got back on my bike and shakily pedalled off that I realised my gears didn't work and neither did my breaks: they were full of mud and grass. My back wheel was locked up and it took nearly twice as long to get to work.

In the end, I was late to work and a bit grumpy. Fortunately I only had a few minor scrapes, although my neck and shoulders have been bloody sore ever since. One of my breaks is now functioning (hurrah!), so even though I can only go at one speed, I can also stop. This a Very Good Thing. Sadly I've lost my front light, so no more lurking I mean biking in the dark for me. (Don't worry, I'm getting my bike fixed this weekend).

So, the moral of the story? Hmmmm, how about don't overtake when the grass is wet? Or, don't overtake when there's something that'll hit the wheel? Or you know, just don't bike to work :P

Anyone want some books?

2009-05-11T18:33:00.003+12:00

My bookcases are a little overladen so I am trying to thin the ranks by getting rid of books I won't read much. I'll probably pop in to a second-hand book shop at some stage (which is where many of them originated), but I thought I'd mention it here first in case anybody would like give them a good home. I'm well aware that some of these are slightly unusual, but it's worth a shot. They're all in good nick.

A Chaucer Glossary
Exactly what it says it is: a Middle English dictionary that's restricted to words commonly used in Chaucer's works. Got very excited when I found it in Auckland and then realised I actually had it already.

Brideshead Revisited
An Evelyn Waugh novel. Upper-class British hijinks between the world wars. It uses the word "crapulous" (go on, look it up) and features a lord in his mid-20s who carries around a teddy bear (as you do).

Classic New Zealand Short Stories
Stories written about New Zealand or by New Zealanders from approx the 1870s to the 1960s or 70s. Fascinating and cringeworthy at the same time.

Ethnic American Short Stories: Stories that Explore the Diverse Ethnic Heritages Alive in America Today
It was published in 1975, hence the slightly odd title. Some of the stories are a bit dated, but they show a fascinating snapshot of 1950s, 60s and 70s America from a variety of viewpoints.

Egil's Saga
English translation of a saga written about the Icelandic/Norwegian clans and their shenanigans. Worth it just for the character's names, and because the purported author was called Snorri Sturluson.

Eyrbyggja Saga
Yes, that's the real title. The English translation of a relatively famous Icelandic saga - it's actually small chapters that are easy to follow. What can I say, I went through a saga phase.

Jonathan Swift: A Biography
A lot of fun to read - the man was clearly a bit off his rocker. Heaps of curious information about random things like bathing practices, wigs, coffee houses, the treatment of homosexuals and political circles in the Swiftian era.

Treasure Island.
Arrrrrrrrrr. Rum! Pieces of eight! And things.

Move over Kindle

2009-05-09T13:41:00.001+12:00

Because the iBible has arrived.

Women! Let the moon illuminate you!

2009-04-23T21:18:00.008+12:00

At work we have a forum where people can advertise their old bike, sell their kid's Barbie videos, ask if anyone knows a good plumber, or ask for people to sponsor their sister's workmate's friend's uncle as he runs the Small and Obscure But In Some Way Charitable marathon. It's mostly pretty pedestrian stuff, and occasionally there'll be a decent bargain: $50 for a relatively good 21" TV, fr'instance.

And then there's... well, special things. Things that belong in their own, unique, please-dear-God-let-this-be-a-one-time-thing category. The three ads below belong very firmly in this category; in fact, they reside there so stubbornly and habitually that they're putting out the recycling bins, paying the bills and trimming the gardens in the weekend in case Marg and Trev from next door pop over for a barbecue. They aren't an example so much as the definition.

Don't worry, they're perfectly safe for work. Just... special. You may need to click on the images to read all of the text. (It's totally worth it.)
And if that isn't moon-escent and consciously enhanceable enough for you, there's an equivalent for the mature woman in your life:
Enough, do you think? No, of course you don't! You're thinking, "Hmmm, I am moon-escent and consciously enhanced, and my older friends are now enriched with self-knowledge in a universal dimension, but I feel like I want more".

You're right to think that, oh truly self-possessed reader. You want to be able to inflict this... moon-escence onto the next generation, as well. To truly trauma- er, spread the spiritual exploration and love.
I share only because I care deeply about your transitions to insanity, dear readers. (And because the idea that someone in the world is working as a Menstruality Educator causes amazement in oh so many ways.)

Hey Hey We're the Sock Monkeys

2009-04-08T21:37:00.007+12:00

People say we monkey around...with socks?!

My mum surreptitiously took off with a pair of my socks the other week (ones that were worn and I didn't need, fortunately). Last night when I went round to my parent's place for tea it turned out she'd evolved them into a higher life form:

In real life he's even cuter ;)

My original idea was to call him Code, but apparently a pair of my brother's socks have disappeared as well (he's a programmer/web developer). Any suggestions on names?

I'm planning on learning how to make a sock monkey myself. Woo!

Uvula, sans serif and wine

2009-04-04T17:50:00.003+13:00

No day is complete without all three. Today's post is brought to you by the interwebs and alcohol - I'm being very unoriginal and just linking things.

The 20 weirdest places you can get piercings (mostly SFW). I'm not usually squeamish, but there were a few in here that made me go draw back in shock and go "ugh!". And then, of course, lean in for a closer look. Intriguing, you might say.

If you've ever wanted to go on holiday somewhere that caters to your interest in typography, why not try Sans Serriffe? Kudos to the Guardian for being so thorough.

And finally: I discovered two wine brands of Awesome at the Food Show today. Not sure how pricey they are, and one's Australian (...I guess we can forgive them for making excellent, tasty wine?) but they were pretty gosh-darn fantastic. From what the people on their stalls said, both are available in supermarkets. Hopefully that doesn't mean New World only...

For Kiwi goodness, try Tohu Wines.
For Aussie goodness try Brown Brothers. Weird names; great tastes.

U awake?

2009-03-16T21:09:00.002+13:00

Right click, down click, reply.
Pt 1 of 1.
I am, but.
We were friends. We had a deal. Right?
It was working. Awkward, but OK. Ease would have come again.
Deep breath.
Thumb twitch, hesitation.
You broke it, broke me.
Send.
Pause.
Right click, down click, reply.
Pt 2 of 2.
And then so did I. Because I wanted to, wanted you.
Because you're fun to break things with,
and for an hour or two we were.
Send.

Pause.
Sorry to break off halfway through.
Pause.
I wish you hadn't asked, I hadn't answered,
Wish we didn't have to repave our road; it's barely mended.
Pause.
Backspace, backspace, right click, delete.

Expressing ourselves with 160 character bursts
in the haze of sleep/drink:
Misery was inevitable.
Expectations.
And now the sound is warped.
Click. Pause.
I had hoped curved roads could straighten;
It seemed for a time ours could.
Send - no! Shit.

The length between replies is excruciating.
I was over you, over this.
You brought it back.
Long key press, wet key press, salt key press.

Right click, scroll, delete your messages.
Hope against hope, furious click press
We'll forget this in the morning.
I'll forget you in the morning.

Long short, long short.
Scan. Pause. Blink. Scan again.
Wet salt smile, relief!
God I hope you mean it this time.
Left click, left click, long key press, off.

Breathe.
We'll repave, then. I am weary, but I hope -

Your attention please

2009-03-16T21:03:00.003+13:00

Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to announce that the frustratingly long and stop-start saga "The GDID internship" is now over. Please calmly and quietly exit stage left for celebrations and relief.

Pfffffffffft... "quietly" indeed. I passed! Graduation's in September. The robes are royal blue, and they're pretty much the main reason I'll go to the ceremony (beats Canterbury's slate grey and unpink hands down). As Mr Keating from DPS would say, "YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALP"!

Split Culture vs Shout Culture

2009-02-21T11:12:00.007+13:00

Split Culture
When I was growing up, if a group of mates went out for lunch, dinner or the movies, we'd all pay for our own food or tickets. It was just taken for granted that everyone had their own money, and paid for themselves. If we were all clubbing together to buy a group lunch from the supermarket, or someone's 21st present, there was always a careful analysis of how much food or stuff we had so we could split the costs fairly between us. If it was a spur-of-the-moment thing or someone was caught short, then someone else would pay for them and they'd sort things out between them later on.

And that was how the world worked. The principle never changed with the dynamics or size of the group; if there were two of you or twenty, you paid for your own. If it was a group of girls, or a group of girls and guys, or just a girl and a guy mate, you paid for your own. You never needed to think about it, or question it; it just was. The only exception was when someone was caught short, or owed someone else, or perhaps two people in a group were dating, and so another person would pay on their behalf for that particular instance.

And it was called Split Culture (in my head), and it was good. The rules were simple, and everyone knew them.

Culture Clash
When I was at uni, I bumped into an old mate from church and childhood days, and we started hanging out. We'd go to the movies or get lunch or drinks. Not a lot, because he had a girlfriend, but in the casual way that you do when you reconnect with an old friend. And when it came to the moment of payment, we'd both pull out our wallets... and he'd say to the person on the till "I'm getting this". Or he'd slip out for a moment partway through dinner, and at the end say "Oh, don't worry, I paid earlier". Always. Whether I could afford to pay for myself or not, whether it was just one drink or a two-course dinner. He just paid every time, for every thing.

And it was not good. It irked me and made me feel uncomfortable, which confused me. He'd been incredibly generous and done a kind thing: why should it cause me to react that way? Surely I should feel grateful and appreciative, especially during the times when I couldn't afford a movie or drink? I did and I was, but the whole thing still felt wrong and awkward; there was something else going on.

I had grown up with the idea that everyone supports or pays for themselves. Getting someone else to pay for you or buy something for you - no matter how small - was tacitly admitting you weren't capable of providing for yourself and needed help. For some inexplicable reason this was Shameful and Not Done; like admitting you were a failure as in independent, functioning member of society. So although I knew my friend was just being generous and I appreciated it, I also felt embarrassed and humiliated. Part of me interpreted his actions as a giant red arrow pointing out my financial and social inadequacy, even though that's clearly not what they were. I've expressed my frustrations with these situations in this poem about power dynamics.

Over the years, I've come across this situation again and again: more often with guys than girls; more often with Poms or Europeans than Kiwis; more often in working or corporate circles than student circles. There's awkwardness or confusion or moments of "huh?" on both sides, because there's a massive socio-economic difference in culture and expectations.

And this second culture is called (in my head), Shout Culture. And it's also good, when you know what it is and how it works.

Shout Culture
When a group of workmates go out for coffee, one will pay for the others. They won't let you pay them back for your coffee when you offer, but they do expect that next time the group goes out, it'll be someone else's turn to pay for the coffees. When a group of mates go out drinking together, one will pay for everyone else's drinks. They won't let you pay them back for you drink when you offer, but they do expect that someone else will pay for the next round. There's a pattern to it, and in the end, the two cultures amount to the same thing. Everyone ends up equal.

So, in Shout Culture, when two friends go out for a meal or drinks and one of them's a guy and one of them's a girl, the guy will pay. The guy won't let the girl pay him back for the meal or drink when she offers, but he will expect that... er.

This is where my knowledge breaks down. I'm piecing Shout Culture together from what I've experienced at work or with friends, as an outsider. It's a foreign culture to me, so I don't have that implicit knowledge of what happens when, and why. I don't know what the guy expects in return, or even if he does expect something. It's probably just a form of courtesy, but it gets garbled and interpreted as power dynamics when the two cultures clash. It's partly what makes me nervous when a guy pays, because in Split Culture the expectation is that you always pay the person back. If you don't pay with money, then you do so in other ways (e.g. driving them somewhere if they don't have a car); take from that what you will.

I asked a male, British mate of mine once why he always paid and mentioned that it actually made me feel a bit uncomfortable, because of the culture I'd been raised with. He seemed genuinely surprised that it was even a point of comment, and said "But that's just the way I was raised". For him, that's just how the world works. The rules are simple, and everyone understands them.

Except that it isn't, and they're not, and they don't.

So what are your experiences of Split and Shout Culture? Which one do you think you've grown up with and take for granted? Are there others you've come across that I haven't mentioned? And if you're a Shout Culture native, feel free to explain things or correct me where I've gotten things wrong.

Normal service will resume shortly

2009-02-17T18:17:00.002+13:00

*Waves*

Thought I'd wave hello to my loyal reader in case you'd forgotten what I look like. (I think I still have a reader left?) I've been kind of busy recently and haven't blogged much (which is weird for me if I'm not studying; usually non-studying me has spare time dripping off her hands. Where did she go? (Hmm, how did I suddenly develop a second me? (Maybe my second me can tell me what my hair looks like from the back! (OK and now that I'm making Harry Potter references I really need to close the brackets)))).

(Bad brackets, bad).

So.. yeah, I have a bunch of posts I want to make. I will make them. I will, I will. (That sounds like the start of something Dr Suessy... no! I shall fight you, oh brackets of distraction!) I shall bend my will towards the keyboard (insert Yugioh images here). For a bit of a spoiler, one of them discusses the way Christians behave towards other Christians who don't follow the rules (i.e "sin"), sparked by a chat I had with an old friend a few weeks ago. It struck me as a blatant example of how our corporate behaviour or culture directly contradicts our theology.

Feel free to comment and hassle me if the posts don't turn up.

Job hunters: Why you're probably smarter than your prospective bosses

2009-01-28T17:30:00.006+13:00

Because they write ads like this:

Thanks for the hat tip, Ray :) And for those of you who are already employed (especially the writers):

The new year bandwagon

2009-01-09T17:47:00.002+13:00

1. What did you do in 2008 that you’d never done before?

Went to an Ilam camp (there's a reason why they're legendary)
Learnt Latin (or tried to. Still can't read the mottoes on bridges though)
Went to the Wearable Arts in Wellington
Attended an art exhibition opening and bought some art
Became a Sunday School teacher
Went to a comedian's gig/concert thing (Bill Bailey)
Did the whole networking thing and got myself a writing job
Voted for a party my parents hate (but I am secretly proud of)
Created a painting (of sorts)
Wrote poetry while drunk... and posted it on the internet

2. Did you keep your new year's resolutions, and will you make more for the next year?
No. I suspect it was something about finding God, and I had all these good intentions about going to Taize services and things. Sort of worked in first semester (yay Ilam), epic fail in second semester. So I'm not going to do them this year - I have a couple of things I'd like to try, I'll see how those go.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
A few friends had daughters. Scary to think people my age are mums.

4. Did anyone close to you die?
No, fortunately.

5. What countries did you visit?
None, sadly. Unless the North Island counts? Am planning to make up for that this year.

6. What would you like to have in 2009 that you lacked in 2008?
Confidence, maybe? Yeah. Liking who I am and figuring things out with my faith.

7. What dates from 2008 will remain etched in your memory, and why?
I want to say the dates I handed in those mental assignments, but I've forgotten them already! My birthday, my friend's birthday cos we filled her room with balloons, December 23 cos it was a bit landmarky in an unhappy but good way.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Being confident enough to approach someone about the merest whisper of the possibility of an internship... then following it through, and ending up with both an internship and a job. I still can't quite believe that happened! Very un-me like.
Finishing my final theory paper of the GDID without getting sick. Yeah.

9. What was your biggest failure of the year?
Mucking up a couple of friendships with good mates. All guys, weirdly. I'm sorry. I was a prize idiot.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
Nope. Oooh wait, there was that incident with the tram tracks. Nothing major, though.

11. What was the best thing you bought?

With money: my usability textbook (sad, I know).
With my company's health plan: some counselling sessions. Best investement ever; I wish I'd done it a decade ago.
Without money: clothes from the clothes swap. I love the fact that incredibly styley people decided they didn't need those clothes anymore :)

12. Whose behaviour merited celebration?
Some of my friends, for being courageous through an extremely tough year. Another friend for being very gracious in an awkward situation. And of course, I'm tempted to say Obama.

13. Whose behaviour made you appalled and depressed?
Mine, and one or two other people I can think of who did daft things.

14. Where did most of your money go?
Rent, food, books, that kind of thing.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
My job! Finishing my theory paper and going to Wellington were pretty exciting, too.

16. What song will always remind of you of 2008?
Opshop's Maybe and Sufjan Stevens' Sister Winter.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
a) happier or sadder?
Both. Happier in myself and more secure financially, emotionally, etc, but sadder cos a lot of my mates are moving away this year.

b) fatter or thinner?
Thinner. First time in a decade :)

c) richer or poorer?
Richer.

18. What do you wish you'd done more of?
Had fun with people and travelled. Read. Relaxed.

19. What do you wish you'd done less of?
Procrastinating, stressing, getting stuck in my own head (oh intraversion, you sneaky thing).

20. How did you spend Christmas?
With family, and a couple of orphan families. Then with friends who came round when I was sick, you guys are awesome! Great day.

21. Did you fall in love in 2008?
Nope. Almost... nah.

22. What was your favourite TV programme?
I watched Firefly a lot, then became addicted to Gossip Girls. So trashy but so good.

23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?
Nope. Am frustrated with one or two people that I had no issues with a year ago, though.

24. What was the best book you read?
One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest.

25. What was your greatest musical discovery?
Emily Louizeou (I know I've spelt that wrong).

26. What did you want and get?
Happier; a decent job.

27. What did you want and not get?
The end of my study; a certain relationship.

28. What was your favourite film of this year?
Stardust. So. Incredibly. Awesome.

29. What did you do on your birthday and how old did you turn?
Worked in the morning, sat in the sun and read in the afternoon, turned 24.

30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
Finishing that freakin' internship! Oh well...

31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2008?
Less scruffy than 2007's? I discovered skirts and tights and colour.

32. What kept you sane?
Several completely awesome friends, my flatmates.

33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
None. I admire Bill Bailey and Jon Stewart though.

34. What political issue stirred you the most?
The US election, and the situation in Zimbabwe. Meeting Zimbabweans makes it a bit more real.

35. Who did you miss?
Richard, Sam, Alethea.

36. Who was the best new person you met?
Lots, actually. Mostly Emma, Sarah, Hannah and Andy.

37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2008.
Sometimes you just have to be assertive or proactive, even if it seems scary.

38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.
Can't think of any, really.

Terry Pratchett: still awesome

2009-01-05T21:08:00.002+13:00

"'This is their place, Papa. Their ancestors built it. And put on the globe there the symbol of a wave breaking in front of the setting sun, which every man of the islands has worn as a tattoo for thousands of years. I saw it! And you know what? I can prove that no European has been into this cave before me.' Daphne looked around, chest heaving with passion. 'See the gold on the gods and the globe and the big door?'

'Yes. Of course, dear. I could hardly fail to notice.'

'There you are, then,' said Daphne, picking up the lamp. 'It's still here!'"

- Terry Pratchett, Nation

I'd like to be here

2008-12-31T16:47:00.003+13:00

"Do I believe the Bible? I’m trying to know the Bible. And by knowing, I mean the way that Adam knew Eve, and the way that the Creator knows us. I mean the kind of knowing that is like falling in love. I’m trying to love/know the Bible. And I will always struggle with how I can love/know the scriptures when some parts are so hard and mean and awful that you feel bad for even reading them. And then some parts are so beautiful that you can’t stop crying when they whisper little hints of truth and mystery to you."

Read more...

Ghost bikes

2008-12-30T21:39:00.003+13:00

Are the cyclist's version of white roadside crosses, a trend started by an artist a few years ago that has evolved into memorials. There's even an official site for the next time you might need advice on that sort of thing (with a branch in Whangarei, of all places). If I ever see another cyclist killed on the road, I'm so doing this.

Summer has evolved

2008-12-29T21:55:00.003+13:00

summer has evolved
my holiday is interrupted by 8 hours of
cold, conditioned computer-screen silence
it ends with a swift break-neck home
changing into shorts, singlets, jandals
sausages open windows drink
lickety split
air!
wandering to a mate's place
for gossip, cold beer and left overs

we compare burns like hard-won battle scars
red raw roasted
purple peeling blistered
straps, neck lines, curves, shadows
shyness vapours:
it's matter of fact when sharing with friends

we're old veterans, grimacing with approval
questioning; the clothes, the time, the place?
it takes a lifetime's experience
to recognise and grade them
without the shadow of cancer
we laugh and assent:
the inner knee is this week's coolest

but seeing the clock,
feeling the office dreading its way into our mind
we reluctantly say
ahhhh, thanks
I spose it's time to go
next time we'll have L&P and brandy
the perfect summer drink

saunter home
half watching the dark blue smooth to amber
(if only my eye make up were so faultless)
the street lights, this season's understated decorations
the residual heat of the day
mmmm
tomorrow night will be just as good

My head is a mess

2008-12-23T20:59:00.002+13:00

What with the last few weeks and unexpected complications with a friend. Today, I made a good decision. A mutual one. An incredibly difficult one. I've gone through the full gamut of emotions since lunch time; everything except happiness and the understanding that I did the "right thing". In time, I know this will pass, but for now I'll let Sufjan speak for me:

Lyrics for Sister Winter are here.

The power dynamics of food

2008-12-15T23:24:00.004+13:00

Monday, 3.25 am
I wake up and think:
what am I worried about?
I remember work
and you
the dinner we said we'd have
Protestant work ethics and power dynamics
ingrained so painfully
remind me to hate / freak out / guilt deeply when men pay for me
drinks, dinner, whatever
I cannot handle charity
I must make sure
You do not pay for my tea

Monday, 1.10pm
lunch and I email you
about our final project meeting
god I can't wait til it's over
the last hurrah of my student career
You bought the last round,
it's only fair that I pay this time
I must make sure
You do not pay for my tea

Monday, 3.15pm
and there's your reply
casually asking
have I thought where to eat?
I hadn't thought yet freeze up blurt Indian,
because work is busy and I'm lazy and you're English
I must make sure
You do not pay for my tea

It's just a matter of pride
I'm earning, now, aren't I?
It's not like I don't appreciate the kindness of men, fr
iends stretching back over the years
with disposable incomes and 60 hour weeks
my turn
my turn

no one can say I didn't work for this right

Monday, 5.48pm
So you're 20 minutes late and I've done
all the damn work
golf?! I lost half my weekend for this!
you're funny
and co-operative
but I won't mind if you buy me a pint
I must make sure
that I pay for the tea

Monday, 7.30 pm
Last edit
Your edit
because I did the rest
No that's unfair I spose god I'm grumpy
I don't care about the tattoo
and the afternoon of cheated hope
the smell of smokes, sweet and rank
last night's fears seem hyperbolic
sin/syn/... serotonin glut?
You're paying for that damn drink
but I feel that as a modern feminist
You must not pay for my tea

Monday, 8.35
You paid for the Kilkenny
I knew you would
You have good taste in drink and a salary to match
I forgot that side of you
Unwinding with stories of why we've done this
Snatches and eddies
I do not miss the oh-so-important tangents
from 10 seconds ago
my anxiety sips gently away
I am relaxed: my most alien state
and you are gregarious
and say "don't tell anyone this; we know people in common"
I am most comfortable in bare feet
in a pub
with beer
and a good mate
tea? why not, I'm easy.

Relaxed, I mean: I'm relaxed.

Monday, 9.26 pm
We walk, almost straight lines
To the Indian two doors away
The waiter knows you by name
And you know wine
I remember why I love drinking with wine snobs:
the taste's always good saves my lack of knowledge
We share
far too much
or just enough
about us, our parents
there was something...
i think we could go halves on the tea?

Monday, 10.15pm
the hair in the curry disgusts you but not me
You say "there's almost a generation between us"
and spark a whole conversation about advertising
I say "If you're from... did you speak Welsh?"
You say "I'm half Welsh, I went to a Welsh-speaking school"
me too
well, the half-Welsh bit
I am furiously jealous that you got to keep your language
We connect over Chaucer
You don't mind that I translate the original for fun
I am stopped dead with surprise and delight
This never, ever happens to me
Why aren't you "nearly a generation" younger?!
I say, "don't tell any of my Christian mates this; we know people in common"
We're both a little ripped and it's a Monday night
So getting home to our respective
last bus?
I don't mind if you pay for our tea

Monday, 10.45pm
we hug goodbye
I forgot that short guys are
my god perfect to hug
Barossa Valley's done well
to rob that inhibition from me
you're comfortable and illicit
say, "We were a great team, weren't we?"
and I say, "Yeah, defnitley hey thanks for the dinner it was thanks so much"
and you say, "Well, I'm off for smokes, but..."
(no can't have been, you'd say "cigarettes")
and I say, "Well I'll probably be round your way this weekend"
and you say, "Yeah, do, do drop in, let me know"
i may be reporting this inaccurately but

halfway home
I'm listening to Muse
and you David Bowie
you text "are you on your way safe?"
this is why
I like you so much better when you're sober
because you're kind and english and a good
I'm glad you paid for my tea
it fitted

Monday, 11.57 pm -12.20 am
the text conversation is over
I'm worried it's drunk poetry time
explained the protestant guilt
sorry, it's a monday i'm too
my brain shoots straight to work, I can't do that again
even though... well, best left unsaid
I'm glad we're mates and there's nothing else in it
5 years ago I'd've run a mile from a bloke like you
what with the beer and the smokes and the
voice like home i've never been to
but you surprise me
you read

I've promised next time, it'll be kiwi
It won't emasculate you if the girl pays
and you seem ok
for me to pay for our tea

It's not Christmas without

2008-12-14T13:19:00.003+13:00

small, cute children singing a song at a church service. It doesn't actually matter what the song is, or how well they sing it: the cuteness factor overrides all of that.
sunburn.
beer (although not at my teetotal parents' place, sadly).
Thrice's cover of Carol of the Bells.
at least 4 randoms at our family's Christmas day lunch. My mum rounds up Christmas orphans each year. This year it's going to be 4 German students and a Filipino family.
whinging about Christmas songs and/or carols and the crass, northern hemisphere-centric commercialism that starts in September.
midnight mass at the Anglican convent. I love the whole vibe: incense, elaborately embroidered vestments, communion wine, nervously singing a-cappella hymns I don't know the words to and can never find in the unfamiliar multi-lingual hymn book. Am I a closet Anglican?!
Family (which includes some of my friends who are basically family).
sleeping in on at least one day over the Christmas break and doing sweet f-all the rest of the day (reading counts as 'nothing').
Magical Elves. I know it's unethical chocolate, but it's just so darn good.

What are the essentials of your Christmas season?

Adversity brings unity...

2008-12-11T21:25:00.003+13:00

Or so they say. Tonight I saw the literal embodiment of that epithet.

I've kept in touch with a few mates from my old job, and got invited to the farewell drinks and dinner of a couple of other staff members. It's been 6 weeks since I left, so I thought the gap would tell. But people were genuinely pleased to see me, and we started from where we'd left off 6 weeks ago. It amazed me how good it felt, as if I'd never left and was still part of the group. It helped that 5 other people there had either just left or were about to leave.

There was an atmosphere of celebration and triumph; an atmosphere that certainly never existed at work. It was a fantastic night and I came home buzzed and happy (yeah, I know: work functions are never like that!!).

Having moved jobs, I noticed a few things I hadn't seen 6 weeks ago. People were closer; there was more blatant negativity and bitchiness about where the company was headed; people were starting to be more cavalier about what they said to management; people were genuinely thrilled for anyone who "stuck it to the man" by handing in their resignation. I was struck by the last-day-of-school vibe and camaraderie; something I realised I miss tremendously.

I wondered why the behaviour was so obvious when it hadn't been before, and didn't seem evident in my new company. Was it just because I hadn't noticed it when I was part of it?

And then I got told things had gone seriously downhill since I'd left. Colleagues quite freely told me the horror stories that had pushed them over the edge. Mere rumblings when I left were now full-fledged volcanoes. I was congratulated for "getting out in time" and comments of a rodent, inept boating and marine nature were made. I got this weird visual image of my ex-colleagues as refugees, all rushing to get out before the borders close and things get dire.

It also occurred to me that the reason I haven't seen it in my new job is:
a) my new job is new. I still don't know people all that well.
b) my new job has squillions of employees. My old job had a total of 50.
c) my new job is normal and mostly functional. My old job wasn't.

So the bad thing about working for a maladjusted company? You'll hate your job and the management, pay and hours will be awful. But the good thing is you'll have a marvellous support group if everyone else is in the same boat. You'll probably form lasting friendships and miss that group when you leave for a decent job.

It's just a shame it takes a crap situation to create such strong bonds.

You know you're over study when...

2008-11-24T21:54:00.003+13:00

You cut out the conclusion of your final report (worth 60%) in the interests of "brevity".
You have to develop an outline of a powerpoint presentation, and instead of using real text you fill the spaces with obscure movie references.
You're so tired that your mates all think you're drunk.
You stop at random points of your study and yell "I just want my evenings and weekends back!" at the wall. You wait for the wall to talk back.
You form an intimate, yet unhealthily dependant relationship with your computer.
You write up your final assignment in a pub... two and a bit hours before it's due... while drinking Guinness and Kilkenny.
Your project partner turns up half an hour late to a meeting and you don't even care.
Your meetings are twice as long because you spend the first half sitting in a stunned, eye-glazed fashion bitching about the project.
You try to write a post about how you know when you're over study and ... feh.

Now I know this is one list you all want to add to. Go on - make it the most comprehensive list on the internets!

More Christianese!

2008-11-19T16:40:00.002+13:00

"It can be a beautiful experience when it’s woven together perfectly or it can be like putting a cougar inside an IT department. That analogy made no sense, but that’s how blended worship can go sometimes. Nonsensically."

See the rest at #424 It's from the site Stuff Christians Like. Yes, it's a parody of Stuff White People Like. And it's generally awesome. Apparently Americans have a sense of humour. Who knew? :P

An Apology

2008-11-19T16:23:00.002+13:00

So I kind of over promised and under delivered with the whole Election Post series (or un-series, as it turned out). I figured most people would vote for one of the first 4 anyway and then I ran out of enthusiam half way through (i.e the day before the election). Sorry. Basing voting decisions on my blog posts is probably not the best, so at least I prevented that :)

Also, to the people who actually do read my blog (all 5 of you); you may have noticed I have a habit of doing this with a 'series' of posts. See Gigging 101 for a perfect example. The saddest thing about not following through on blog posts is that I always finish off assignments and work projects, to a ridiculous and overcommitted level. Clearly my priorities are a bit messed up.

In other news, I only have 1.5 weeks of my Usability paper left. Hurrah! Then I will be almost nearly qualified, if my internship ever actually begins. It's like an overweight sparrow at the moment: almost gets off the ground with tremendous effort, then thumps down to earth and remains stunned and motionless for a few days. You know how it is.

Tchus.

I can haz eyesight!

2008-11-06T17:28:00.003+13:00

I have recently acquired a brand, spanking new flat LCD screen from the Flatmate of Helpfulness (from whom many random bits and pieces have been procured over the last year or so). Now my desk has a huge amount of empty space and my eyes don't bleed after staring at my screen for ages. Hurrah!

It's the first of a number of technological improvements, as I'll eventually be replacing the rest of my compy with his old one. So in a month or two, I will have a small, white CPU and even more space on my desk. Oh and I'll be converting to Mac. Woo?

Of course, I'll be paying said flatmate at some point. Absolutely. *She says nervously while packing her bags and booking a flight to Botswana*

Now I just have to get the old screen back to my brother's flatmate and swap it for the original - mine flaked out last year so we did a temporary switch while it was fixed... .a temporary switch that lasted a year, hmmm.

Oh yes: I have to somehow get rid of/sell/donate the original. Any ideas?

Election 08 erehwon style: part two

2008-11-02T16:36:00.007+13:00

Sorry for the delay, you know me: always a little bit late, but never quite late enough to miss the entire event. Now that we're here, grab a comfy seat and something to eat (perhaps a sedative, if you're that way inclined). Please bear in mind these posts are tongue in cheek. Since this one's pretty big, I'm splitting it in two.

New Zealand First
The first page is Flash and dominated by a picture of Winnie (fair enough, he basically is the party). There's two links: parlimentary info or campaign info. Um, what? Can't I just go straight to your website without passing Go and collecting 200? Good start: I'm confused, and I haven't even made the home page. For some reason this site features miniscule text. Considering their main demographic is over the age of 50, they're doing themselves a huge disservice. The whole site looks a bit cramped and reminds me of the newspaper mock up we had to do for a project in Form Two.

Policies:
There is an obvious link from the home page, and although the list of policies is ugly (two levels of bullets and underlining), it's alphabetical. Each policy page uses tiny text and the headings are in CAPS. On the other hand, they're clearly laid out with good hierarchies, short paragraphs, bullet points and good use of white space. Win.

Candidates:
There was a link for MPs, although only about 6 were listed. Since they're a small party, they probably don't have a candidate in my electorate. Oh well.

All up: the site is ugly, but fairly usable once you've gotten past the confusing first page.

Labour
Oh. My. God. This is basically the internet's equivalent of a stroppy, blinged out teenager with multi-coloured hair, too much makeup; standing in front of you gesticulating wildy and screaming for attention. There's a lot going on. My eyeballs feel assaulted: seriously Helen, what did they ever do to you?

Policies:
They've summarised these according to groups (e.g Health), rather than listed each one specifically. Each policy page is very text heavy - although they've used headings and paragraphs, they haven't discovered the concept of space; it's very cramped. Since spaces are what readers use to determine a break in content (even more so than headings), that's a bit surprising. They've also used a small, narrow typeface. Grrr.

Candidates:
Yes. They have them. You can sort them according to electorate, which is handy, but they're actually still listed by name, which is not. The name of the electorate is in small type 3 lines below the candidate's large, bold, red name. Fail. But if you click on the candidate's name you get a small blurb and picture. Yay.

All up: Yeah, it's functional, but it's also incredibly annoying. With a budget that's supposedly been gleaned from millionaires and Chinese criminals, you'd think they could do a bit better.

Greens
And that's exactly what their site is: very, very green. It's actually kind of calming. There's still a lot going on, but they've used one basic, cohesive colour scheme which has made the whole site much more visually appealing. Less really can be more, Aunty Helen. Again we have a front page before you get to the main site: pretty, but annoying for those who don't have broadband.

Policies:
There's an alphabetical list, with a link to a fuller set for those so inclined. Again, they've made really good use of bulleted lists and headings. They've also got a decent-sized font, making this the most readable policy site so far. Yay.

Candidates:
Again, you can choose to order this by electorate, which is what I'm after. This time, they really do order them according to electorate, in table form and alphabetically. It's a bit scroll city, but by clicking on the candidate's name you get info - it's very obvious what's clickable and what's not, which is handy.

All up: This is the nicest site so far, being both visually attractive and relatively easy to navigate. I also found all the info I needed: go Greens.

National
Oi with the blinged out Flash sites, already. Here's the thing, MPs: if the voter can't find the info they need, even the most spectacular bells and whistles will not save your site. And visual noise is just as annoying as aural noise. Just sayin'. At least there is a cohesive colour scheme here. Small mercies, eh?

Policies:
Very easy to find - there's a drop-down list on the left-hand menu. Unfortunately, some of the policies are missing. There's a page for them, but the text reads "give us your views on...". This includes their economic policy. Mmm. Epic fail. The pages that actually have content have a lot of links, and it takes a while to figure out which ones I'm looking for. They've used bullets, headings and white space very well, and have links at the top of each page for downloading the policy in different formats.

Candidates:
They've got a very clear link from the home page, and you can choose to order them according to electorate. Again, links have been signposted very clearly.

All up: I've been pleasantly surprised; it was less visually annoying than Labour, and as navigable as the Greens. I really like the way they've got a section on the home page for policies, candidates and electorates that stand out from other menu options. The lack of policies pretty much cancels that out, though.

Designing websites... straight outta Compton

2008-10-28T15:13:00.000+13:00

Election 08 erehwon style: part one

2008-10-18T16:23:00.012+13:00

Deciding how to vote
With only 3 weeks until the election, people are starting to talk about who they might vote for. If you're anything like me (politically oblivious and disinterested at the best of times), you'll be thinking about maybe scanning a few websites the night before the election, or just voting for your usual (generic big party/small party/whoever your parents don't vote for).

As usual, it's a bit of a 50 cent mixture. So, to save you all a heck of a lot of effort and time, I shall give you a quick summary of each of the 9 most likely larakins, based solely on how pretty/usable their website is. After all, this is politics, a place where reason and objectivity whither and die. I'll be using a few guidelines to narrow things down and keep it brief. I'll also make a half-hearted attempt at being non-partisan without actually achieving objectivity, much in the same way that mainstream media do.

Guidelines:
I'll be basing my analysis very loosely on Nielsen's 10 Heuristics for websites. I'm looking for 2 main things:

The party's policies. I'm not interested in how pretty candidates look on TV, or how well they slag other candidates off. I want to know what they'll actually do (or attempt to do) when we elect them.
The party's candidate in my electorate (Wigram, just). I have to make 2 ticks, so knowing who the candidates are will stop me having to do paper scissors rock by myself in the polling booth.

How this blog series will work
Part Two will summarise how awesome or sucky each of the websites are. I've chosen the nine parties who have a snowball's chance of getting at least some candidates in. In no order, these are:

New Zealand First
Labour
Greens
National
United Future
Maori
Act
Progressive
Alliance

Part Three will give a summary of the 10 other parties' sites, because everyone needs a laugh in these dark and troubled times. I'll give these guys a bit more slack, since the majority of them are either one-man-bands or running their entire campaign on the bones of their bum.

Who needs pets when you can get a writer?

2008-10-16T18:00:00.002+13:00

"Whether your writer is a struggling novelist, a troubled poet, or a radical playwright, you may find yourself dealing with some of the same issues that my loved ones have encountered. Although they're no longer communicating with me, I've written this book to help people just like them. In fact, I've dedicated this book to my ex-wife and the wonderful staff of the San Francisco Biofeedback & Stress Clinic, where she is currently an inpatient. (I'd also like to thank her parents for covering costs there, and for not pursuing further legal action against me.)

Remember, a young writer can seem cute and harmless, but without proper nurturing he or she can grow to be an unmanageable adult. However, with the right early care and training, the writer in your life can become a unique and wonderful companion, one that can draw you, the writer's special human caregiver, into a lasting and loving relationship."

See the rest of The Complete Guide to the care and training of the Writer in your life

Messing about with paint

2008-10-15T21:11:00.004+13:00

I'm not an artist by any stretch of the imagination, but I do work in a cubicle. This means that I am frequently in need of some soothing, calming influence or cheerful sight to remind me of happier times while I work. Short of buying (and accidentally swallowing) The Little Book of Calm, what are the options?

Well, this artist has a blog that's all about drawing on post-it notes while at work. I was inspired, but post-it notes have a fleeting life span in our company. Strangely, blank address labels have a habit of turning up relatively often at the end of a print run, or get orphaned when someone prints a non-existent address from our database. All those poor, blank, lonely address labels just get chucked. A flagrant waste, in my opportunistic opinion.

Clearly, I need to save them, and turn them into office art for my cubicle. (I use "art" in the loosest sense of the word). Art can be therapeutic, calming and soothing, right? It can be cheerful and remind us of happier times, right? Of course it can. So I have very meticulously scrounged each orphan address label, taken it home, painted or drawn on it, and then taken it back and pinned it to my cubicle wall. After all, I wouldn't want to be accused of stealing office supplies, would I?

Below are four of my six current art blobs. When I leave my job, I will take aforesaid blobs (unless any of my cubicle mates want them) with me, and attach them to the wall next to my compy at home. That way, I'll be able to procrastinate and daydream efficiently in a variety of environments, and it'll feel like I'm still working *cough*.

Medium: Poster paints on address label.
Inspiration: A tile pattern

Medium: Pencil on address label.
Inspiration: A picture celebrating summer - in the middle of winter.

Medium: Vivid, highlighter and pencil on address label.
Inspiration: Because everyone needs the Cheat on their wall.

Medium: Vivid and highlighter on address label.
Inspiration: Oooh look, pretty colours! *claps happily*

Lather, invade, repeat

2008-10-13T20:56:00.002+13:00

The one thing that can be said about US foreign policy is that at least it's consistent. It also means that 40 year old satire still applies. Ladies and gentlemen, the legendary Tom Lehrer:

Also the author of the famous Poisoning Pigeons in the Park. He's fast becoming one of my favourite comedians (despite the fact I only found out about him 2 weeks ago). He's right up there with Bill Bailey when it comes to musical ability mixed with satire.

Yes, dahling, but is it ahrt? Conversation at a gallery

2008-10-10T18:50:00.005+13:00

I was looking at a collection of paintings that featured birds when a tall, thin lecturer-like middle-aged guy walked up to me and said, "Yes, it looks an awful lot like B's work, I think." (Sorry, forgotten the artist's name; it sounded French and he obviously painted birds).

I was so astonished I didn't say anything. Did I look like the sort of person who knew about art? I mean, I'd been looking at the paintings rather intently, but only because I was trying to figure out if I liked them or really, really hated them. They were the sort that use lots of obviously symbolic stuff, but you have no idea what they're meant to be symbolic of.

Quick mental check of what I was wearing: jeans and an orange V-neck tshirt. Not exactly artistic. Granted, my hair has that frenzied artiste/postgrad look to it, but otherwise I'm pretty generic. Oh... maybe he thinks I'm an art student? Uh oh. What on earth do you say to someone who starts a conversation like this? Nod, frown and look intelligent?

Without noticing my pause, he said, "Mmm, B was, of course, a seminal artist in this particular style during the 70's, but his work was so much more Modernist, don't you think? Much less dark".

I replied that yes, the colours were rather dark and gave the paintings a stormy atmosphere.

"Yes, you're right, these are very evocative. Interesting how she's positioned the birds."

I replied that I liked the way they were the focus of each painting, even though some weren't obviously in the foreground.

"Mmm, mmm indeed. And fraught with symbolism, very bold. Oh and look, there's obviously been a mis-print here, that's not the XY building at all, it's the AB building just across the road, I work there actually. They've listed it as "sliding down the shute" which is... well, it's entirely different, that must be the painting next to it. What a shame they didn't get that one right".

I replied that I had no idea, because I was from Christchurch.

"Oh, and what are you up in Wellington for?"

I replied that I was here to see the Wearable Arts, mainly, and catch up with mates.

At which point, he nodded curtly and walked off.

I got art but I'm not an arter(y)

2008-10-07T17:38:00.003+13:00

I spent last weekend in Wellington, mainly to see the Wearable Arts but also as a mini holiday. When we got picked up by my mum's friends, they took us round the bays and then to the opening of an exhibition featuring one of their friends' art.

By "art exhibition", I mean "wine, nibbles and poncy arty types". I'd never been to one before, and felt a bit apprehensive. If you want to discuss colour quality or visual metaphor as compared to the works of an obscure artist from a previous decade, I am precisely the wrong person to talk to. Nevertheless, I was curious.

We were greeted at the door by a large, corporate looking security guard who seemed perfectly happy to let us in when we realised we'd forgotten our invitations and called us all "sweetie". We were then given outlines of the artworks by a chubby middle-aged man with extremely short, bleached blonde hair and Dali-esque mo, severely square glasses and a bright orange coat. So far, so cliché. That's when I knew I was in for a marvellously amusing morning.

I decided to have some of the free wine and food (because I'd skipped breakfast and free wine is free wine) and relaxed. The artists were actually all approachable and lovely to talk to. They keenly explained what techniques they use, how long each work takes to create, and why a small triptych costs $1500.

There was an amazing variety of stuff: my personal favourite was the artist who managed to incorporate sand, ground driftwood and kakapo faeces into her art. She scrapped paint off the canvas to give it a weird texture, and then layered the other stuff on top, making each painting look a bit like a strata'd cliff. I was intrigued, like I had never trigued or in'd before. It actually looked pretty amazing, and if I was wealthy I might have bought one.

And then I walked past one artist's paintings and ... stopped. You know how sometimes you see something and decide to stay and gorge your eyes for a while, because if that something leaves your visual field your life will be incrementally less bright and lovely? Yes. It hangs at the back of your mind like an over-due assignment and nudges. Quietly murmurs, "I'm appealing in a way that you can't quite explain, but I've got your attention. Keep looking and see if you can figure me out."

So I looked at it. And walked past... and gravitated back. The price tag made it clear that unless I made an awful lot of money very quickly - and possibly illegally - it was staying there. Then Mum noticed that the artist also had some small black and white prints. It wasn't as vivid as the colour stuff, but it was - how can I say this? Sometimes I see art or jewellery or poetry and it just fits. It makes sense in a way that an awful lot of art, jewellery and poetry doesn't. It's not the Sistene Chapel but it's me-ish kind of stuff. I think I might turn into an art geek....

Oh, and someone did try to talk to me about art. But that's another post.

Hi I'm Christina and I'm an addict

2008-10-01T18:44:00.002+13:00

I have slowly come to the realisation that I might have an addiction. Well, maybe not addiction as such. Just... you know. A fondness. An appreciation. A predilection, if you will. For, ah. For um.... sandwiches. Granted, the fillings chop and change, but when it comes to cheap portable luncheon choices, I'm as predictable as an old lady.

You could almost say I love them; have an "eat them for lunch every day for months and still find them exciting" kind of adoration for them. It's not that I don't like having other stuff, or that eating a sandwich every day is a religious obligation. I just like sandwiches. They're quick and easy, versatile and filling. I don't even have to think when I'm making lunch for the next day.

Take yesterday's monolith. The weekly shopping had just been done, so there was an unusually large number of condiments and fillings available. I could have created something warming and tasty, like soup or an omelette. That would have been appropriate for the cooler weather. But the sandwich lover - nay, the sandwich addict - is not daunted by choice or temperature.

Thrusting aside all misleading thoughts of Other Foods and Superfluous Meals, I jandaled my way to the fridge, sturdily opened the door and beheld the wonder within. With wild abandon I foraged carrots, salad, cucumber, ham, mushroom, tomato, salad dressing; piling them upon the soft, fresh brown bread. Should I add mustard? Chilli sauce? A touch of Tobasco? No! For those were yesterday's condiments, unworthy of a second chance in the Sarnie of Size!

Oh, I'm sorry. I'll just clear that drool up and take a moment...

But it's cool. I can switch midday food choices at any time. Salad. Muffins. Last night's leftovers. See, I can eat those and not even twitch! Afterwards I feel guilty and the bread gives me reproaching looks, but I can totally get over that. I'll give sandwiches the cut, one day, you'll see. I just don't feel like it right now.

In which "your lacerated face" is discussed as a band name

2008-09-21T22:19:00.004+12:00

You know you're drinking quality tequila when:

The label has 4 typefaces, 2 languages and a bewildering number of bright child-friendly colours.

The official title includes the words "two worms".
There's a cute cartoon of aforementioned worms nestling cosily on the bottle's neck (or is it siftily? It's hard to tell, their facial expressions are a little enigmatic).

The description on the back defies logic and grammar, even when sober. It reads, "This product contains a genuine agave worm, from which is totally normal that it spreads out some particles that don't effects the quality of beberage neither your health"

Your friend tells you he wants to smash his cocktail glass on the table and use the shards to lacerate your face, and you respond with "that would make a great band name!"
There are actually two worms at the bottom of the bottle.

If you've never seen cross-dressing in church, you've never been to Ilam

2008-09-19T17:08:00.003+12:00

OK so the title is actually unrelated to the post, but ask an Ilamite about it sometime (one who was at last week's service). It involved the pastor's son, no less.

Just wanted to draw your attention to a new kind of footwear that blurs the line between wearing shoes and going barefoot: Fivefingers .It's a bit like toe socks, but more so.

And once your head has finished falling off, remember: Jesus is watching you.

Yes, I know this post has been incoherent. I have been reading about how to conduct various different kinds of usability testing, in photocopied textbook glory. Each chapter had twenty page appendices. So... yeah. Am looking for my beer right about now.

Oh cartoons, how do you know me so well?

2008-09-15T18:05:00.002+12:00

"You forgot how annoying an older brother is, didn't you?

2008-09-07T21:44:00.003+12:00

Yes, I did. I forgot that older brothers still hassle you even when you're both adults. I also forgot they're lots of fun to have stupid, weird conversations with. And that they exhibit the male syndrome of "hmm, if I shut the car boot on my finger like so - aha! It will bleed for hours and I will need stitches!"

I forgot because it's been a while since we've all seen each other. But today was Father's Day, so our small and slightly insane clan met up for lunch. We had the usual joke argument about being late, because growing up Being Late was right up there with Massacring Thousands of Innocents and Forgetting to Tithe. We had the usual random conversations about everything from mercury in lightbulbs, to the Coast to Coast, eye surgery, Bill Bailey and tradesmen getting ripped off.

Mum worried about us kids affording various things and mentioned our rellies, because she's Mum. Dad talked quietly and mentioned his RAF days, because he's Dad. My brother talked about things with an almost lawyerly precision and that he's planned how he'll spend next year's wages to the dollar, because he's my brother.

I had forgotten how fantastic family can be after you've been away for a while. Safe and familiar, in ways. It felt like spending all winter in the cold and then going swimming in summer and remembering how lovely it is to be in a cool pool on a hot day.

I'm painfully aware of the fact that most people don't find Father's Day - or family occasions in general - this great. I felt embarrassed and guilty about it for many years; partly because it's unusual, but mostly because our family got on when so many others didn't. It didn't seem fair and I didn't want to flaunt it. I still feel guilty, sometimes.

Back at the flat, I was mending clothes in the lounge and got chatting to a few of my flatmates. It ended up being one of those times when you say things you wouldn't otherwise (in a good way) and become quite close. One of those sessions you hazily remember afterwards as being good, but you can't quite remember why, or what anyone actually said. I realised that here, a few hundred kilometres away from all of their home towns, we had developed a kind of family.

My group of friends are a family too, in a way. We've all been through quite a lot together and have our weird but familiar dynamics. We've become close and we're at ease with each other.

I'm extremely lucky to be a part of all three families. It's been a good day for remembering.

today's prayer: if x then y?

2008-08-31T22:06:00.003+12:00

god of russian icons and pentecostal worship leaders
god of brethren restraint and baptist fervour
god of anglican spectrum and presbyterian stricture
god of worldly westerners and hidden hermits
god of catholic tastes and mystic senses

if
you can be all of the gods envisioned by your followers
all of the images and concepts conjured by your congregations
at the same time
and yet not be limited to our perceptions of deity

then
surely you can accommodate one more?

Even if I was a scriptwriter...

2008-08-28T18:46:00.003+12:00

... or a novelist who created characters on a regular basis
... and was really good at getting the nuances of people just right

I still wouldn't be able to come up with anyone quite like my flatmates. You guys tickle me pink (and occasionally annoy the hell out of me) and bring out the Elizabeth Bennett in me. *Shakes head in a happy, slightly bemused manner* Nothing beats the quirks and complicated motivations of real people. And learning about people never really ends. Good times :)

Chocolate and Cthulhu

2008-08-25T18:03:00.002+12:00

Dark Chocolate Fudge

Dark! All-encompassing, eternal darkness! Human eyes cannot penetrate the stygian blackness of this unholy confection!

A parody of H P Lovecraft's writing, if he had worked as a writer for a chocolate company. Beats Cadbury's writers hands down any day (seriously. If you haven't already, go read the back of the packet for Jamaican Old Gold. It will make your eyes twitch).

I am not Spock: a pick-a-path post

2008-08-24T17:04:00.005+12:00

I am a human, and by default humans are complex. The things that make our personhood are often indefinable; they shift and grow with time. Our identities are mixed because the way we see ourselves often conflicts with how others see us. Sometimes it can feel like we're two different people: what we see and think of as our Self, and the Self that others see.

This identity can become engulfed and changed by others. At times that's good and leads to positive change and growth as we discover other sides to ourselves. But it can also be restrictive and destructive; blocking people so they are viewed in a certain way and feel unable to behave or be any other way. We become Spock. This is not new, nor is it uncommon.

There are two ways I can go at this point:

I can make a structured, logical argument giving facts, opinions, evidence. A distanced essay of personality. If you would like that, please read these two articles, which will do the job nicely:

An article about creating a Myers-Briggs based society
A blog post about personality typing

Or I can make it a bit more personal, write subjectively and emotively, describing myself and my thoughts. If you would like that, read on. This is how things stand for me:

I am not my flatmates. I am not my friends. I am not my family, my church, my job, my study. I am most certainly, adamantly not my Myers-Briggs type. Perhaps of all the things I am most vehemently not, it is that.

When you see me, I want you to see me. Not what a relatively arbitrary and occasionally accurate list of values says I should be. Use your eyes and observe; look and see what's there instead of what you assume will be there. Talk to me, listen to me - I have some fascinating bents of mind. I can even be articulate if you stick around long enough. I blur lines. Yes, I am emotive, intuitive and subjective. But I am also logical, objective and practical in different situations. I do both equally well; I am a both and. Most people are.

It's not because I defy all classification - I fit relatively well into a Myers-Briggs category, as most of you know. But just because aspects of my personality overlap with a category does not mean I am that category. The whole thing about being human - and a complex being - is that we don't always fit.

It's not that I think labels are horrific things. There are certain categories that I will accept because they are fluid and often help explain who I am to people in a compact, rapid way. Geek. Female. Introvert. Pakeha. Heretic. But these are things I can move beyond, discard, shuffle if need be. To use a rather Catholic/mystic concept, as well as the things I am (e.g introvert), I am also my shadow (e.g extrovert). I'm learning my shadow and becoming OK with it.

It's not that I think personality tests are rubbish. I enjoy them immensely and was in raptures when I did Personality Psyc at uni. But as I see it, they're more guidelines than actual rules. Perhaps I am the only one who thinks this?

The more people I get to know, and the better I know those people, the more I have realised all such boxes and distinctions eventually become redundant. Each person has endless facets and things to learn and admire (or get pissed off about). I am awed by how weird and complex and fantastic and exciting people are. I love getting to know people (in my head I call it learning a person, if that makes sense) just because it's a such a... I don't know, a privilege? A lifetime's investment. I love it anyway. I value people for that, as well as many other reasons.

So I think there's a time and a place for analysing people, and then there's a time when that's no longer useful. There's also a line between just trying to figure someone out and squarely plonking them inside a box to the point where they feel unable to leave it.

Recently I have felt the walls of that box very strongly. It makes me feel devalued and pastiched; as if I am not good enough to bother getting to know properly. I'm not a vague outline and I'd like to be appreciated for the details that make me. I'm worth the effort of that. At the end of the day, we all are.

So please don't pigeon hole me and expect me to behave to type just because "all ISFJs do that" or "one of the things people like you do is..." . Because another thing I am not is your perception of me.

Tragedy and comedy

2008-08-21T16:37:00.002+12:00

I hope I never end up like the editor in this piece, but on the other hand, it's a beautifully constructed piece that makes something tragic very funny (and also makes me cringe).

The Proofreader

Yes, it's another McSweeney's. Is there any form of awesomeness that site doesn't cover?

Librarians and... curses?

2008-08-11T18:02:00.005+12:00

Librarians used to be perceived as fire-breathing dragons who'd slaughter you if you spoke too loud and give you withering stares if you asked questions. Now they're more likely to be friendly, enormously knowledgeable, and remind you slightly of your mum. Still, being someone who gets on with other bibliophiles, I've always wondered where that stereotype came from. Was it librarians in particular that inspired fear and loathing, or just authority figures in general?

Well, according to Lionel Casson's Libraries in the Ancient World, librarians have a venerable tradition of angrily cursing their patrons. One blogger mentions an ancient Egyptian librarian whose curse was so potent it got "the mummy to rise from its sarcophagus to reclaim overdue library materials." Now that's a reclamation service that might be handy.

An article in the Press a few months ago quoted an Assyrian librarian who cursed his patrons with this diatribe:

"He who breaks this tablet or puts it in water or rubs it until you cannot recognise it and cannot make it understood, may Ashur, Sin, Shamash, Adad and Ishtar, Bel, Nergel, Ishar of Ninevah, Ishtar of Arbela, Ishtar of Bit Kidmurri, the gods of heaven and earth and the gods of Assyria, may all these curse him with a curse that cannot be relieved, terrible and merciless, as long as he lives, may they let his name, his seed, be carried off from the land, may they put his flesh in a dog's mouth!"

In isolation, such curses seem unwarranted and reactionary, but in the ancient world - and even up until the time when libraries became public institutions - many libraries and private collections were created using the 'slash and grab' technique. Roman nobles and prestigious citizens throughout the ages took great pride in hiring mercenaries to nick books from everyone else. Killing the rightful owner or librarian during the escapade was merely being thorough and ensuring your ownership wouldn't be contended. Small wonder that librarians became paranoid Gollems, hoarding their knowledge and shaking their fists ineffectually at offenders.

In the Middle Ages it became common practice for scribes to write curses and dire warnings in the manuscripts to prevent book theft. Amazingly, this deterrent didn't work. Neither did librarian's more sensible practice of chaining the books to the shelves, but they get points for actually putting some effort in. These prohibitive rhyming curses ranged from the vindictive:

"Thys boke is one
And God's curse another;
They that take the one
God geve them the other"

... to the blunt:
"He who steals this book
may he die the death
may he be frizzled in a pan"

...to the positively lyrical:
"This present book legible in scripture
Here in this place thus tacched with a cheyn
Purposed of entent for to endure
And here perpetuelli stylle to remeyne
Fro eyre to eyre wherfore appone peyn
Of cryst is curs of faders and of moderes
Non of hem hens atempt it to dereyne
Whille ani leef may goodeli hange with oder."

You get the point. I imagine they had much the same effect on thieves in the Middle Ages as neon "Book cutting is theft!!!" stickers do on modern biblioklepts: none whatsoever.

Perhaps the best curse is one that never really existed. It's been attributed to a librarian in the mythical San Pedro monastery in Barcelona during the Middle Ages but was probably created relatively recently.

"For him that stealeth a Book from this Library, let it change into a serpent in his hand and rend him. Let him be struck with Palsy, and all his Members blasted. Let him languish in Pain crying aloud for Mercy and let there be no sur-cease to his Agony till he sink in Dissolution. Let Bookworms gnaw his Entrails in token of the Worm that dieth not, and when at last he goeth to his final Punishment, let the flames of Hell consume him forever."

But after the Renaissance men became rational, and librarians no longer used appeals to vengeful to deities as a method of getting books back. They got bitter and developed mistrusting, superior attitudes instead. The Old Librarian's Almanack is a 1909 parody that was 'written' in the 1770s. Among the librarian's attitudes are modern variants of the ancient curses, under the guise of advice to discriminate against borrowers as much as possible.

"...exercise great Discrimination as to which Persons shall be admitted to the use of the Library. For the Treasure House of Literature is no more to be thrown open to the ravages of the unreasoning Mob, than is a fair Garden to be laid unprotected at the Mercy of a Swarm of Beasts."

The writer goes on to explain exactly who should be excluded, "No person younger than 20 years (save if he be a Student, of more than 18 years, and vouched by his Tutor) is on any pretext to enter the Library. Be suspicious of Women... You will make no error in excluding them together."

Attitudes have since changed, and such practices were phased out long ago - if they ever existed at all. Modern librarian's curses are restricted to invectives muttered under their breath at idiotic, arrogant customers. Part of me hopes they're still as poisonous and creative as their predecessors.

Sources not already mentioned:

Littera Scripta
The Island of Lost Maps: A True Story of Cartographic Crime by Miles Harvey
www.cyberussr.com
Wikipedia

Tagging, but not in the "Project Legit" way

2008-08-11T16:47:00.004+12:00

Jenn from nothing flash! has tagged me about 6 unspectacular quirks, so here goes:

Link back to the person who tagged you
Mention the rules on your blog
Tell about 6 unspectacular quirks you have
Tag 6 fellow bloggers
Leave a comment for each tagged blogger, so they know they've been tagged.

I'm not going to do number 5 because I think most of them will spot this here.

I chose you, Pikachu:
Fraser, Kat, Kelly, Matt W, Chad, Nato.

My 6 quirks

I match my socks to my outfit (usually with the colour of my top). The rest of my outfit can be mis-matched, and the rest of my underwear can be random, but the socks have to be colour co-ordinated.
I am incredibly noise sensitive at night, especially when I'm trying to go to sleep. I tend to get really tense and start noticing things I normally wouldn't, especially if I'm worried about something (just ask my flatmates!).
I feel bad when I choose to wear ordinary earrings instead of my 'quirky' earrings (the ones made out of things like car fuses, zips, guitar picks and serial ports). For some reason I equate that with wussing out and being 'too normal'.
I'm a dabbler. At various times in my life I have done ballet, Girls Brigade and speech and drama; learnt piano, singing and sewing; tried writing; tried making cards and earrings; played netball and volleyball; volunteered as a helper at mass meals for the homeless; attempted to learn at least 7 languages (including Pitman's shorthand). There's been wildly varying levels of success. None have really stuck.
Blood, gore and war kind of fascinate me. I was the kid in the playground who always went "can I've a look?" when someone had grazed or cut themselves. I've never been grossed out by animal corpses on the road or needles, which makes me feel a wee bit guilty, since most girls are. I enjoy war movies (if there's decent characterisation and plot) and I've even gone to a museum exhibit on weaponry and war (which I thoroughly enjoyed, but don't tell James that).
I hog the TV remote. It's become one of those habits I'm slightly uncomfortable with, because it's meant to be a distinctly masculine thing. I'm fairly easy to convince when it comes to switching to programmes that other people watch.

At some point I will do Fraser's memoir title thing. I think that requires a little more thought though...

This one's for Mike

2008-08-11T16:39:00.002+12:00

Bulleted poems:
Desecration of the form?
Sure annoys purists.

Hello sleeplessness my old friend

2008-08-01T17:08:00.001+12:00

2008-08-01T16:06:00.001+12:00

What if God was one of us?

2008-07-29T16:32:00.002+12:00

He'd be an adrenalin junkie, according to Fishermen.com, who've created a bunch of Jesus action figures. He surfs, he skates, he scores! He even begs for food (while looking trendy).

Warning: the above link is a Flash site with pop ups. It might take a while to load.

Hat tip: Ship of Fools. Check out their recent (papal) indulgences.

Covering all the bases

2008-07-25T18:23:00.004+12:00

... just in case you didn't get the cue

he said / she said

2008-07-25T17:00:00.006+12:00

Act I
After the first band wraps up, he sits next to her on the floor.
She says "So you're the guy who's hosting the gig? You own these apartments?"
He says "You're one of the heretics? I recognise you from the Star Wars night last year."

She thinks
~ Heretic? Are we that notorious?
~ Last year? Wow, good memory.
~ Wait, what Star Wars night?

Pauses. And then

~ Oh. That Star Wars night.
~ The one where I was being a complete muppet; very loud, very silly.
~ And he remembers.
~ Oh.
~ God.

He thinks
~ She doesn't remember.
~ I think she's trying to be polite.

Act II
Later on, their friend walks past and says "Hey, have you two...?"
She says "Yeah, we've just met".
He says "Yeah, we had a moment. See you guys later, I'm off to have a shower".

She thinks
~ A moment, eh?
~ Odd turn of phrase; I must remember it.
~ I wonder if I can use it in a poem somewhere?
~ I can't believe he recognised me from a year ago.

He thinks
~ I'm going to have a shower.

Act III
She walks into his lounge in the adjacent apartment, looking for her coat.
She says: "You've got a great fire. It's really warm".
He says: "Yeah, it is. I really need it with these 9ft ceilings".

She thinks
~ I'm leaving. Now would be a good time to say something intelligent.
~ Considering the Star Wars thing, and everything.
~ Why do I always suck at small talk with guys?
~ Nice guys, especially?
~ Am I in my own head too much?

He thinks
~ This fire probably needs another log or two.

"I am your king!" "Well, I didn't vote for you"

2008-07-14T15:44:00.001+12:00

Ever wanted to work as part of the giant voting machine of doom on election day? Now you can!

They're taking applications now, and although they give preference to people who've worked during election day before, I think they'll look at pretty much any one who's literate and can count. If you can speak another language, even better. There's casual post-election work, too, so if you want a bit of spare cash it's a pretty sweet gig, as they say.

I worked post-election in '05 counting votes and checking no one had voted twice or while they were dead - it was heaps of fun. From memory the pay's $3 or $4 per hour above minimum. If you're a fancy salary worker that's not a lot, but for those of us who live on somewhat less it's a pair of shoes or a week's rent.

And honestly, jobs like this are almost more about the experience than the money. You wouldn't believe how many people are incapable of voting correctly despite crystal clear instructions, or how stressed out the organisers get (making Basil Fawlty look like Polyanna), or how many women list their jobs as 'home maker/housewife/stay-at-home mum'.

Here's the link: http://www.elections.org.nz/news/interested-in-working-on-the-election.html

Left Enraged: a rather subjective review

2008-07-13T18:27:00.004+12:00

Several months ago I was dared to read the original Left Behind book by Tim LaHaye and Jerry Jenkins. Having seen the movie years ago at youth group, I figured this was an easy challenge that couldn't be passed up.

I began with a hiss and a roar. I was sure my fundy background would inoculate me from the worst religious bits and my general love of reading would get me through the rest. I was also aware that sometimes a book is so badly written it becomes brilliant. This is not one of those books.

I found myself constantly becoming angry about things like the chauvinism of the male characters, 1D characterisation, sub-par dialogue and completely incomprehensible plot. I mentioned it to a mate, who explained that my anger was a clear sign I was taking the book too seriously. He suggested taking the whole thing as a massive joke; an approach I adopted. I also began reading Slacktavist's reviews of each section as I read it. It ended up being a little like taking an antidote after every hit of literary poison.

Finally, after a month of intermittent reading, I staunched my way to the last sentence. To say that the experience was painful is an understatement: it sapped my love of reading. Since reading is my strongest addiction (even chocolate must bow to the pleasure of literacy) that was quite a thing. It's not often I dread reading a book.

Now, I know the other half of the dare was to post the worst bits here. But, since the whole thing is the fabric of Mediocrity sewn with the thread of Awful on the sewing machine of Abysmal Excruciation, I shall pass the baton on to Slacktavist, who has written a blow-by-blow critique of the book. That man deserves a Guinness.

A Monty Python review of Australian wines introduced a Merlot with the phrase "this is not a wine for taking up and drinking: this is a wine for laying down and avoiding." From now on I'm going to extend that principle to anything written by these two guys.

Waiting for an email

2008-07-09T17:44:00.002+12:00

Still no word from the
Council; they don't want interns?
Or maybe just me?

Oh, if only the waiting part of networking was fun. And not as nerve-wracking and totally in the hands of the other person (or people, or company). I'm going to put the lack of response down to the fact that the company I am talking to is large and bureaucratic. Yup. And wait patiently for Sunday 20 July to roll around, since that is when I can drink alcohol again. I shall not glance at that lovely, unopened bottle of Merlot skulking in the shadows of my bookcase at all.

This morning I thought, "Oh, I can totally go another week and a half without drinking", but this evening my mind is fixated on a gingerbread-flavoured liquor I saw in Vom Fass while shopping with a friend last week. I wants it so much. Just a little, tiny nip to momentarily vanish the cold and wintry nights. I shall be strong - or at least stronger (than, say, last Thursday night).

Cyclists of the world, unite!

2008-07-06T17:55:00.003+12:00

A few weeks ago as I was heading out of Hagley Park on the way to work, a guy flagged me over and handed me a bright orange ticket. At first I was a little alarmed and wondered if I'd done something wrong, especially since the colour of the ticket was exactly the same as detention slips we used to have at high school. I figured there must have been 20 or 30 cyclists through the park already that morning, so what the heck was going on?

When I looked at the ticket later it had the logo of SPOKES, the Canterbury Cyclists Association on it. The copy read:

Have you ever fallen off your bike on the tram tracks? If so, please help us to record all known crashes, so we can lobby for the tram route to be made safer for cyclists.

www.spokes.org.nz/trams

Please pass this message onto other cyclists.

So guys, this is your chance to say how you really feel about those quaint, picturesque yet entirely useless tracks (because seriously, how many locals can afford to ride the tram?).

Sounds with stories

2008-06-26T16:06:00.004+12:00

I don't have a concrete list of my all-time favourite albums, but certain albums have stories and associations that are evoked every time I play them. They bring back vivid events, moods or phases I went through. Sometimes they remind me of a specific place or season. They're the audio equivalent of my old school tie, the taste of Scrumpy, my childhood soft toys and the visual epiphany that is the BBC version of Pride and Prejudice. Here's one to kick things off:

1. Arcade Fire's Funeral

I discovered Arcade Fire when I needed to research a CD cover for my first Design assignment last year. I decided to go with the unbiased approach and asked my flatmate to list his music alphabetically until we got to a band I'd never heard of. (Did I mention he's super Indie?) I figured the obscurity would help with my design-cred (if there is such a thing).

In the interests of research and context, I decided to give it a quick spin - and after a moment or two of acclimatisation spent the next three weeks listening to it constantly. I listened to it walking to and from work. I listened to it while I studied, wrote, read and relaxed. I even listened to it as I went to sleep for the first week.

Addiction is such a crass word; I was mainlining an aural explosion. To my exceedingly mainstream ears, it sounded like a more frantic, off-kilter Franz Ferdinand and Win Butler's voice reminded me a bit of The Killers; but mostly, it was like being casually handed an entirely novel sound experience. I fell in love with Arcade Fire and graphic design simultaneously, at a time when I was trying to figure out if I was studying the right thing and discovering ever-weirder, wider music and ideas. My lecturer gave me a B+ and commented that it was one of his all time favourite albums. Happy times.

Again with the hoping my relatives don't read this thing

2008-06-25T20:27:00.005+12:00

So, my dad's turning 70 soon (yeah, I know: he's so Sean Connery you'd never guess) and I've been asked to come up with the invites. Since he's spent nearly 55 of those years mucking about with planes, we decided to go with an aviation theme.

I've shamelessly filched ideas from this Air Canada pass to produce the mighty Evans Air ticket. (I envisage our slogan might be something like "We don't just fly; we reverse engineer". Clearly our airline would go the extra airmile to deliver a comprehensive aviation service.) And also because I really, really wanted to have a bilingual ticket for the "oh this is so cool" effect.

Bill Bailey Tinselworm Tour

2008-06-24T20:40:00.002+12:00

He's coming to Christchurch! Anyone else keen to go? The details are:

8pm on Wednesday Sep 3 (yeah, it's a work night)
Town Hall
$80 per ticket

Despite the expense, I am pretty much 85% decided on going, but don't really want to be at a comedy gig on my own. (Also there's like 3.5 months to save up.) Go on. You know you want to. You'll kick yourself if you don't. Or maybe end up spending the rest of the year huddling in a corner with your regret, keeping yourself warm via the tea and coffee making facilities.

"You grow up, you work half a century, you get a golden handshake, you rest a couple of years and you’re dead"

2008-06-24T20:25:00.005+12:00

Ah, David Brent and The Office. Those of us who work in offices (and sadly, we are legion) may sometimes feel like we're in an episode. But fear not! For totally inappropriate office stationery is here!

Behold: alternative stamps.

The cool side of steampunk

2008-06-24T20:18:00.002+12:00

*Drool* Now all I need is some varnish-type stuff and bajillions of stamps.

and yes i am a bit

2008-06-21T01:07:00.003+12:00

i feel strangely proud now i have found my label
as if a rite of passage has been attained
not emotional or touchy-feely or quiet or entertaining
i am the talkative one when

so by way of explanation i say
(in my head because it would be crass to say to the driver)

Just one
not hordes
falling from the sky
as in the song covered by Geri

Just one who really sees me
(and so few do)
and loves me
and i can love in return
is that really so much to ask?
i would be content with that

i know i am not the girl guys fall for
those are my friends
the hot ones, the confident caring hippies

but one would be fine
with dark, curly-ish hair
and perhaps a predilection for
*smile curls up* yes

i am so angry at myself for being nothing more than
my observable actions
there is so much in my head of worth that never sees day

and yes I am a bit
drunkdrunkdrunk

listening to Norwegian? Danish? reggae soul electronica while sobering up
wine/margarita/wickedly spiked punch-coat keeps me warm
mmm

feeling gloriously half blind in a bleary fashion
indistinct and smiley
the world is
with cosy edges and
laid back in a sloshy, Captain Jack Sparrow way
i don't giggle as much as the others but then
i am the introvert
and have no man to go home to and ****

i feel i am letting the side down by not
being married extroverted creative
but your eye make-up is amazing for a brief moment of detail
architecture in pliant, soft structured miniature

she says 'hey?' as a tag and sounds more Zim as she talks of home
i have noticed this often about exiled accents and their speakers

gosh that episode of Black Books went fast
it was 5 minutes if it was anything
i am laughing too loud; trespassing on your far too generous hospitality

i love the fact i did not have to drive tonight
and the driver is amicable if not a little perplexed by our antics
(ah, but he is the good sort and tolerant of girls in our state by now, surely?)
because i

so then
just one, eh?
surely i don't need bible college to achieve that...

have i said too much?

sorry
i know you thought i was the dependable chaste sensible one
even puritans need an outlet
shame that i need alcohol to relax and be
the confident me i wish i was
even if it lets you down
and the cold inhibits all sorts

i will delete this tomorrow
in embarrassment
(mostly because this is far too long but has kept me absorbed)
do not hit 'publish' when you are drunk
even if it seems artistic and avant-garde at the time
(here come the shivers)
you know no one will read it unless they are equally
pissed

just on(c)e

Clever design

2008-06-07T16:38:00.007+12:00

Instead of buying myself an Easter egg this year I made do with a giant tube of Toblerone. Tough, I know, but those are the sacrifices I'm willing to make.

At first I thought they had changed their packaging for the season, in a similar way to the Google logo. It's a simple yet effective and clever way of indicating the festival without changing their distinctive colour, logo, typeface and triangular packaging:

Then I discovered it slid off to reveal their normal packaging:

The two logos overlap exactly, like the dust jacket on a book (although that's not entirely obvious in these photos). Nicely done, Toblerone's advertisers.

"Drink!"

2008-06-05T22:22:00.003+12:00

Note: the title of this post must be read with a Father Jack/Dylan Moran-like voice. That is to say: drunk, loud, Irish, and irascible. But in an inexplicably attractive way, because really, is it possible for Irish accents to not be hot? I think we all know the answer to that one.

Last Friday night a group of us got together for an impromptu cocktail making thingy, which became rapidly more genial and enjoyable as the evening went on. Or maybe that's just the absinthe talking.

Wistful memories of obscure liquors aside, one of the engineers - who spent the evening sitting happily in corners fiddling with liquid layers and different densities - came up with a couple of brilliant new cocktails. The resident social worker-in-training also designed a few; we blame the years of waitressing for that one ;) Personally I think they're geniuses; it's difficult to get a good mix of liquors at the best of times, but we had a bizarre and not very useful selection of liquors.

And so, without further ado, I present the ones that rocked below. Just a few things:

Read the ingredient list closely before replicating - some ingredients may be difficult to procure. Apart from Salmari, you can pretty much fake it with alternatives.
All ingredients should be added in the order they're mentioned here.
I'm clearly using highly technical and specific terms of measurement. They're more like guidelines than actual rules.

The Ronayne Redeye (a Mike creation)
3/4 shot of Vodka
Snifter of Kahlua
Drop of milk
A splash of Raspberry cordial

The Horny Deer (a Mike creation)
1/6 of Agavero
Snifter of Salmari
1/4 of light Rum
1/4 of Triple Sec
A splash of Raspberry cordial

This should end up looking like black velvet that blurs into a red tinge at the bottom of the glass.

Alternative Sunrise (a Mike creation)
1/4 of Peach liquor
2/3 of Orange juice
A splash of Cranberry juice
A splash of Raspberry cordial

Serving suggestion: For a non-alcoholic version, just forget to the add the Peach liquor. It tastes pretty much the same (awesomely tasty).

The Poached Egg (a Ray creation; may be renamed)
1/4 of Vodka
3/4 of Lemonade
A dash of Lemon syrup
A dribble of Orange juice (mainly for colour)

The (nearly) finished product

2008-05-29T21:46:00.003+12:00

For those who like to know the medium used and suchlike, I used ink and acrylic on canvas. This looks so much cooler in real life (or maybe I just want it to). The words are a little more anatomically correct in this version, too:

Fuselage
Wing (tip)
Cockpit
Tail (fin)
Rudder
Elevator

And now for the detail shot:

The reason for the unfinished status is that I am considering adding a little detail to the black border. This may be a bad thing - knowing when to stop is a handy skill. So, my rabid readers, what should I add?

a) white squares to make it look like a film strip
b) white lines/markings to make it look like a runway/landing strip
c) nothing, because simple is good and too much visual noise will kill it

I hope my brother doesn't read my blog...

2008-05-22T20:07:00.006+12:00

...Because this is a draft of his belated birthday present:

I'm not very good at getting clear, appropriately zoomed photos, but you get the idea. He requested that if I did a painting or drawing it should:
a) involve a jet in some way
b) be the type of thing that he can sell for millions when I'm *cough* famous.

Anyone who's played Pictionary knows I'm not good at drawing. In the past I have been known to make a country gate look somewhat like a bowler hat. But I've been playing with the idea of text pictures, and this is the result.

The text is: fuselage, cockpit, wing (x2), tail, light. (Yes, that is a tail light on the top right corner of the tail). Now that I look at it, the tail wing thing needs to go and the main wing needs to be at a completely different angle. It is quite difficult to get depth, perspective and dimension right with letters. Meh. I have until Saturday night to tinker with this.

French music and WoW. Surrendering of some kind may occur in this post.

2008-05-16T15:11:00.003+12:00

Emily Loizeau is a French singer I've been listening to recently via radioblogclub.com (I heart the internet so much). This video of hers:
a) is majestic.
b) has translated subtitles so you can catch her genius in two languages.

She rocks. If I could afford the ridiculous price Real Groovy asks to import her album, (over 1/5 of my weekly wage, the bastards) I would buy it. Her website is also in French, but her Myspace page is bilingual.

While I am shamelessly promoting things/people I like, I might as well admit I have developed a small addiction. That's right, I've discovered World of Warcraft. Or, more accurately, The Guild, a comedy serial about a fictional WoW guild. It's exceptionally well done - the dialogue alone is worth it. At 5-8 minutes each, the episodes are just the right length to watch without feeling like you're racking up a huge internet bill. The episodes are on Youtube, too. If you're a geek, you'll enjoy it and find it amusing. If you know geeks, you'll enjoy it and find it floor-rollingly hilarious.

Source: Andrea

Dribs and drabs

2008-05-08T22:36:00.003+12:00

The Hunters
There were but two beneath the sky -
The thing I came to kill, and I.
I, under cover, quietly
Watched him sense Eternity.
From quivering brush to pointed nose
My gun to shoulder level rose
And then I felt (I could not see)
Far off a hunter watching me.
I slowly put my rifle by,
For there were two who had to die -
The thing I wished to kill, and I.
- Native American

This is from A Book of Uncommon Prayer by Theo Dorgan, which I've been reading recently. He's an agnostic who's collected an anthology of prayers - to who/whatever, by who/whatever. It includes some Christian (a lot of variations on that theme), some Hindu, some atheist, some Muslim, some Native American and everything in between. I'm finding it a bit like R S Thomas' stuff, but in a slightly broader way. It's the kind of book that satiates thirst and creates thirst at the same time. Quite beautiful. If you're looking for an alternative take on prayer or poetry or spirituality, this is a good place to look (and you can get it from the library). It's going on my list of Books to Buy When I Have Money.

How to give your workmate a send-off: Part two

2008-05-06T21:51:00.016+12:00

Your mission, should you choose to inflict it...
is made up of three main tasks. The final task is optional (and totally dependant on whether the workmate would find it funny). It's up to you how to divide the tasks amongst the people involved.

Task One: Setting the scene

Spread the shredded paper and confetti over the workmate's desk and computer.
Wind the toilet paper around the chair.

This could look a little something like:

Task Two: Adding the extras

Steal the workmate's stapler, stapler remover, holepunch and scissors.
Take them home (it's going to take a bit of effort).
Set the stapler in jelly, using a container with really good seals. There are plenty of videos and instructions around the interwebs to help you out. You'll need to do it like this:

So that it ends up looking like this:

Do the same thing for the holepunch, scissors and other office equipment, but use water instead of jelly. You'll end up with blocks like the ones below:

Serving variation:
To add to the excitement, try hiding the blocks of water and office equipment under the paper. It'll make the whole escapade last just that little bit longer. Imagine your workmate's surprise at finding this when they think they've cleared the mess up:

Task Three: Taking it to another level

Make sure your workmate is the kind of person who can handle this.
Wait until they've gone out for a smoke / on break.
Move the entire contents of their office or desk into one of the toilets, like so:

If they're a really good sport, they'll even pose for a photo to show that it's a totally functional office space:

Cheers, M. We'll miss ya :)

How to give your workmate a send-off

2008-05-06T21:51:00.003+12:00

Part One: What you'll need to succeed

People:

The CEO's PA. Preferably when she's feeling kind of cheeky.
The girls on the Finance team. They're always cheeky.
The officemate who's always wanted to try replicating a prank from The Office.

Ingredients:

Generic office equipment like shredded paper, confetti from holepunches, unused toilet paper and sellotape.
Tupperware containers or ice cream containers.
Jelly, 4-6 packets. Mix the flavours and colours up for fun.
Water. You'll need enough to fill the containers.
The workmate's holepunch, stapler, staple remover and scissors.

Advantages:

The workmate being out of town or working off-site for a few days.
The workmate starting work a bit later than the people involved.
The tacit approval and conspiracy of the workmate's team.

Ah, metaphor you beauty

2008-05-06T21:30:00.002+12:00

"...The popular and domesticated Jesus, who has become little more than a chrome-plated hood ornament on the guzzling Hummer of Western civilization, can thus be replaced with a more radical, saving, and, I believe, real Jesus."

- Brian McLaren in Everything must change: Jesus, Global crises and a Revolution of hope.

The way forward, is apparently, the way back

2008-04-27T14:36:00.003+12:00

Last week I went to a public lecture on the emergent church, mysticism and New Monastocism. The speaker, Ray Simpson, is a guy who heads a Celtic/Anglo-Catholic/Emergent community/monastery thing. Yeah, so labels just don't work so well these days, do they? (I will eventually post his lecture here, once my mp3 player has decided it will play nicely with the computer.)

One of the things that interested me was that mysticism is making a bit of come back - people want to explore spirituality, but often conventional Christianity doesn't cater for it. What a lot of people are now doing, it seems, is looking to the previously sidelined parts of Christianity (mainly the ones that have focused on spirituality, like Celtic Christianity or Orthodox mysticism) for advice on where to go.

The next thing that excited me was that people are looking at how things are done and going, "Yes, that's a nice idea if you're Russian/rural/Anglican/Western. But we're Aboriginal/urban/emergent/not Western. So we're going to use that principal and adapt it to come up with stuff that makes sense in our local area and meld it to our people's ways."

He mentioned an Aussie group as an example of this. They weren't Christian per se, but they were following the Iona model (whatever that is). He was fairly familiar with Iona's liturgy, being from a similar Holy-Island community, so he went along expecting just that. Turns out they'd written their own stuff, so that it made sense for Australians, and not a single bit of it was from the original liturgy. He finished that section off by saying there was a need for people to write stuff for their local area (yes, despite the fact that I'm training to become a completely different kind of writer, that excited me lots).

Which leads me nicely to one of New Zealand's own liturgical writers / psalmists: Joy Cowley. Because you knew there was no way I was going to bring this up and then not do this:

Friend
Good on you, Friend,
for being a presence of Christ to me.
You came when I needed You.
I didn't have to ask.
You didn't have to say.
You just turned up out of the blue,
carrying no luggage,
both hands free to carry mine,
and somehow, you made it look
as though I was doing you a favour
by letting you be there.

It beats me how you knew
what a burden I was bearing.
You know, I can't believe
that I talked so much
or that you could be so attentive
for such a long time.
But I do know that when I left you,
the sun was shining,
a bird was singing
and there was a beautiful day
waiting to be used.

So good on you, friend, for being there,
and letting me tell my story,
and for giving to me three ways,
as a friend,
as a teacher of what friendship
is all about,
and as a channel of something
that I call holiness.

One day when I have kids...

2008-04-18T18:22:00.000+12:00

I will destroy their sensitive wee earholes with this:

Mone Me

2008-03-30T23:24:00.002+13:00

Latin: "Advise me"

I am in a weird space right now, and have a lot of stuff ticking through my mind, that, for some reason, is causing me to feel pretty emotional and messed up. Most of this stuff has been circling for years; I just haven't had time to deal with it. Part of the messed-up-ness is a lack of an appropriate avenue or vent for off-loading.

I have come to the realisation that I am some one who needs accountability/confession and support like we had in Heresy: not as an occasional activity, but because it's something that's necessary for me to function well as a human being. I function best at that level; it's also one of the times when I feel most alive and like I am me and meant to be here (weird and twisted as that sounds).

Many of my friends who are usually my first port of call are going through difficult or emotionally intense situations themselves, and I have no desire to make their loads heavier.

This sort of thing happens often enough that I have thought I need to find someone I can call and chat with when these occasions arise, or even just text them and ask them to pray for me. A sort of lifeline, if you will. The theory is that everyone needs at least one person they can call up at 3 in the morning and say, "I'm about to do something stupid. Talk me out of it". (Which is not, by the way, where I am at tonight). It's something that has weighed very heavily on my mind for a long time, especially last year when things fell apart. I often felt utterly bereft and unable to cope. I don't think it's wise for that to be how I 'deal' with things in future; my freak-outs and failures are messy enough as it is.

One idea I've been thinking about is finding a mentor. I've got no idea if this is the right thing to do, and I have no idea how to find one. I suspect it will include being outgoing and pro-active and speaking to people at Ilam or something, but I'm not 100% sure who to talk to etc. I probably need to talk to some one initially to see if this is a good direction - is that what pastors are for?? I feel like such a freak for even thinking I need to rely on other people and admitting there are times when I don't cope with life - especially when a lot of the people I know cope with hard-out stuff so well.

So, mone me. Advise me, please.