Three things I did Last Year (of no particular importance)

1. Learnt to play the Ukulele

This is much, much easier than playing the guitar. And more portable. For the amateur musician (one who likes singing along more than actually caring about how the instrument sounds) I'd thoroughly recommend it. It's also really cheap and easy to self-learn. Not to mention how hip it is.

2. Used up a Loyalty Card

Traditionally I lose or don't use my loyalty cards. This year I actually bought ten books at Unity, so got a free one! I have entered a book buying phase - as an English teacher, I think it's appropriate. I also ordered my first books off Amazon last week.

3. Started Buying Fish

I have never really bought fresh fish from the supermarket. I started doing it every now and then this year. It's good. I like to cook it the way my dad did (when he had to take over cooking duties in my late teen years) - put a piece in tin foil, with tomatoe and onion slices and butter, pop in oven for 15 minutes or so.

* * *

I like that I will have eaten dinner away from home 4 of the last 7 nights.

* * *

Self Assurance

I'm trying to define that almost intangible quality that separates people I want to be friends with from people who annoy me.

I think self-assurance is attractive in friends. In most people, really. Especially if you can achieve it without having ego issues.

Maybe I'm straying into what I like in a colleague there - it peeves me when other teachers let their ego get in the way of kids' learning. Some teachers get really offended when a kid in their class seeks advice from a different teacher, or if someone else uses their resource without giving them credit. There aren't many reasons to really protest situations like those, other than 'it hurt my ego' and that's a selfish attitude for a teacher to have.

My attitude here is contenscious and it's actually senior staff at our school who I most often see these traits in.... Maybe one day I'll be more like that - I may still be naive about some things. Maybe it's a carry-over from the days of the bell-curve and Sixth Form Certificate, when you were actually competing with your colleagues for a finite set of grades.

I think in the NCEA era that this attitude is outdated.

Anyhow, it comes into friendship too. I like people who can handle a debate without taking it personally. For example, they're not going to take it as a personal attack if I say that they're right-wing scum for liking Act. It can also come into sports (and most of my friends play or have played sports... actually maybe in NZ that's not an unusual thing).

I think even playing a team sport takes a certain level of self-assurance, but you don't want to let any given performance define who you are or how you think people see you. Maybe self-assured people can have a crap game, and admit that without expecting sympathy.

I think what I'm thinking of here is a more complex set of traits and I've over-simplified it. I guess pride is a factor in there - what is the relationship between pride and self-assurance?

Actually, given my own definition I might not even want to be friends with myself. My self assurance disappears in sitations like dancing, or if I'm playing in a higher basketball grade.

Maybe I should limit that to self-assurance in at least some aspects of life, particularly intellectual areas. Most of my friends are smart in that way, and they know it. I've had friends who don't want to come to pub quizzes because they're self-conscious about not knowing enough, but the vast majority of my friends love such things.

And maybe those who come anyhow are self-assured enough to know that trivia-knowledge isn't really that important, and so there's no shame in being bad at it. But then, maybe competitive spirit comes into it too - some people just don't get a buzz out of that environment, but will happily have animated chats about random facts over coffee.

That's rather a ramble.

The wind never stops.

I'm excited about the Japanese takeaway shop that's opened down in the village. Most H'town eateries are closed this time of year (including both the cafes) - it's a ghost town.

Read another book - this one won a Pullitzer Prize, but I didn't love it. I found the end kinda unsatisfying, though the middle was good. That's two and a bit books so far these holidays - not bad. I have a few more to go.

I'm ok with people calling this decade 'twenty-ten'.

I went for a walk up Mt Vic yesterday and my lack of fitness was evident.

The new plan for New Years is dinner at Hatai-Thai. It's BYO! And I live around the corner, so cocktails there afterwards-slash-before. And maybe some board or card games. It may just be me, Cass, Nicky and Cass's brother. Anyone else is welcome to join us.

The camping thing didn't work out. I hadn't really made much effort into getting equipment, I hadn't found a friend t0 go up with me (my friends are non-camping types) and then I found out my favourite relatives aren't even going.... The appeal dwindled. I'd also forgotten there was a family wedding on January 8th.... A lot of family time!

* * *

And let me remind people about the fun, free events on in Wellington this week.

There is the uni-cycling world champs! I'm keen to go to something that's on at TSB Arena one night - that's where the artistic competitions are. I wanna see tricks! [I can't vouch that this is free - no mention of costs on any of the programmes.]
And the City Gallery is free every second Wednesday for anyone who hasn't seen the dots exhibition yet, or wants to see it again. That falls on December 30th, so free this Wednesday!

My four year old niece is charming. As soon as I arrived at their house on Christmas Eve she grabbed me by the hand and started showing me her best things.

I watched her jump off the couch many different ways, exclaiming how clever she was each time. I helped her brush her teeth and watched a bit of an Ariel cartoon with her in bed.

I slept on the couch in the room with the presents. So at about 6.30am I started seeing the bigger kids peering in through the door. They whispered about Santa's handwriting, and the older kid said to her brother, 'Look at it next to the others - you don't think they're the same?' and her brother earnestly said, 'No.' Cute. Their mum reckons they're at the age where they don't actually believe anymore, but they don't want to admit it.

The little one opened all her toys and said, 'Just what I wanted!' to each one. I like that she was the most excited by the giant lollypop she got, which her mum had told me the night before was the one thing she had really asked for. I then spent ages getting new dolls out of their packaging - it's not easy!

Then other bits of the family arrived. And the eating began.

My brother liked his giant box of beef jerky (24 packs). I knew he would. I quietly agreed to buy the Whitcoull's voucher someone gave him off him (last time he bought something at a book-shop is when he used to read GI Joe comics at primary school).

I have a nice family. Everyone had a good time and nobody complained. The kids all played together well (though the two 4 year old cousins somehow got into a bunch of paints in the shed and came out red-handed, with splatters and smears all over their new clothes - from what their parents said to them afterwards, I'm guessing at that age the concept of only painting on paper is still in need of reinforcing).

* * *

Boxing day, I casually decided to go to the sales out at Lyall Bay. I was just noting to myself that the streets were eerily empty on the way out there, right up until I was half-way down the road from the complex... when I saw car carnage.

There were queues of cars waiting to just drive into the parking lot... after circling the lot three times unsuccessfully and being on the verge of either an anxiety attack (because I was almost trapped in the grid-lock) or road-rage, I figured a wee walk in the ocean air was less stressful than getting carpark-rage.

I got some grown-up things - two new sets of sheets (Egyptian cotton high thread count, of course), a new ironing board (mine had had a lump in the middle of it since I took it home from the shop in the bus) and a lint brush. Lint brushes are amazing! I can't believe I've never had one before. My life has now changed forever - I can't believe what a lint covered slob I have been all this time. The shame.

I spent the afternoon watching stuff I'd taped on My-Sky (we just got it last week - so the novelty of it has not worn off) and giving myself a foot-spa (a present from last Christmas that I figured I should give a go finally). I now understand why they include the fluffy white slippers in the pack - it is exactly what your feet feel like wearing after they're pampered.

My secret pleasure at the moment is watching 'Shear Genius', a reality show where hairdressers get pitted against each other in weird challenges. In today's episode they firstly had to do the Meg-Ryan-shag on a mannequin's head, then they had to use house-hold items to cut hair (one lady had a massive set of hedge-clippers, but actually did a decent job).

Merry Christmas.

Oriental Bay on a slightly blustery Christmas Eve Afternoon, where everything is a relative ghost-town as people either head off around the country or fear the fictitious Christmas-Eve-crush in the city.

I have a post-chocolate-feasting head-ache. Detox time!

Christmas Eve Eve Eve

1. A Serious Film

I was Rich's movie-buddy for the week and we took in 'A Serious Man' by the Coen Brothers. I'd read reviews that warned me about it, so wasn't shocked by its bleakness. It was.... odd. Interesting. And.... very bleak.

As we were leaving, still trying to decipher what the ending meant (it cuts off at a really odd place) Richard did ask me, 'Is there anyone you recommend that to?' and I drew a blank. Perhaps I am underestimating the oddness of my friends and their tastes, but it's certainly not likely to be a main-stream success. Don't go to it based on liking 'No Country for Old Men' or 'The Big Lebowski' or 'O Brother Where Art Thou'. It's a different kettle of fish.

I do like the Coen Brothers. As with their others, this film is well made and clever. And in the book I'm reading (mentioned in previous post) it talks about how a lot of artists say they like to play around with the white space, or silence, in their work.... and that is what the Coen Brothers like to do. There are lots of bits with long, awkward silences where all you can hear is someone stirring their tea or the sound of a machine sucking the fluid out of the uncle's cyst [a detail entirely fitting the tone of the movie, but one I could have done without].

It's certainly a film worthy of discussion and study, more-so than 'Avatar'. One to ponder. Much like a movie like 'Citizen Kane' is a worthy film, though not necessarily easy to watch. I'm not saying it's in that category of film, just that it had lots of unexplained bits you could discuss. Whereas a rom-com might be more enjoyable and easy to watch, but you really don't have a lot of points to ponder afterwards. I have faith that the things I don't quite understand about the film (like, what was the whole prologue about and how was it relevant to the story? and was the Jefferson Airplane song more significant than I realised?) were carefully done and if I listened to a director's commentary on it I would be impressed by the cleverness of it all.

I liked the main character - he certainly was a serious man. Very likable - he took life's knocks with a certain grace, though you'd want to shake him into action at times. For me, that made the film more enjoyable than something like 'The Reader' where I didn't like any of the characters.

And there was some dark humour in there - funny moments. Actually, the whole thing was kinda funny - not in a LOL way, but in a HEH kinda way. All the situations were dealt with in a humorous way - the humour of awkwardness. The tone was very Coen-ish throughout in that regard.

I'd say it was the Coen Brothers being a bit self-indulgent (I've read this is the most autobiographical film they've done). It's a quality film, but it has a very unresolved narrative.

Certainly not everyone's cup of tea, but I'm glad I saw it.

2. On Demand

I've been trolling the TVNZ site for shows and clips to watch. I found this one about 'Larping' and watched it, since I think I know lots of people that do it.... was hoping I'd recognise more people in it!

3. Waterfront Pictures

I am reading a book. A book about music and the brain. And psychology and neuro-science stuff. It's called "This is Your Brain on Music".

So far I have read the introduction and I like these two bits:

"Whenever humans come together for any reason, music is there: weddings, funerals, graduation from college, men marching off to war, stadium sporting events, a night on the town, prayers, a romantic dinner, mothers rocking infants to sleep, and college students studying with music as a background. Even more so in nonindustrialised cultures than in modern Western societies, music is and was part of the fabric of everyday life. Only relatively recently in our own culture, five hundred years or so ago, did a distinction arise that cut society in two, forming separate classes of music performers and music listeners. Throughout most of the world and for most of human history, music making was as natural an activity as breathing and walking, and everyone participated. Concert halls, dedicated to the performance of music, arose only in the last several centuries."

"Why do people seem to get stuck in their musical tastes as they grow older and cease experimenting with new music?"

* * *

Lots of things the author is bringing up are things I've had moments of wondering about.

Just last night I was talking to Billy, and he was describing how sometimes at the Welsh Dragon bar (which has a lot of Brits and travellers) lots of people turn up and sing songs together. Songs that he has never heard before, but which most people at the bar seem to join in for, a Capella. It's something that's missing in modern kiwi culture.

And I've been noticing for years that I hardly ever 'discover' new bands that I like. I've forgotten how to do it.... or I just don't like anything new.... or my brain is full up with things I already like. Not sure.

For many a year, up until I was at university, my dad was pretty 'hip' with the music and liked new artists that were coming out, like Ben Harper and Bjork. But now he's quite content with his old stuff and makes funny faces if I play him something new. Ever since he evolved to liking jazz.


I hope somewhere in the book I can find a justification for my SingStar obsession that makes it sound cultured and evolutionarily advanced.

The examples the author uses to explain timbre or rhythm or pitch are from music that I know, like Buddy Holly and the Beatles and Paula Abdul (he raves about the musical complexity of 'Straight Up'). And I never realised that the 'ABC Song' had the same melody as 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star'. Not consciously, anyhow.

I look forward to reading more!

Walking along today (slightly stiffly - like a really really cool robot, I like to think) I saw some middle-aged ladies.

They had on sensible-shoes. With cushiony soles and velcro straps.

I hope I never have to wear old lady shoes. If I do, it will be a sign that I've given up. Or at least, my body has.

My back has returned to 90% power. Phew.

I did not like having to psyche myself up just to bend over and reach for the remote control on the table (it reminded me of when you've applied wax strips to your leg, and you have that moment of hesitation before you rip it off, because you know you are about to inflict sharp pain on yourself).

* * *

Where the Wild Things Are.

Interesting film. Nobody came out of it raving - at best people were defensively satisfied.

I liked it. As much out of loyalty to Spike Jonze as to the book its based on. But of its own account it was nicely made. I guess the criticisms of it would be that it didn't have a whole lot of emotional depth and it got fairly repetitive in its narrative cycle. Have destructive, wild fun. Feel lonely and sad afterwards. Repeat.

But it was nicely filmed, had a good sound-track, great special effects. And it had 'moments' that held gravity without having to say a lot. I liked how when he returned home at the end, him and his mother didn't even say a word - there were just lingering close-ups on their faces, showing all kids of love/regret/relief/apologies/understanding.

We talked afterwards about how, while we didn't love the casting of Max, it was understandable that for the story they were telling you probably couldn't have used a younger/cuter kid.

Anyhow... Jonze films are good for their 'look' and their seamless switching from reality to fantasy, using sometimes low-tech special effects and their quirkiness. This one didn't have the unpredictablity of his others and there wasn't the character development, but I guess the story didn't call for those things.

As a youngest child, I understood his pain and frustration.

$!#$%@#$%@#$%

I have quite a sore back today. Sorer than I can remember experiencing before.

I hurt it a bit at netball, playing defence. Then I played centre and it hurt even more. Then I got home and could not quite walk comfortably unless I stooped. Then I started reading the Timetravellor's Wife and read til 4am somehow... then couldn't get to sleep anyhow because my back hurt no matter what way I tried to lie. Got two hours sleep, maybe three. Gotup at 10.30 because I wasn't tired anyhow.

Then it hurts more today.

I will trek (or drive) down to the pharmacy and see if I can get better drugs. Owie.

I feel like swearing a lot. STUPID @#$@#$@#$ NETBALL!

* * *

Ahhh. Nurofen Plus. And a wheatie bag applied to lower back. I hardly ever take drugs - one Panadol at most. A few times a year.

Having four of them this morning before going to the chemist was not kind on my empty stomache. Had to go to the bakery after the chemist to get a big bread roll. Now I look forward to my pie at Sweet Mother's because it will be time to have more drugs, not because pie is delicious.

For now I can lie in bed for hours reading. And my back only hurts when I get up to close the curtain because the sun is too hot.

This 'Timetraveler's Wife' is very readable. Makes me want to travel in time. I have less than 100 pages left - that's fast reading for me, since I started at 11pm last night.

December 14th, 1993

Today marks a symmetry point in my life, in a way. I was 16 on the day my mother died. I'm 32 on this anniversary of her death.

That means I've lived half my life with her alive and half without. For some reason, the next bit seems like unchartered territory for me. It was always somewhat comforting that she'd at least been with me over half my life.

Lady of Leisure

Social Calendar

What a great start to my holidays....

Sunday - Maria's Bowling Club Christmas Party

I'm catching the bus out to some Hutt bowling club with Michelle for some cheap Christmas drinks, organised by Maria and others.

Monday - Lovely Bones Premiere

Me and Cass are going to park up for a good view of celebs at the Embassy red carpet event (6pm).

Tuesday - Wild Things

Going with Rich and co to 'Where the Wild things Are' at Embassy after 6pm some time.

Wednesday - Carols

Going with Cass to Carols in the Park (Waitangi Park from 7pm). Blanket and picnic! Must leave early for 9pm netball though....


If anyone wants to come to the premiere or carols in the park let me know. The more the merrier!
* * *

It Makes me Proud

I got a card from one of my all-time fav students (if I had favourites, that... which I don't....). She's just finished 7th form and it was one of the nicest cards ever.

I like this bit - 'I really like that you're a bit weird like me and my friends - I think it's a great attribute'. Aww!

Her and another kid (both of whom are quite quirky, to be fair) said I was one of the friendliest teachers they'd had. I'll take that!

* * *

A Juxtaposition

At 8pm on Friday night I was having a wine and pizza at that bar/cafe on the corner of Willis and Manners Streets (next to where the movie theatre used to be and it goes kinda below street level a tiny bit). I walked in and there was a guy who looked tallish, sitting down with a friend playing chess and wearing a Rock Shop tshirt. I thought he could be my boyfriend. I didn't talk to him though.

Later on the two girls I was with had a game of chess. They didn't know how to play so I had to teach them - couldn't quite remember how to 'castle' and which was nearest the king at the start out of the knight and bishop.... but I remembered the rest of it. It's been a while! I like chess.

About three hours later we were considerably drunker, having downed two bottles of champagne and six shots between us. We were out with other staff from school and some flatmates of staff. Two of the men in the party got in a fight on the foot-path in Courtenay Place. Some people ended up at A and E while one of the flatmates got stitches in his eye.

Rock 'n roll! Since I have a pretty mature bunch of friends, that may be the first time I've been with people who've had a fight like that..... makes me feel young again. Had I not been quite drunk at the time, I would have been deeply disturbed. There was blood.

The Silly Season is Nigh

1. PJ

Sam has done a thorough enough post on the PJ concert. Everyone I know who went was fairly unanimous about it was o for awesome. I was glad we got tickets in the front of the field and got to do some gentle moshing (we diverted any ungentle looking people who tried to push into our possie).

They really do have a lot of good songs and I was suprised at how good their most recent stuff sounded live too.

My friend Iona was an ideal host - dropped us off and picked us up. A guy at work who caught the train said that after the concert the train was just packed with PJ fans who had drugded in there... and he suddenly got the idea that if there was some crazy person out there who hated PJ, this would be the ideal way to eliminate them en mass..... the train could be going anywhere....

2. Frujus

I got a pack of Frujus a couple of weeks ago when Sam and Rich and co came around for take-aways. Kinda forgot about them.... but have had them all in the last few days.

I'd forgotten how damned good they are! I have a very satisfying routine going with sucking the juice out of the edges, then biting them off.

3. Tiny Stormtroopers

This person's photo collection tickles my fancy. It's two little stormtrooper figurines getting up to all kinds of mischief and adventures. Vader appears sometimes too.

Get Amongst it, Lassie

I quite like this article on stuff about the soccer-girl who yanked down the other player by her ponytail. It's a nice media dissection of the responses.

I tend to agree that it's rather blown out of proportion, when you consider that the male equivalent might be a guy yanking another guy down by his shoulder. That would never make international news. It's just a part of soccer, which is a dirty, dirty game. It was a pretty rubbish thing to do, and it might have hurt a bit, but it was in the heat of the moment and it was done to try to get free, rather than to try and maim her.

I certainly wouldn't want to play against her since she seems to like elbowing people in the kidneys, but the few games of soccer I've watched all looked fairly brutal and it's a game where only the most blatant of fouls seem to get the ref's attention. This culture leads players towards getting away with as much as they can off the ball, or even on the ball. If you wanna make up a little high-light reel of all the times she took out players during the match, then it's more of a criticism of the ref than of her.

I wonder, with our rather 'butch' female culture, if this incident would've been as controversial if it had happened in NZ. I like to think we applaud our female athletes for being rough and tough. I guess we don't support them to the point of unsportsmanlike behaviour, but to be fair only two of the things she did on that clip were grossly beyond fair contention for the ball.

Shh - Maybe Nobody Saw

That leads me to the French saga. As I was saying to Michelle and Sam tonight, I'm not going to criticise the guy who got away with the hand-ball. That kinda thing happens in sport, and if the ref had called it he probably would've nodded and got on with the game.... but sometimes when it doesn't get called, you're kinda taken aback (especially when it's that blatant) and you go with it out of shock. It's the ref's job to call up infringements - there is no onus on players to always be honest (especially at that top level).

Ultimate Frisbee is the only sport where that happens.

Certainly in most sports, if the ref misses something, you're not going to go back and make him change his call. In basketball, if I made a game-winning defensive play, but knew that I'd fouled the player, there's no way I'd say, 'Excuse me ref - but I fouled her, give her some free-throws.' Doesn't work like that. You might just quietly say to the player, 'Tough break - I probably fouled you there,' at the most.

I guess there would be something very noble about having owned up to it, but you can't play 'what-if'. If he'd refused to take the goal, then some die-hard French fan who was pissed off that his country didn't make the World Cup might've fire-bombed his house or something. You can't please everybody, and you've only got a few seconds in which to make that judgement call.

I guess that's one of the nice things about cricket, the expectation of honesty when the ref messes up a call. It's quite a unique and gentlemanly honour-code. It would be a real test of character to see if a batsman would own up knicking the ball in an equivalent situation - say, the final over of a World Cup final, where his team had no wickets left and needed a few runs to win it.

But soccer sure ain't cricket. Apples and oranges.

I have sampled the TV show 'Glee'.

It has its funny moments. Not 'Big Bang Theory' hilarious, but mildly amusing. They usually occur when the evil ex-cop cheerleading coach is around.

My two biggest criticisms are
1) That the singing is so obviously computerised to be perfect pitch. It has those awful Cher-like mechanical trills in it. I'm not going to be impressed by that - but would be impressed by a real voice singing pretty well, albeit imperfectly.
2) After two episodes, it seems that every single show will have the line 'But we're not like them [the popular kids] - that's why we're in Glee club, where we can be ourselves' (said as one of them looks wistfully at a hot cheerleader or cool guy).

Play it again, Sam

I can't remember what it was called, but on Sunday nights there used to be that TV requests show, hosted by Jay Lagaia and sponsored by Minties.

I love how Youtube serves the same function now.

Here are two TV moments I looked up out of nostalgia....

The Cosby Show: Challenge!
The Critic: El Kabong!
Rip Tide: Intro!
Whiz Kids: Theme

At some point you realise....

[photo irrelevant to first part of post]

That nobody is perfect.

I have realised this about bosses (realised it about my parents years ago). Facades have crumbled all around me!

I have been at a workplace long enough to see a total change in management. There seem to be two types of people who have these jobs - the charismatic and decisive ones who don't follow through and like to pass the buck and the methodical but over-consulting ones who are afraid of taking firm stands on things.

While people heavily critique the current management for whatever flaw they have, as soon as they get replaced, the same people will miss them and wish the new ones had their strengths (forgetting about the weaknesses).

It's an interesting thing to observe.

I just try and do my job as autonomously as possible and remember that weaknesses are often complemented by strengths and vice versa.

For example, I am 'disorganised' (though I could explain the method to my madness - it's more of a 'just-in-time' production technique) but I also adapt well when things don't go to plan. If I find myself in a Mexican stand-off with another teacher at the door to a computer room we both thought we booked, I can handle backing away to Plan B, rather than watch the other anally-prepared teacher begin to self-implode in the uncertainty of the moment.

Anyhow.

People of my generation are starting to be these wonderfully flawed leaders. Crap.

* * *

I was with Cassie at Count Down in the Hutt, when I came across something cool.

A basket on wheels! It's a mini-trolley that is light and handles really well, taking up hardly any space in the aisles, yet holding enough groceries for a single-lady. It's the Formula 1 trolley of the supermarket.

They are, of course, designed for the elderly, but glaciers also like to lean on things whenever possible.

* * *

I found this website that works like a search engine, but for pictures....

I seem to often match up with Asian women (I think it's the fringe) and when I have my hair pulled back I'm a dead ring-in for an Indian man (evidently) and it sometimes confuses my hair for a helmet.

Here is Jon and his similar images (he matches up with male models, lucky bugger).

Luckily I had lots of photos of Jon lying around, him being a photo-hog and all.

* * *

I found this interesting.

I am part of a modern social phenomenon - 'Women's Creation of Camera Phone Culture'.

Preface

I've eaten my way through a box of Cadbury Favourites. I'd like to say I'd shared them, but 'share' is a word the single person does not have the luxury of using. And thus the vicious cycle continues...

Anyhow, I was quite disappointed. I don't really like the changes they've made. It's all very bland and pastel and mushy. Where's the hard raspberry caramel that gives you jaw-cramp? Where's the caramel barrel that bursts into your mouth with gooey runny goodness? And they've added Cherry Ripes. Any candy based product based on coconut seems like a rip-off to me. Coconut is what Mum would sprinkle on the top of perfectly good chocolate slice to make it seem 'grown-up'. Ptooey to coconut, says Kate.

I digress.

In my chocolate eating haze I have been cruising the internet in a leisurely fashion. Leisurely in that I have no more senior classes to teach. So I'm not having to look up new and interesting stuff on wrestling or the newspaper industry. I can be totally frivalous and have no agenda! Bliss.

You will also note my blogging output has a correlation to school workload. Less work = more blog. Blogging is thinking. It's trying to formulate an opinion on something, or retell an event, in a cohesive way. I find it therapeutic. Am I allowed to call it a hobby? Will the people who produce solid, practical things from their hobbies laugh at me? Can I call it a hobby if I actually never get any better at it?

Anyhow, to have time and mind energy to blog is a good thing.

What I Like

I accidentally caught the end of Jools Holland tonight. I have decided to make a point of flicking onto Rialto every now and then, since for about the past 6 months I've forgotten it exists (I tend to go up to 9, then cycle back down - my world is limited).

And there was a girl on there that I liked. She is Imelda May. I actually only really liked the second song she did (which is later in the clip at 3mins12secs). Jools accompanies her on piano. It's jazzylicious.

I also like Colin Hay. I have decided to seek out some actual albums from him. I stumbled across him when I was being a pirate and getting songs from the Garden State sound track. He's done a lot of work on Scrubs.

I came across this song, which is one of my favourite post-break-up songs ever. I just like the sentiment of it. I like this song too, which is a bit more upbeat (a bit).

I like the sound of his voice (I have a thing for gravelly, story-telling singers) and I like the acoustic sound, and I also really like the lyrics.

I used to sing this song to myself back when I used to play guitar (that has been on hold since my flatmates put in enough barbed comments to make me self-conscious about playing - I have lost my callouses).

I like tangible, specific lyrics. I hate hyperboles too generic to mean anything (=Celine Dion).

Beck's lyrics are like poetry. I can't quite figure out what it means, but it sounds nice how it's all put together.

Crushed apple cider buzz.

Surround sound of Gomez's 'Rosalita'.

Niiiiiice.

* * *

Sometimes I wonder if my parents did me a dis-service by being so damned nice to me while I was growing up.

I have a pretty thin skin for mean people. A very thin skin - like an eyelid. I have a thick skin for a lot of things. But for meanness, I have a low threshold.

It can be excused in teenagers, who are still building their empathy stores (and who, for the most part, try really hard to be thoughtful). I could do without passive-aggressive shite from grown-ups.

* * *

I am beginning to lose faith in my scales.

They have fluctuated about 5kg in the last week or so - and I'm sure my body hasn't. Not having trustworthy scales sends me into some kind of existential angst - I'm not sure just how guilty I should be feeling! I want irrefutable evidence!

* * *

When you're in a hospital visiting someone, it's really hard to not cough.

* * *

Summer is a frustrating time when you live in a flat with no good out-door area.

* * *

On some levels I can still really respect my brother. He never has any money for treats. So, we were at the supermarket getting dinner and I said, 'I'll get you some stuff if you want anything.' He pauses thoughtfully and says, 'No.'

Then I insist, and he says, 'Ok - I could get some noodles.' He gets two six-packs of Trident noodles. I woulda bought him a lot more. I then insist he gets a treat as well. He gets a cake of chocolate.

* * *

I wonder if John Key's popularity has peaked. People are starting to talk about how the 2nd year tends to start to show the cracks.

* * *

I want to be friends with Sheldon.

Christmas Songs in my Head

1. My Husky Voice

My colleague said I should have recorded a new voice-mail message while I had my sexy-voice (in the early stages).

Had laryngitis again for a couple of days. It's the best of all the cool sounding diseases to have - you get visible symptoms, but feel pretty good inside! Great for sympathy, yet you can easily soldier on and look like a martyr when you actually feel better than you would with a run-of-the-mill head-cold.

It's quite an occupational hazard for a teacher. I had to plan a day of lessons where I had no need to talk - videos and essays, baby.

From googling my symptoms I have deduced that it probably somehow spread down from my impacted wisdom tooth, which seemed to infect that side of my mouth and lymph nodes a few days earlier. Either a viral or bacterial infection (I'm not sure of the difference). This is a good thing, since it means it was only acute laryngitis, rather than chronic. Chronic laryngitis means you need to go to something called a speech pathologist.

I don't like the idea of having a dying voice.

2. Healing the World

I spent quality time with my family today. My dad's wife had back surgery (relatively minor this time, though it went wrong and they had to operate again a couple of days later to take out a wonky screw, which means she can make good jokes about having a screw loose now).

Dad took me and my brother to the Michael Jackson movie. I paid though - a monumental ocassion, given my dad recently retired and it evidently costs $60 for three people to go to the movies and have ice creams! Who knew? I am now the bread-winner of the family.

I had cringed when I heard that was what we were seeing. It made sense, given my brother was a massive fan back in his youth.... And the first few minutes of the film made me cringe, with back up dancers gushing is a really put-on sort of way about how this was the highlight of their life.

But after that it was quite good. There was no narrator (they didn't mention his death at all), so it was just these really raw clips that showed the behind-the-scenes of the lead-up to a concert. You got to see the dance rehearsals and the band rehearsals. And I'd never realised how good his voice actually was - he's not like these modern pop singers who have to lip synch when they're live. He really is a perfectionist, but in a professional way. I liked seeing all the tiny details that they sorted out - the timing of everything is so intricate.

And he moved pretty good for an old fella. Certainly didn't look like a guy about to go into cardiac arrest or anything. It was actually better than a film of the live concert would have been, in terms of Michael being more animated and natural.

I liked it.

Long may the Weekend Be

Note: My dad playing bongo drums in the background. 'Baby' the leopard stuffed toy - Ruby's favourite ('Isn't he beautiful?' she often says). My happy-face cupcake (we made them - I did all the hard stuff though).

My favourite interaction of the weekend:

Ruby (3 year old nibling): Is Dav....vin your husband?

Me: No, David is my brother - like Finn is your brother.

Ruby: So who's your husband?

Me: I don't have one.

Ruby: Why not?

Me: I'm too young.

Ruby: [disbelieving look - had she continued in this vein I would have insisted I was 11 years old, even if she cried tears of frustration]

We kept playing her free Happy Meal computer game after that (though she was rubbish at it - could only press one direction button - I was awesome).

* * *

Back to 80 friends. She reappeared magically. Phew.

Diwali

It was a little chilly for Diwali. We had to brace sleety rain as we zig-zagged our way through the somewhat unnecessary queue barriers.

To us whities' surprise and disappointment, I'm guessing, there was no butter chicken in the whole place! It seemed to be mostly vegetarian lentil concoctions in sauce with fried stuff. I got samosa, pakora and mango lassi.

The funniest bit was when there was an Indian hip-hop group performing. They were quite bad-ass cool, with a beat-boxer and rapper. When they finished they thanked the audience and said, 'Hang around for the puppeteers.' Hehe. I liked that juxtaposition.

The puppeteers had some questionable moves. Most of the puppets seemed to hump the floor at some stage, while writhing about. I liked that they came out at the end and the big fat guy with a moustache was introduced as the master puppeteer. Sounded like a Metallica song.....

I liked it when they got a bunch of audience people to dance to the song from Slumdog Millionaire. Tai Ho! If Michelle had been less fluey, I would have made her come volunteer with me (once I realised that the first 4 bars just involved clapping, and the next 4 stepping from left to right).

* * *

And a he he he. This is something my nana would do and the guy in the car is the definition of a douche-bag.

This week I got a shoe fixed, a picture framed and fixed the problem of my headlights not workign.

How very grown-up!

* * *

I am still having fun with my wrestling unit. This week we had a critical look at the entrance songs, the divas, the language used in interviews and the use of steriods in WWE.

It feels somewhat wrong showing them clips of women in lingerie and men saying 'candyass'..... so far nobody's parents have complained..... I thought showing the CNN doco on drug use to them might at least make it look intellectual on some level......

* * *

Three weeks to go. Fishy knows what I'm talking about.

A banged head goes donk.

A hit cricket ball goes tonk.

What goes bonk?

Above the Law?

For me the Roman Polanski saga is fairly clear-cut. He broke a law years ago and fled the country in order to get out of paying the time for his crime. That's deplorable. I don't know a lot of the finer details, but from the bones of the issue I don't see a lot of grey area.

That he's finally been caught and made to face up to it is a good thing, I think.

It sickens me a little to see the Film Community (so self-important than I think they need capital letters) getting behind him. They're even stating that it's wrong of the police to use an artistic event as an excuse to catch him - poor artistic famous people! How inconsiderate of the police. Art should be above law.

I think it's awful that he's been able to, in such a successful and high-profile way, flout the law for so long, continuing to be free and successful overseas.

I actually don't see how he can even argue the case - 'Yeah I raped a 13 year old, but I was smart enough to get out of the country.... so you should leave me alone! I'm famous! I am outraged that you ruined a party by arresting me! I'm furious that I thought this was a safe and dodgey country for me to go to and I was wrong!'

No sympathy from me. He drugged and raped a 13 year old. Even if it was 'consensual' and she mislead him about her age, he still needs to face the consequences. I'm not going to feel one ounce of sympathy for someone who reacts in the way he did. It's cowardly and self-important.

I don't really care if he gets any more jail time out of it. The principle is that it's a good thing that police co-operate around the world to make sure people can't just run away and thumb their nose like that. They need to go through due process.

I may sound rather militant here, but it's rape of a 13 year old, not speeding tickets. And his only argument seems to be '...but I'm famous! They'll pick on me! I just want to make movies!'

It's a pretty good signal of the morality of the whole thing that Woody Allen is among his chief supporters.

My Viewing Pleasure

1. District 9

I liked it. It was probably a fair guess at how we would really react in such a situation. We like guns.

I especially liked the sarcastic bit at the beginning saying '... and they didn't choose to stop over Chicago or Washington.... but over Johannesburg...' That's a first! Aliens almost always land over America. It reminds them of home.

2. The Mighty Boosh

I had heard rave reviews about this, without having any clue what it actually was. Seemed like a cult classic that I had to pick up when I saw it for $36 for the entire season.

I am undecided. Six episodes in. I don't dislike it.....

Another Era

Kyle is moving out.

He's finally nabbed a lawyering job, but the catch is that it's in New Plymoth.

I will miss his icecreams. He often comes home with four delicious Memphis Melt-downs and Magnums. He lets us girls pick our favourites, then he has whatever's left.

He has thwarted many a diet with his late night spontaneous ice-cream gifts.

Pet Peeve #4

.... when people ask you question like, 'Hey, what are you doing on Saturday morning?' and you think they're going to suggest doing something fun, so you say, 'Nothing at the moment....'

Then they ask you for a favour, which is something you probably don't actually want to do, let alone on Saturday morning.

It's a very passive-aggressive (or maybe aggressive-aggressive) way to ask for a favour.

And it's an anti-climax.

It's happened to me twice in the last week and it annoyed me both times. If you want something, why not ask straight up? I don't like being tricked!

I must remember to, in the future, answer such leading questions with 'Why?' rather than 'Nothing...'. Caginess has its place.

Poorly Me

I hate it when your stash of tissue runs out. I'd taken several to class today, but my constantly dripping nose had quickly used them up. There were only remnants of tissues, all shredded and damp.

I realised, when a child had put her hand up for help and I had wearily motioned her over, that I should perhaps put the scrappy pile of tissues in my pocket (rather than on the desk where she'd just put her work down for me to look at).

The word 'clammy' is sometimes perfect.

* * *

Watch Out

Why do we still wear watches? When you think about it they're kinda archaic - not a lot has changed about them over time. They're clunky and generally not a fashion statement. I know at work I have a clock in most rooms I go into, or I can have a computer on. Yet I feel naked without my watch.

And in public, you can have your cell-phone handy to check, but I still often like to have my watch on.

Not in the holidays though. Holidays is watch-free time. It's a symbolic change in my state of mind. No more clock-watching. A few minutes will not make the difference between kids packing up tidily and the bell going and them running off without putting things away.

I wonder how many times a day I glance at my watch.

* * *

Frustrating Blogger Account

Are any other blogger users having trouble copy and pasting into the editing page? The only way I have figured out to do it is go into the edit html bit, then paste, then go back into compose. It's a new phenomenon.

* * *

Teachin' 'em to be Rednecks

I am a wrestling expert. I have given two power points to my class on the history of WWE. They may now think I'm a freak, but I think I'm intellectualising it enough that I won't get phone calls of complaints from parents. I've brought in good trivia stuff like the Chris Benoit murders and Owen Hart's death, as well as showing them Hulk Hogan in his vitamin days versus him in his NWO days.

Today we looked at entrances, leading onto the gimme exam-answer of saying how music ties into the target audience. I started with getting them to think about gladiators (showed them the trailer for Gladiator) and how it was battle for entertainment then, and it was socially acceptable, yet real. Back then we had slaves we could kill off, but nowadays that is frowned up, so we have to just have actors do it.

Then we moved on to how we have brought elements of theatrics into sports, starting with the haka, moving onto the Chicago Bulls' elaborate intros of the '90s (yay for being able to bring another of my favourite childhood things into a lesson) and boxing and high school football matches.

We then watched a really great Undertaker entrance from some Wrestlemania.

Trying to show that in a way, in order to hook into that 12-34yr old male audience, both sports and wrestling have cross-overs. Some of the conventions are the same. It is important to see where those similarities start and finish, and why.

The Gall and the Gumption

The 'Interupting Kanye' meme amuses me. As it does many other people.

What is it about it that has engaged with so many people and united us in shared outrage and agastness?

1. It's Black. It's White.

A lot of people are secretly always looking for reasons to moan about the bad manners of rap and hip hoppers. Rascals. This interaction created a great clashing of the stereotpyes - angry, drunk black man vs pure young country-singing white girl. You can't get a better victim. She's like the virgin in a horror movie.


2. Awkward Silence.

If Taylor Swift had laughed or made some witty remark once she got the mic back, it would've gone down as a weird and wacky moment, but the look of shock on her face once her moment of glory had been stolen and her feeling of recognition ripped away.... that made it unfunny.


It's like the kid who's got an icecream cone .... only a big bully had come and knocked it right off the cone, picked it up and spat on it, then plopped it back and said, 'Here you go - enjoy!'


It's just mean. Bully.


Brain Can't Think Ahead. Shiny Things.


Anyhow, it was quite wrong. You can see that his head just said, 'Oh - Beyonce didn't win. She might be feeling bad - I expected her to win. I'mma go say that I thought her video was the best, so she doesn't feel bad' or something along those lines.


He wasn't thinking, 'I'mma go make that Taylor girl feel like crap and tell her she didn't deserve her award in front of millions of viewers'. The thought process didn't get that far. The alcohol (and whatever else) intervened.


But in no universe was that an even remotely ok thing to do.


Oh Yeah, I know who Taylor Swift Is


One good thing that comes out of it is that Taylor Swift is more of a house-hold name than she used to be. I am hip and with-it and knew who she was beforehand (I accidentally came across an E Channel special on her once), but now a lot of other people who usually avoid soft-pop-country songs with videos of princesses and castles know who she is.


Victory!


Too Good to be True - Ratings Gold!


I like that there are conspiracy theories going around about it being some kind of set-up to get media attention. This is feasible on some levels - award show ratings have been flagging in recent years and it's hard to change the formula and spice things up, when they're so prone to cliche and predictable gratuities. I doubt Taylor was in on it. She did a pretty good breathless and excited act before he came up.

John Key - not popular with Teenage Girls

My Media class was doing work on demographics today, so I had a bunch of general categories and they had to wander around the class getting quantitative data from each other.

Nobody opted to do 'Political Views', so I grabbed that one.

I asked:
1. What party would you vote for if there was an election now?
2. Do you know who the MP for the region you live in is?
3. Do you prefer Barrack Obama, John Key or neither?

The results surprised me. In a class of about 24 only one kid said she would vote for National (and her reasoning was, '... because I like blue.') and a few went for Green, one for the Pacific Island party (if there is one), a few had no opinion and the rest were for Labour, rather resoundingly.

Gives me hope for our country's future! The youth are smart.

Quite a few didn't know for sure who their MP was - they often knew the first name or thought it was Kerry Prendegast ('cause my dad's always talking about her').

And all but one preferred Barrack (that one lone girl thinks John's cute). That was not at all surprising.

I guess I teach in a district that is a Labour strong-hold of late (Rongotai/Central Wellington) and Media Studies kids tend to be a bit radical - the Young Nats are probably doing Accounting and Economics (proper subjects).

Anyhow..... it made me proud. Good kids! (Not that I told them that - my survey was totally unbiased and for audience profiling only.)

Is it wrong...

1. Ready and Willing

Today I turned up to class and there were 8 kids there, out of 24.

And then I noticed that one of those kids wasn't even in the class. That was a humorous moment.

I stared at her for a minute and then said, 'Why...?' though given my low numbers, I didn't want to turn anyone away at this point.

She replied, 'I'm Mary*,' and proceeded to do an impersonation of her friend (who was away and whose regular seat she was sitting in - the girl is known for flapping her hands when she talks).

Deadpan, I replied, 'Oh, I didn't recognise you for a second there,' and continued with the lesson.

Eventually the others realised we weren't in the computer room and turned up to the right class. We did some brainstorming on some topics they'd been working on for about a month (luckily the girl knew what topic Mary was doing and was able to get right on task with some good points).

Once she'd written about a page I was able to say, 'Wow - that's more work than Mary's actually done all term!' and her friends agreed.

Eventually we got onto some work that she wasn't able to do, at which point I suggested she leave, but to make sure she showed Mary her very useful brainstorm ideas.

She left happily.

2. And nobody likes plain crackers for lunch

I had a 500g massive container of cottage cheese in the fridge at work. It was not due to expire until September 23rd (the day of the wrestling trip and my brother's birthday).

I went to use it today and it had gone off with a rather rancid smell. I suspect sabotage.

I must consider who my enemies at work are....

3. Form Time

Form time today went something like this

Me: Nice shoes today. Where's the tie?

Me: Pink forms are due today - who's lost theirs and needs a new one?

Me: No eating. Cell phones away. Stop dancing.




*name changed for ethical reasons

On a Good Day

1. Pretty Stuff

The above photos are from 'He's Just Not that Into You'. It's up there with 'Love Actually' as a romance that I can watch more than once, possibly because it's got a fragmented narrative as well, but also because the characters have nice depth and the director leaves the viewer to fill in some gaps (I watched some commentary which made nice sense). This one's probably not quite as good, and maybe boys wouldn't like it as much either, but I'm looking forward to seeing the projects the screenwriters are working on at the moment.

For me the best moments probably involve Ben Afleck (when he's washing the dishes at the sink, it actually made me catch my breath, even the second time).
I liked the film, but really got it out on DVD just to look at the clothes and set dressing again. The interiors are yummy. I have mashed together some of the details I liked (Scarlett Johansen wore some gorgeous dresses as only she can, Jennifer Connelly had a great corporate wardrobe, the main chick had some great soft looks with puff sleeves and Jennifer Aniston's apartment was gorgeous and chic and arty).
2. Welly Welly Good

I think part of the survival skills for living in Wellington is having a short memory. A few days of spring weather and I'm already forgetting the miserably cold nights in uninsulated flats. I blame the 'You Can't Beat Wellington on a Good Day' campaign. Brain-washed.

Weirdly successful campaign, when you consider it was just a euphemistic look at how crap Wellington weather is most of the time. For a large percent of the year, the best word to describe our outlook is 'grey'. But geez, it really does make you appreciate those rare good days.

.... and Wellington is lovely today!

Today I put on shorts and jandals for the first time this season (leg-waxing was required) and last weekend we had a BBQ. Eating fish and salad for dinner has also put me in the spring mood, as has having daffodils in a vase.

I went with Cass for a walk along the Petone foreshore today. Glistening harbour view, dogs chasing sticks and shaking the sea-water out of their coats, gentle waves lapping up to a frightened puppy being coaxed into the water. The whole time Honey was panting and sending us obvious messages that said 'IwannaplayIwannaplaythrowmeastickIwannaplay'. It was all very still, other than the jetboat and dog-walkers, and unrushed.

I feel like wearing something bright green. Maybe with my new bird earrings. And walking through some tulips. And drinking a mojito in a garden bar.

I gave my banner a spring-make0ver. I was a bit sick of it looking like I was proud of having Dan Brown on my bookshelf (I'm really not).

3. Nana Night Media Reviews

It's funny watching an American cooking show that calls scones 'biscuits'. Buddy, you may be a fancy chef and you may cut them out with a fancy cookie-cutter, but at the end of the day they're just cheese scones.

If you ever watch the film 'Dot the I', do hang on until the ending. The first 3/4 is pretty average, but it all comes together nicely. Me and Carly both had moments that we'd independently thought were odd or badly done earlier on, and it turns out they were 'clues'.

I watched 'The Kiterunner' again last night. That Hassan kid melts your heart.

I Heart Basketball

I knew from the moment a kid at school (the star player on our basketball team) said, 'Hey Miss - that team you're playing tonight is the Wellington Under 17 rep team - I'm in it!' that tonight's game would be a whupping.

But it was still fun. Basketball rules. Netball is for weeners.

I have a weird feeling that I didn't miss any shots tonight - got four from four in. That's a tidy contribution (considering we got 24 points in total). And they were all good shots - two rolling to the basket on a cut, one off a lob when my defender was fronting me, and one that was a couple of dribbles penetration pull-up jumper (ok - that was one a fluke, banked in pretty hard).

Rant 104

Our netball grade is not quite the top one, which seems to mean that we have athletic players, but not necessarily ones who are used to playing netball. We have big, solid rugby league guys playing against us. They're quick and jumpy, but don't know how to go for a ball without nearly maiming people.

I know it's not particularly intentional, but at the end of our last few games all I can remember is a montage of me cowering against the net or sprawling/stumbling/bracing-myself as some big Poly guy shoulder-barges me from the side as I innocently try to catch a pass. I think they often match the female D with Brad back in the circle, and send the sprint-star rugby player guy out to mark me. Neat. I think Michelle handles it just fine, because she's zippy and cunning enough to get around him, but I'm too accepting of my glacial qualities to even try that.

So I just play for angles/space, which means they're always nearby and can't resist trying for an intercept, which (given I call purposely for the ball in a direction I can protect/hold) means a lot of times they come across my body and hit me from the side as I catch it. They're not often going to be able to get the ball cleanly from the angle they're coming from - but they keep on trying. And they're rugby players, so their version of 'trying' is a lot less controlled than an experienced netball player usually is. It's more a free-for-all tunnel-vision attack on the ball.

After getting hit a few times in tonight's game I said to the ref, 'Just watch they don't injure someone.' She said, 'I'm calling the contacts.' I said, 'I know - but it's getting pretty rough - I don't want to end up with a sprained ankle or anything from it.'

She started justifying herself, which I didn't intend - just wanted to signal that I was feeling a bit vulnerable from the heavy contacts. All power to anyone who can intercept the ball off me and in a way I don't mind that they go hard even against a girl, but this guy wasn't usually getting the ball - he was just getting me. And his buddy at centre had hip-checked me pretty solidly last time I'd tried to cut into the shooting circle. Bit of a human pin-ball machine.

It's just one of those things with non-netball players that refs should tell them off for more, so that they learn. They need to start using their judgement to decide when they're not going to be able to get the ball without hitting people, and pull out before that happens. It's the spirit of the game.

Social netball is not worth screwing up your back/ankles for. I have pretty decent control generally and don't get injured. I can take a hit and fall in a controlled way, but when I have 100kg blocks of muscle pounding into me most times I catch the ball in open play I do feel a little vulnerable. If there's a 50-50 ball and I see these guys barrelling in from across the court, to be honest, I'm just going to let them get it. It's not worth the risk.

And the guy got righteous at me. He said, 'Oh - come on. You know I'm faster than you - I got that ball.'

The fact he thought he needed to point out he was faster than me was almost flattering - he said it in a way that he expected me to put up a fight about it. Erm. He had just sent me sprawling, when I had my hands on the ball. His point was odd. Sure, I'd slightly Hollywooded my fall....

Then the ref tried to make out we were contacting each other evenly - 'Both teams are aggressive and physical - you were both contesting equally.' Huh? I wasn't contesting - I was merely putting out my hand to catch a ball. I wasn't silly enough to initiate any kind of contact with a guy who could accidentally knock me out with his elbow and not even notice.

And then in the second half a different guy crunched into me while going for a ball that I'd already caught and had me pinned on the ground underneath him, against the net. That one scraped both my knees and hurt my back. The ref even asked afterward if I was alright.

I was able to haughtily reply, 'That's what I was talking about!' as I got up grimacing (half-wishing I'd actually sprained my ankle and had to be carried off court just to prove my point). I'm not sure if my moment of righteousness was worth it though .... I'll see how the old back feels in the morning.

It's a bit grim to prophecise your own injuries.

* * *

I am looking forward to playing a bit of gentle basketball tomorrow.

Basketball generally is a safer kind of rough - your defender is right behind you, so while they may have a forearm in your back, they haven't got a full head of steam and it's generally not aerial contact until you're shooting it, at which point you're usually both going straight up, rather than being hit from the side.

The refs in basketball are generally pretty strong and wouldn't allow it to get dangerous, anyhow.

And except for some tank-like women from the Trentham Armybase team, there aren't a lot of women I'd be afraid to take on for a ball.

* * *

Post Script

I'm quite possibly grossly exaggerating - if I watched play-back of our game I'd probably cringe and say, 'Stop being a cry-baby, you lazy wussie! Harden up!'.

Just venting a little.

Teaching Rocks

Teaching Media and English means that I can slowly brainwash children and teach them stuff I like. I have, over the years, slowly introduced lots of my favourite things into my courses.

1. The Catcher in the Rye - this was fairly easy as it's one of our Year 12 texts, but also one of my favourites.

2. Education For Leisure (a dark poem by Carol Ann Duffy) - I started a trend there and many other teachers have since taught this little gem at my school. I forced it in there after accidentally coming across it while looking up ways to torture budgies. I used it in a Year 11 poetry unit on sociopathic narrators.

3. Amelie - I have used this for scene analysis in Media and as a film study in English. One of my favourite films which I waited a few years to legitimately squeeze in there - I saw in last year's moderator's report that it was working really well as a Year 12 film study and jumped in there.

4. Heart of the Game - A basketball doco that I showed my Media class as an alternative to the shallow representation of teenage girls we'd been studying. Love forcing kids to watch girls' basketball!

5. Pan's Labyrinth - I used this as my close reading text for Year 12 Media. Love forcing them to watch movies with subtitles! It's actually good for the ESOL kids in that they often can pick out words visually better than they can understand them when spoken with a strong accent.

6. Emoticon Poem - I have shown the Rives visual poem to my Year 12 class when we did love poetry as a unit - they loved it too. Nice example of a really modern take on a genre.

7. The Boy in the Striped Pajamas - We just bought copies of this as an extension book to go with a text we teach at Year 9. I am pushing it onto my kids - such a sweet, accessible book.

8. No Country for Old Men - I got to show this to my Media class as an example of a recent film with noir tones to it.

9. The Music Videos of Michel Gondry - Examples of a director's sense of personal style for a unit with my 13 Media class.

10. Wrestling - And now, I get an excuse to take my Media class to the filming of a wrestling show for TV. I have long had a fascination with live wrestling - the kids just like having an afternoon off and wearing mufti (and I have told a couple of them that this is the one time where they can use their obnoxiousness in an appropriate way).

Larry Baldock is not giving up.

He seems a little (lot) crazy, but he's like a real life Wile E Coyote, clawing his way up the cliff, having just held the ACME dynamite stick as the Roadrunner scooted off down the road.
But damnit, he's back with a new hair-brained scheme. And this time he's pretty confident he's worked out that pesky bird..... this time.... There may just be an anvil involved.

* * *
This is my one purchase from the big Wellington Book Fair. It is a book I already have a copy of (the revised edition). I got the original edition at the fair, with the more psychadelic cover (below).

This is a book my mother had. My copy has her signature in the front cover. It was, I assume, one of her teaching resources. I'm not sure, but someone I got hold of it in my formative years and it became my favourite.
It has lots of lovely poems. There are nonsensical and humorous ones - they were the ones that I liked as a teen. There are more philosophical or reflective ones - they are the ones I like now.

Anyhow, it has long been my very-special-book and I quite like that I now have two copies of it. It is the book I picture when I say 'I love poetry' more than any other, for as much emotional as practical reasons. It has yellowed pages that have been traced by my fingers and gorgeous words that I have wrapped around my tongue a savoured (you talk on tiptoe) (it is the scar on a beautiful young man's face).

I was lucky to have a mother who gave me poetry books written for children every birthday, with beautiful illustrations. As a teenager I had to raid her Roger McGough anthologies and it wasn't until a few years ago that I accidentally fell across Carol Ann Duffy and Simon Armitage.

Along the way I waded through the classics at university, none of which I'd pull out and read for pleasure (though I often think of the messages of some of Gerald Manly Hopkins's works). I have taken some pleasure in the visual elegance of ee cummings and the crispness of William Carlos Williams, and in the almost pop-music catchiness of Robert Frost.

But this book is the one that is familiar and fond - every page.

Cheating

Simple, free, a little addictive

Book Fair in Parts

1. The one time I think I'm the first one there (and on time) it turns out I was late. Janet runs a tight ship!

2. I got one book. I got Richard to be my book trafficker (little does he know that it had illegal substances taped inside it and he was duped into taking it through the check-out for me). I considered asking Mash, but he seemed too straight up to traffick for me.

3. I halved a pizza with Kirsten - the kind of pizza you can fold in half, New York styles.

4. I bought shoes a half size too small for me. But only $60 (down from $210). They might stretch. They are cream pumps with an almond toe and brown heel.

5. At Unity I found 'The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo', which has been recommended. We shall see - I turn my nose up at crime fiction generally.

Bitter Blue and Taking it to the Top

Friday night was my dad's big retirement do. It was held in council chambers and it was packed - 130 people, some of them standing. That was nice. And three present and past mayors were in attendance.
Dad was in charge of the district council's finances, essentially, for 30 years. He did the annual report and decided on what the rates would be (certainly not a job that lends itself to popularity - you can't please everyone). He was pretty much second in charge, after the CEO, for a lot of the time he was there.
Highlights included

• A waiata where they'd rewritten the Bob Dylan classic into 'Hey Mr Treasurer Man'. Dad is a massive Bob fan, so good choice.
• A scripted court case, with bailif, judge, prosector, defence lawyer, affidavits and a jury. Pretty funny - four charges were raised (inciting the strike of 1989, bowing and curtseying to the prince when he visisted, rarking up the nutter who writes letters to the paper every week criticising the council and.... something else). Nice play on our surname.
• Presents - a beautiful tokotoko carved especially (Dad uses a walking stick quite often anyhow, since his feet are both numb) - it has a man and woman (him and his wife) and two families intertwined underneath them (two lines that curve around the bottom of the stick). It feels just right when you hold it. A good nod to the fact that he's fairly well respected and known as being a bit of an orator (loves his speeches).

But the best of all....

• Uncle Peter and Aunty Ann had driven up from Wellington to be there. Now, this is a hullaballoo for the Wellington Judges. They only make the trip once or twice a year, and they always complain about the traffic. They all arrived a little late and immediately started moaning about Otaki and Paekakariki.... and said it took 'one and a half hours'! Erm...... it always takes me about that long.... an hour 20 if it's Sunday morning.... And they left at 5pm on a Friday night - they did bloody well to get there in under two hours!
• Anyhow, I digress. He told me about how Aunty Ann had stopped in Levin on the way through, a month ago. She'd taken Nana to Mr Bun's for lunch. She'd gone to put some money in the meter (40c an hour) and it had said ERROR. So she'd put some money in another meter. Now, turns out that in Levin each meter is for a particular bay of parks, and you have to pay for your number.... so paying on the wrong meter didn't work. She got sent a ticket.
• They were obviously indignant and outraged. Uncle Peter is quite hard-case, so once we were having drinks and nibbles, after all the speeches, he'd figured out which guy the mayor was. He went right up to him and started telling him the story of the parking fine. The mayor kinda played along (gets this kinda thing all the time, no doubt). He thought my uncle was kidding.
• But then he pulled the actual letter they got in the post out of his pocket - they had come prepared! He saw the CEO of the council walking by too, and pulled him into the conversation. It went on for quite some time - it turned into this good spirited debate.
• Meanwhile, the rest of the family were standing nearby, whispering to each other, 'Is he really showing the mayor his ticket? In the middle of nibbles? Nooooo!' But laughing. It was hilarious. His wife was mortified.
• Take it right to the top! It was his last chance to get this ticket sorted swiftly, while Dad was still on the pay-roll.

* * *
We had a good netball game tonight.

• Good in that it was high quality play and you had to earn your points
• Good in that we played ok and were leading for bits of the game
• Good in that the other team generally played in good spirit and were physical, but not dangerous

We had a bad netball game tonight.

• Bad in that we'd asked not to have a certain ref (our first request this season), but he was the very ref we got.
• He lets games get ridiculously physical, which is never going to suit us and frankly isn't that much fun. And we knew that's the way this game would head, if we didn't have a competent ref.
• Bad in that we were there before he'd even started the clock and the other team didn't arrived until 6 minutes left... and yet he refused to give us five bonus points because we didn't have five players on the court in the first minute.
• We were standing beside the court chatting, and three of our players were on the courting shooting around ... thinking it was going to be a typical Sunday-default game.
• There were little kids playing around on our court, so it didn't exactly look urgent that we got on. Grr. Most refs would, if they were going to be so 'by the book' about it, call out to you 'Get two more players on the court if you want your bonus points'. Not a hard thing to do.
• And bad in that we lost by two, on a shot at the buzzer. And did a few bad things ourselves (amongst the good).

A bit rubbish though. I'm of the opinion that you can't really blame the ref for losing - it's a pretty extreme case where the ref has that much impact. A good team can usually just play to the ref, even if they're rubbish.

But it makes me feel a little bitter if they're rubbish in a way that suits the style of one of the teams, but not the other. Like tonight, he let the other team get away with a lot of contact on and off the ball, and man-for-man they were probably stronger than us (but using tactics like holding shirts and pushing you as you went for the ball).

Once it was obvious he wasn't calling them for it, you'd think twice about going for a 50/50 catch where you knew a six-foot-tall-rugby-player of a guy was also flying in for it.

And he was not calling replays very strictly, which seemed to favour them as they often fumbled then recovered (they did a lot of bullet passes that were tricky to catch), whereas we generally catch it or totally mess it up (slower, softer passes). So there were lots of times you just assumed he was about to call something against the other team, so you'd pause for a second.... but play would continue.

That's frustrating - they're running a business and we're paying money for a quality service. I wouldn't complain about the reffing in a school game, where's it's volunteers and nobody's making money out of it.

End of vent.

Jon Key is gonna be on Letterman.

Now all of America, who already watch Flight of the Conchords, are going to think we really are like that. John is a little similar to Murray. Maybe if any of the dozen or so spokesperson Rhys Darby has going at the moment dry up he could try going into the impersonating business. I'd like to see that.

We will come off like yokels. I guess we'll be down-to-earth yokels. Part of the charm.