Pokered

Justin had a beginner-friendly poker game at his house today.

I have leart a lot. Having sucked up all the knowledge in the room, I am now ready to play properly. I reckon next time I play I'll be awesome.

We played three $5 games, none of which I won. But I did not finish last in any of them! And by the final game I was 3rd out of 5, and I could've duked it out for 2nd place, but we were running short on time so I took a gamble that didn't pay off (bloody Justin and his ace).

I have learnt

1. You probably shouldn't go in on an 8 and a 3.

2. People don't bluff as often as I assumed.

3. What 'ALL IN!' means. Poker has heaps of fun sayings to learn!

4. What an 'Ana Kournakova' is (ace/king combo - not as good as it looks). Though it beat my pair of kings on the final turn.

5. To hide my cards better.

6. To shuffle poker cards on the table - they are very slippery.

7. That beef jerky really is the perfect complement to a poker game.

8. That poker is a game of patience.

All in all, I'm happy with it. $15 for three hours of entertainment is a good deal. Better than a crappy movie!

* * *

Those of you who know Justin may want to ask him how he got his bruised eye. (I've got two words for you: shadow boxing.)

ELIMINATION #2

Just had a girl I went to high-school with 'friend' me. She was an actual friend - we had sleep-overs.

It turned into a straight swap for another high-school person. But this one was a guy who was really only on the outer fringe of my group of friends, and he was a little naughty for me to be one-on-one friends with. So he's gone.

What an exciting start to the day!

* * *

I've been listening to 'The Coast' on my bed-side radio this week. Ok, so it's old-people easy-listening, but I really like that old 50s and 60s stuff with the harmonising, and my radio gets barely any stations well. So shut up if you're about to mock me.....

And every time a particular jingle for the station has come on, I've misheard it and been momentarily shocked.

It goes something like 'Open fires on a winter night....'

But I keep hearing the word 'thighs' instead of 'fires'. Dodgey!

THE 80S! ELECTRONICS BUILT TO LAST!

* * *
And here's an accessory worthy of an English teacher.

Where

Elvis

Lives

Life

Incognito,

Never

Getting

To

O

N

The Sun is Smiling

Sunny spring mornings are the best.

On my supermarket trip I bought almost exclusively fresh things. Fish, juice, veges, fruit, flowers, Cyclops yoghurt, feta. And a thick paper to read.

I say this having had Burger Wisconsin for dinner just before my basketball game on Thursday and a quite nice seafood tom-yum soup from my local Thai restaurant (which is, according to my ex-chef flatmate, really really authentic and good). My body is craving non-take-awayed food, though.

But there is a good review for a new sushi restaurant on Vivian St. Might have to try it some time. Sushi is good. It's one of the only treat-foods you can have and actually feel good afterwards.

* * *

I watched The Bachelor on Friday, the 'After the Final Rose' special.

It is all very ick. In real life, I don't like the feeling of ever being someone's second-choice..... that show takes it to an entirely new level. I'd be deeply suspicious of a guy who changed his mind that quickly.

In something like 19 seasons of The Bachelor there has been only one actual marriage. So it's really just a glorified dating show.

Oddly compelling viewing, though :)

Bring back Studs, I say. It didn't pretend to be anything other than what it was - a hook-up show.

* * *

I love when Levin gets in the news. It's usually for random things. This time it's a protest at a Levin piggery. He he. Pigs. Levin. Who knew 'piggery' was a word?

This isn't up there with the mobility scooter hit and run or the eldery woman who got killed by a sheep.

bRomantic

I like the whole bro-mance thing. Guys have pretty cute friendships. Like Justin and Jon. Aww.

It seems to be a recent trend to have movies and TV shows based around a bro-mance - like Scrubs or Taledego Nights ('I'll put out your invisible flames!'). I think it's kinda cool that guys can be all, 'I love you, dude!'.

I was wondering if it really is such a modern trend though, or is it just having a resurgence? Are their earlier examples or prototypes? What defines it?

1. Big Boys - a willingness for sillyness

A bro-mance has an element of being a kid on the inside. Their eyes light up when they see each other, they could happily play games and do silly, childish things together. There is certainly an element of having retained what it is for boys to be friends when they're 4 year olds. You see scenes of the boys in Big Bang Theory playing computer games intently together, or Barney wanting to play laser tag in How I Met Your Mother or Joey and and Chandler playing foozeball in Friends.

These child-like adventures might often involve drugs/alcohol. There are a lot of bro-mance-ish comedies that revolve around pot-smoking, like Bill and Ted or Wayne's World or That 70s Show. Perhaps this is pertinent to the next point, as the altered state allows them to show emotions openly, with an 'excuse'. Maybe a bro-mance is also about keeping that wild, crazy part of your life alive (reminiscing together about your uni days). It's easy to say, 'I love you man,' when you're stoned or high.

Having said that, Michael Jackson and McCauly Caulkin don't quite fit the definition ....

2. It's Not Sexual

While a bro-mance can be physical, it's not sexual. It's ok to hug and say I love you, and even cry in front of each other. But there's never the undertone of it being 'gay'. I think it's (possibly?) a sign of growing maturity in society about it being ok for males to show affection towards each other without it being weird.

If the bro-mance is a more modern trend, perhaps this is part of the explanation. You had shows with male duos in them, like CHiPs or Simon and Simon, but there was this overt masculinity and staunchness. The tender moments were short and symbolic, rather than openly emotional. A little head nod of recognition.

The quality of being the strong-silent type and being independant and herioc were pretty trendy at that time. You had solo heroes like Rambo and McGyver and The Terminator. Emotions were for the weak. Affection could often not even be afforded for the ladies - these men were destined for a life of loneliness. Nobody could get too close to them.

It can verge on being sexual, with the odd awkward 'joke', like in Scrubs. But that's only because deep down guys know they'd be in heaven if they could marry their best mate and still be sexually satisfied. That is a fantasy. It's ok tell your bro their butt looks good in their new jeans, though.

But then you have people like Sam and Woody on Cheers, which also doesn't fit the definition because ....

3. It's Equal

I think in the past there have been male relationships that involved a big brother or mentoring role. In those situations it was ok to be affectionate.

There was Hans Solo and Luke, Batman and Robin (you could debate that they fail of category 2 already) or Larry and Balki. But they weren't quite bros. They had each other's backs, but one of them was really looking after the other one. It was playing on the whole side-kick fad. One of them was godly and cool, the other one wanted to be like them.

A bro-mance is about mutual respect. Nobody is superior to anybody else. Your bro lifts your ego up - it's not competitive. Bret and Jermaine are equally hapless in love.



Any omissions? Any other criteria? This is a theory-in-progress.

Super-Sub

When Svend was left companionless for Valentino: The Last Emperor on Sunday, I swooped in. That's just the kinda friend I am!

It was nice. It wasn't my favourite Film Fest thing, but it was watchable and made me think. I like that about Film Fest docos - they're a lucky-dip.

Afterwards, I was perusing my local video store (when will I start calling it the 'DVD shop'?) and was sorely disappointed by the doco section. I'd seen all the ones that looked any good to me. Need more variety! On the plus side (or possibly minus side) the guy serving me knew my name instantly (first and sur). I am still a regular. And this wasn't even my sci-fi buddy.

Anyhow. Valentino. The couture fashion designer guy - does dresses. It was really a doco about the changing nature of the fashion industry and how it's more about being commercially viable, and less about the art of it now. It amazed me that some company could take over the 'Valentino' label, and actually get rid of the eponymous designer. There was a key moment where they were planning a big 45th anniversary retrospective for Valentino, and his future hung in the balance with ownership changing. The young hot-shot the new owners had brought in to manage the company joked that, '.... more importantly, it's my 40th birthday that day!' Joking.... but not joking. The way they filmed him, he was always lurking around in the background, with his perfect hair and smarmyness. Good villain.

Valentino was visionary, stubborn, impractical. But he stuck to his guns. He said that he refused to compromise his vision of the label - he wasn't going to make accessory brands that were sold at airports, or do fragrances. He designed beautiful ball gowns. Full stop. His business and life partner supported him unwaveringly, the exact kind of person you'd want managing the business side of your life, if you wanted to just be the artist. Valentino is many things, but a sell-out is not one of them. Possibly a pragmatist is another.

And there were pretty dresses, and statuesque models (who would make even me look dwarfish - where were they when Liv Tyler was cast as an elf???). It was a nice view into the world of fashion and runway shows - you could tell that a lot of different people thought they were really the puppet masters and that everybody else was expendable. One poor model just stood around naked, silent and still, while Valentino and his seamstress pinned and folded fabric around her. She was nothing more than a canvas to them. Interesting life.

* * *

In order of likingness - Film Fest list for 2009

1. It might Get Loud - delightful on every level (five stars)

2. Moon - a smart sci-fi (four and a half stars)

3. Adventureland - not that memorable, but sweet and on my wavelength (three and a half stars)

4. Valentino: The Last Emporer - interesting insight into a foreign world (three and a third stars)

5. We Live in Public - very relevant to (my) modern society, but harder to engage with (three stars - would have been less without director's talk)

Sitting Down

1. 'It Might Get Loud'

This was the final planned Film Fest outing. I met Sam at the Embassy. After initial confusion over seats (C10 didn't actually exist - the usher thought maybe it was because of the orchestra being set up and some seats being removed.... but then I realised I was just looking at an old ticket stub...... oops .... blame the hangover). Our actual seats were great - pretty much centre of the front row of the nice seats.

This doco was about Jimmy page (Led Zep), The Edge (U2) and Jack White (White Stripes etc) and their experiences with guitars, particularly electric ones.

It worked. It was lovely and I had a permanent smile on my face, right from the opening credits (which were extreme closeups, tracking along the bodies of guitars, focusing on the curves and details). I don't know how long it was, but I could've watched more - wasn't getting even remotely antsy by the time it ended. I'd get the DVD and watch the bonus footage.

The three of them are all interesting personalities, great storytellers and likable. The doco would go between each of their individual stories (starting right back when they got their first beloved guitar and discovered the blues or rock, to when they formed their first bands and discovered their own sounds, to the creation of some of their key licks and rock-anthems). Then it would cut to an intimate meeting between the three of them, where it was just them in an empty studio, sitting on a couch, with a few guitars, having a chat.

They would each explain one of their 'tricks' and then the others would join in, creating a three-guitar jam session. It was pure joy! The three of them were just so curious about how things worked and it was a bit of a love-fest. They were all those kids who liked to figure out how things worked - Jimmy Page built a guitar from scratch as a teenager. Sam and I liked how Jack White was trying to act pretty cool, but when Jimmy Page was leaning in and listening to him explain a bit of one of his songs, he had this cute little smile on his face that showed he was getting a massive kick out of the whole thing.

The three of them were fairly perfectly chosen - you had the three different generations of music represented.

Jimmy was the early rocker, coming out of a skiffle background, being an early session-player and then forming one of the best guitar bands ever. His style is less about creating distortion or effects, more about putting delicate details and trills into it. But he can't sing. There was footage of him as a young teenager, playing about two chords in a skiffle band in a variety show, and when the host asked what he wanted to do, young James Page earnestly said he thought he might be a biological researcher.

*

Then there's Edge, coming out of the punk era, where they just wanted to strip everything back. He went right back to his old high school, where the band was formed, and the doco touched on some of the political turmoil in Belfast and Ireland at the time. The Edge was the one who is a master of taking a simple progression and turning it into something completely different through effects. It showed him jamming on his own in his studio right on the waterfront, and he had masses of pedals and buttons at his feet, which he cycled through with ease. He's quite a lovely, funny character. It was nice to see him in the spotlight, with Bono just coming into shot every now and then, but never the focus. And he can sing! He was the technician of the three, using technology to create sounds that were in his head, but which he struggled to reproduce with just the guitar.

Jack White was the raw talent. He explained his relationship with instruments as a battle to tame them. He liked getting a guitar with a bent neck and trying to force something good out of it. He went right back and showed us the blues album with an old black guy singing with no accompaniment other than his own clapping, and said that's still his favourite song ever. It was quite haunting. But you can see it really coming through in some of his songs. I liked when he explained how the White Stripes came about - it was from him wanting to do this stripped back blues style music, in a time when everyone in his neighbourhood was into hiphop and electronic music. He saw Meg banging away on the drums, like a caveman, and thought, 'Bingo!' - that's the image to base the band around. Even in the doco he had a more avant guarde (?), constructed persona - never quite as sure of who he actually is. There were moments where he seemed genuine, but even the more 'artistic' bits with him were always interesting. And he was balanced out by the other two.

It was just quite gorgeous. Good graphics, nicely shot, interesting editing.... and genuine moments. And music! Good music. You just couldn't help but share in the pure joy that the three men obviously still get from creating music.

We had coffee and food at The Craftsman across the road afterwards. It is becoming one of my favourite places for a cosy low-key chat in the afternoon. I caught sight of their old-school games cabinet and might have to go back and try some of them out (Connect Four, Guess Who, Ludo).

* * *

2. It Might Get Slow - The Ballet

I don't know if I've ever been to an actual ballet. I certainly can't recall any experiences. I took ballet as a 6 year old - but discovered it was intensely boring (at that age, all were doing was pointing our toes and skipping in circles). Perhaps there was a realisation that my body was not at all suited for such delicate pursuits.

Anyhow, somewhere deep inside my past is that girlhood desire to be a ballerina. It's in most of us.

So, me and my two female flatmates donned some girly clothes to go to the ballet. We entered the lobby and it was all quite busy feeling, People were loitering about, glass of wine in hand, dressed in their finery. There were actually ladies in sequins. There were some gorgeous boots and dresses. There was the odd man, obviously being a dutiful boyfriend/husband, but on the whole it was older ladies and tween-aged girls.

The bells started to go, which was quite fun. Time to start! We ascended the stairs to our circle seats. We were quite amazed at high how up we were - and how steeply the stairs and seats rose. I think when you enter the St James there always a moment of awe as you're transported to an older era. You have to stop and take in the details on the roof and wonder what it would be like sitting in the box-seats at the front, behind the velvet curtains.

The first act started. And my enthusiasm quickly dropped.

I thought maybe I was just uncultured, but after literally half an hour of nothing much happening.... I was quite frustrated. There was no set, no lighting effects. Just a bare stage with ten or so fairly plainly costumed ballerinas taking turns having solos or small group dances, while the rest stood about watching. There was no real acting. And it just went on and on. No storyline.

They bowed about three times, then the lights went on. After a few seconds holding back, we turned to each other and said, 'That was it????' We were all fairly disappointed. It had been half an hour, it was already the interval, and almost nothing had happened. All we had enjoyed was the muscles in the guys' legs, the way the ballet skirts swished and lifted as they danced and the orchestra music itself.

We started to get quite cynical, especially when the lights finally went back out and the orchestra started playing..... but the curtains remained closed for the entire first song. We thought maybe it was a conceptual ballet and we actually had to just imagine what would be going on if we could see the ballerinas. We were on the verge of becoming hecklers, our whispers and sniggers getting louder.

But then the curtains opened and it was more what we had expected. There was a massive, fairy-tale set, lighting effects, themed costumes... and a fairy! Finally! This section was fun - with a story, interactions, humour, beautifully choreographed group dances.

We're still not sure what the first third of the show was all about - it bore little relevance to the rest of it. Afterwards we were watching some credits in the lobby, and there was a bunch of ballerinas under a differently titled show.... maybe it was actually nothing to do with the rest of the ballet? We are still clueless, as we didn't have a programme.

[Upon further research I have discovered it was merely highlights of the choreography from another ballet written by the same guy - kinda mashed together with no storyline - makes more sense. We had actually made up our own story of how it worked as a part of the actual ballet..... that's what you get for not buying a programme!]

The last third dragged a little, with too much fairy-dance for my liking and a very drawn-out process of the fairy being afraid to actually touch the lead male.... so they chased each other tentatively across the stage again and again and again. Then she let him catch her, her wings fell off.... and she died. That all happened very quickly. She, by the way, was disturbingly thin, with her ribs sticking out alarmingly, though it did help me keep track of which fairy she was.

Anyhow...... the last two thirds were fun. I think overall I prefer a good play or musical, but it was nice for a change. The most fun bit was the people-watching we did between acts. Some odd characters go to the ballet.

Maybe I approached it the wrong way. Are they supposed to realyl be aimed at an audience of children and tweens? In that case - it was fine. The pantomime acting, the plot that could be summed up in two sentences (with not a lot of nuances and layers to be seen beyond that)..... the pretty things to look at .... All great for young girls.

We had pudding at Sweet Mother's afterwards. Though I had curly fries.

* * *

On days like that I like living in a city.

Groggy

1. Drinking Yellow and some blanc at Regal.

2. About 10 different meat dishes.

3. Gumby bought Justin some wind-up sumo toys. The lazy Susan was a perfect dojo thingie for them. They tended to like turning each other around and doing dodgey things, rather than pushing each other off the edge.

4. Met some guy guys from Paihiatua and Mangitanoka down for the rugby. We bought them shots and took photos. Country boys are cute - and short.

5. Went to Temperance for the first time. Would have felt old, were I not so drunk. Jon and Justin danced on the table-tops. Actually.

6. Many many rounds of shots.

7. Walked home. The tunnel is soooooooooooo long. Drunken text.

8. Not feel good today.

9. Going to have some toast.

10. And rock a bit more (side to side, not party-like).

11. Might never drink again. For at least a week.

12. Below are pictures of what the evening looked like. I just discovered them on my camera.

13. At least I'm having a good hair-day today. It makes up for my poorly tummy and head.

Angry Kate

My angry side comes out during basketball, mostly. I sometimes wonder what the girls doing score-bench think (being current students at my school) when they see me giving incredulous looks at the ref and arguing calls.

I dunno what it's like in the men's league (Jon and Morgan?) but the women's league has what we call 'family rules' where certain teams are pretty much all cousins with the referees. So they get away with pushing you in the back when you're cutting, yanking your arm when you're getting a rebound, breaking early on free-throws, etc. It's annoying.

Tonight was our semi-final. We were playing a team that we've actually beaten the last two times we played them, in fairly close games. I think we surprised them both times - they're a pretty savvy, experienced bunch and they play a physical game. So we knew they were going to come out really intensely tonight - they even did a proper lay-up drill during warmup time (while we sat around going, 'Pfffft - we're not wasting our energy..... (uh, we don't even have a ball anyhow)').

I got angry when I said to the ref, before a free-throw, 'Can you watch the breaking, please?' really polite-like..... to which the ref said, 'I have been' hautily... and proceeded to let someone go in blatantly before the shooter had released the shot, right in front of me.... at which point I just stood still, thinking, 'Well he HAS to call that - I just pointed it out to him - he's the base-line ref....' Nope. Grrr. Family-rules. That player tipped the ball and her team got the rebound. For flip's sakes - that's one of the easiest calls in basketball.

The satisfying part was scoring 7 of our 23 points (which is a pathetic total, really) on decently strong inside moves and holding them to 29 (which obviously means they won, but we were within four for the last few minutes, which is winnable, and not a lot of those points came from inside, so I did my job decently). I blocked lots of shot again.

We get a second-chance final next week, which is against an easier team (who somehow finished ahead of both of our teams). They're a team full of those annoying players who have awful, unbalanced, unco-looking shots they just kinda throw up randomly, but an unfairly large proportion of them go in.

* * *

Had parent interviews tonight. They were fine.

It's awkward when you get the end of what you have to say about a kid..... but the parent just kinda sits there, expecting more..... and you just say, 'So uh yes, she's doing fine,' and they nod, but don't budge. I think they're trying to take their full 5 minutes.

Seriously - I teach their kid 5 hours a fortnight, at the same time I'm teaching 28 or so other kids. I can remember the basics (clever/average/below-average/noisy/quiet/organised/lazy), and refer to a few notes in my markbook.... but I don't have a photographic memory of every piece of work she's done all year.

I think they're used to primary school where they have teachers who may have had them for several years, or who have them for most of the day, or at least teach them every day of the week. I teach about 140 kids.

I'm just happy I know all of their names (most of the time, as long as they sit in their regular seats).

I felt a bit like a fire-fighter at work today - and every time I put out one little fire, an new one would spring up.


My form class of 13 year olds have issues you wouldn't wish on a kid. Luckily none of it is behavioural and it's not issues they have with each other, but by lunch-time I was understanding what it must feel like to be a counsellor. Poor little things.


I am feeling warmly towards them right now - I even bought them chocolate, just 'cause. They're still coming to school, wearing good uniform, doing work in class. And being generally pretty nice to each other. They're like my own little band of Lost Girls (Peter Pan styles).


* * *


I am looking forward to going to the ballet! Did I already say that? I will have to wear something girly.

* * *

People who like their jobs are much more fun to be around. I have realised this in the past and remembered it again recently.

I remember dating guys who hated their jobs, and I'd innocently ask, 'How was your day?' and get either grunts or rants. You kinda stop wanting to ask after a while.

I like my job. I was out at dinner with three teachers from other schools on Friday night - it was nice. We joke about the kids, but underneath it there's definitely affection.

Quite at the other end of the spectrum, I was then talking to Damon about his work project and he has copious amounts of enthusiasm for all that mysterious coding and testing.

Film Fest and Live Events and Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah

Sam couldn't make it at the last minute to 'We Live in Public'. So, it being too late to give his ticket away to anyone, I sent out a text to Svend. And like I'd just sent out the Bat Signal, he appeared seconds later to take up my offer of better leg-room and some prime company.

That was a highlight. I don't think I've seen Svend since last year's Fest, when I had a between films snack and post-film drink with him.

Always a thing of beauty to see him manage his time and consult, with biblical dedication, his wee time-table (which has the smallest font ever!) and whisk himself off mid-director's-speech afterwards. The show must go on - the opening credits wait for no man.

Anyhow, this was a doco about ..... internet stuff. Hard to explain. It focused on a guy who was what they called a 'visionary', combining different mediums before most people (very early attempts at online cable stations and a Big Brother type experiment, with guns). He was essentially a bit of an ass, which the director admitted, when asked in the Q and A.

He was that typical child who grew up without involved parents (travelling father and alcoholic mother) and was left to sit alone with his beloved TV most of the time. So Gilligan's Island became his family. Then he became a dot.com millionaire, lived amongst the trendy art-crowd (having never been popular before), and crashed heavily a few years later.

I didn't find it enjoyable to watch, per se. It was kinda gruelling, wading through this wasteland of reality-tv type footage (from his web-cam experiments) and listening to this rather egocentric guy justify himself. It assaulted the senses, rather than being a gentle little ride.

But the messages coming through were pertinent. What struck me was how hedonistic the people living on cameras were. They quickly regressed to orgy-like behaviour and extravagance, once the cameras were on. So, in a way, that Big Brother (TV show) type atmosphere actually links back to really ancient behaviour. To be a civilised society maybe we need boundaries. Once we take down boundaries, and see each other peeing and showering - what else is there to lose? People who think they're living in totaly freedom (and it's quite an illusion) can do whatever they want - but this is the behaviour they choose - running around naked, having sex on camera, over-indulging in basic pleasures.

And, as Svend said in his review, it was interesting how the dynamics of a relationship played out when he filmed every angle of his house for 6 months, leading to his girlfriend leaving him. The couple would have a fight, then retreat to their respective computers to see whose side the audience was on, rather than talking it out. It's taking a basic human response, but amplifying it to a whole new level. It's the girl who calls up her best friend to talk about what a dick her boyfriend is being - but now it's 100 people on the internet, and none of them really know her at all. Which means they can tell her exactly what she wants to hear.

There was a nice statement about how crap he felt when his viewers dwindled from hundreds, even thousands, to ten measly people, towards the end. This became an ever-present mirror of his dwindling self worth - listen to me, pay me attention.

And this was before we all started counting our Facebook friends or followers on Twitter. It is interesting having measurable popularity.

There was a tiny bit at the end about how internet advertisers use our emails, chats and profile details in ways we don't even realise. They'll take a couple of key words from something we've posted and put up an ad on our page that matches them. What we generally consider 'private' communications are anything but. I don't even like having a loytalty card at the supermarket because I hate the thought of my buying habits being analysed and exploited - but at least you know they're doing it. A lot of marketing going on with the internet is almost subliminal, it's so seamlessly integrated into what you're already doing. Though, as Rich pointed out, we are all getting very good at scanning the page and almost not registering the advertising at all, once we know the patterns. I would've liked to see more about this point, but it was only a one-minute tag-on at the end.

The director was interesting to listen to afterwards - she was really candid and open and told a great narrative. Someone would ask the simplest question and she would spin it into an interesting anecdote. While I probably 'got' the messages of the film, listening to her speak about it crystallised them. If only the directors could do that after every film we watched!

Essentially it was modern society, need for fame/attention, technology, willingly losing privacy, inherent dangers.

I like it when someone, sounding very gung-ho and idealistic, asked the director how we could stop this from happening. I think he wanted the magic answer, the gem of wisdom. But she just kinda laughed. She acknowledged that you can't stop it, and that it's weaving itself more and more into our daily lives. It just is. We just have to be aware of the pitfalls as well as the good things.

Anyhow..... I'm glad I saw it, from a Media teacher point-of-view, even though it wasn't beautiful.

* * *

Live Theatre

I'm going to the ballet this weekend! Fun.

I was having a discussion with some English dept colleagues after school on Friday. They were talking passionately about their favourite ever theatre experiences and the shows that changed their lives. I sat quietly, hoping nobody would ask mine (I was totally blank about what I could offer up), but it came around to me and I said, 'Uh.... I saw Les Mis in San Francisco.... that was fun. I remember being fascinated by the attachments on the back of the seats that held opera glasses.'

I'm really a failure as an English teacher in this regard! It's during discussions like that that I feel very much like the daughter of an accountant, who liked doing maths at high school. Not like some dreamy Arts student.

I don't go to shows so much for the show itself, I just like the experience of live theatre. I like the feel of the seating, rationing my supply of chocolate raisins to try and last the entire film, trying to figure out where the stage entrances are hidden, watching the ushers guide late comers in with their torches. I could quite often have more fun observing and trying to figure out these kinds of things than I actually have watching the show.

I'm slightly Asperger's in spirit, in that I barely ever get carried away with the emotions of a show - I watch in a very detached, analytical manner. I could count the number of times I've cried during a film on one or two hands. I was reading a book by a guy with Asperger's who explained that he could feel sad for things that directly affected him, but could only ever fake being truly empathetic for other people going through the same thing.

For this reason, I'm that person who'll go to pretty much anything. I hold the ballet I'm going to on Saturday in fairly equal regard with the wrestling I went to, or the opera singer I saw for free during the holidays, or the school play I went to last year.

I like it when it's really amazing quality and you can appreciate the costumes and the charisma and the precision of it. But I also like the amateur.

I'm oversimplifying things there - I'm not totally heartless. It just seemed on the spectrum of things, I was a long way away from my booth full of passionate career-English teachers sharing a drink on a Friday afternoon.

Capping - turning unpopularity into a game!

Update: First elimination has happened. I have calculated six more reasonably easy eliminations to come. Then it would get harder.

When I first joined Facebook my 'friends' list increased exponentially in those first few weeks. Then I reached 50, 60, 70. It slowed down then - I'd 'friended' the people I liked from high-school, a few uni and t-coll friends, couple of people from work, flatmates, netball friends..... I stagnated around 80 and limped towards 100. Rather than feel friend-envy when I look at people like Morgan and Fish, with their hundreds and hundreds of friends, I have decided to market myself as 'exclusive'.

Yeah.... I'm not unpopular..... I'm just picky......

I have decided to put a cap on my Facebook friends.

I am going to remain steady at 80 friends. It's a modest total, but I seem to keep culling back towards it, so maybe it's my optimum number of contacts.

Any time I get a new 'friend' request, I will have to delete someone who has been idle.

It's like that theory on keeping your house clutter free (every time you buy something new, you have to get rid of something else).

I mainly like it because I will get to enact my own little game of Survivor. KATE HAS SPOKEN! And for the most part, the eliminated competitors will be none the wiser.

I have already had my first round of eliminations, to get from about 85 down to 80. It was mainly people I'd met once at a party, or people I wasn't even really friends with at high school, and haven't seen since. People who I suspect are using me to bulk up their own numbers. People who have never commented on anything of mine, or left a message or chatted to me. People whose inane quiz results annoy me. People who probably haven't noticed they're not my 'friends' anymore anyhow. People whose status updates, notes, photos, events and fan-groups don't interest me.

It was a good trade. The new 'friend' has already commented on my stuff several times. It makes me feel popular and interesting. While I have only met the guy twice, he's thus-far earning his place on my 'friends' list. I may even invite him to my next 'event' or maybe tag him in a meme-thingie I do. He does take a lot of quizzes, though, so his active Facebooking has a negative trade-off.

If you read my blog, you are probably not on the chopping block because you are in my sphere of actual contact (maybe). For now.




Now I just have to sit back and wait a few months til my next new friend comes along.........


* * *

And I just followed a link from My Little Teapot which is hilarity and genius using an old-school book about cats and a manic little girl. Nothing more.

Spree

I just went into town with the thought in mind that I had a healthy bank balance and deserved to treat myself.

And that I did. Boys may want to stop reading now.

Stop 1: Magnolia (Tory St)

Finding that Miss Wong was closed, I popped into Magnolia.

Purple Necklace: You keep necklaces forever. They're a good investment. And it was fairly cheap ($25) and the colour of the season! And it kinda clinks when you move.

Cards: Cheap way to jazz up your walls at home. I already have one from this series.

Stop 2: Eyeball Kicks (Upper Cuba St)

Print: I was in there earlier in the holidays and saw a series by some local artist. Have not stopped thinking about them - so bit the bullet and bought one. Pretty. Need to get it framed now. The artist seems to specialise in domestic scenes, done from bird's eye or high-angle views, focusing on the objects and rooms, rather than the people and faces. I like how they look - there are lots of other ones I'd get if I was feeling more extravagant. The scene seems familiar. Sushi party at home or in a local restaurant. Bottles of wine, a camera sitting on the table ready to take some snaps. It captures a slice of my life and I like how all the little objects tell a story. And it has pretty greens.

Stop 3: Madame Fancy Pants (next door to previous)

Notebook: To give my colleague as a present when she finally launches her book. It's very cute with flowers and stuff on it. I figure it's an appropriate gift for writer - and it was 15% off.

New skirt - very full, with spots. I may regret that purchase. It looks kinda different at home, more 'hippy'- maybe at least I'll wait a few kgs til I give it an outing..... The changing room in the shop was kinda limited, so I think I didn't get a great angle.... Or maybe I was feeling optimistic. Anyhow, I have way too many black/dark-grey skirts, so it's a nice change of colour and pattern. It'll work in summer and spring.

Stop 4: Frutti (Cuba St)

I love Frutti. While its stuff is not necessarily the best quality (some of it is, but they have heaps of different local designers, so it varies, and it's all pretty affordable) you can get really interesting colours and cuts.

Green top - It has a giant pouch pocket and drapes really nicely. I am a sucker for anything that comes with pockets (shirts, dresses, skirts)! Essential. I like to think it matches my eyes. And it's what I like to call a 'fat-day-friendly-top'. Can't get enough of those!

Purse -I like the vintage look fabric in muted greens and blues. I like it because it's more of a clutch sized purse - a good size for going out at night. And it has a little strap just big enough to put it over your shoulder. Bags are another thing a girl can invest in and keep for years and years. It's the kinda thing you often scrimp on, but you use it every day - so might as well have one that makes you smile when you see it (yes - I am a consumer).

Scarf - A bright pashmina. It's nice to see and it's soft to touch. And I'm sick of wearing greys and blacks every day. Bring back a bit of colour! It smells pretty too.

And then I figured I should go home before I spent any more. Hooray for being a grownup with money! I really should have gone to the shoe shop first and just bought that pair of brown boots I was meaning to get to..... maybe next week....

Film Fest Cont.

Adventureland

Saw the second of my four planned Film Fest outings with Rich and Sam.

I liked it! Quite different to the other one - this fell gently into the 80s nostalgia rom-com category, but it was nicely done. It didn't 'tell' too much and had cute characters. The main character, James, reminded me of guys I've dated. Smart, nice, and with a certain look.

It certainly brought back memories of awkward, but gorgeous, fumbles into romance I had in my 20s. I miss that. Dating now is so.... transactional? Dates seem more like job interviews than organic things.

There were lots of other relatable moments too. I liked that the main character was trying to find a summer job, but realised that while he had an ivy league degree in comparative literature, he wasn't even qualified for manual labout (hence having to work at 'Adventureland'). I have an English degree - similar thing. And the main girl character's mum had just died and she was dealing with the home situation after that (photos of the new wife, but none of her mother up anymore), which I was sympathetic to.

We agreed that the ending was a bit convenient. Maybe would have worked if it hadn't ended as happily, rather just with the 'it was one of the best summers of my life, even though I never saw her again' message.

Diving Back In

Pros

1. I achieved a lot more by 1pm than usual.

2. I am teaching 'Amelie' to my Year 12s and that's a delight - they like it. They were actually physcially excited to be doing a film study.

3. Some of my naughties were doing grammar work in a write-in book and said it was 'fun'. Heck yeah - prepositions and conjunctions rock.

4. I got to hear lots of feedback from staff and students about the new Harry Potter film, which I haven't seen yet. It's all good.

5. Cute assignment with ribbons, put together in a booklet that folds out like an accordian.

6. My time-table this term has 5/10 days where I have last period off! I can go shopping or get home in time to enjoy sunlight.

7. I did a collage on my rollbook cover at the end of last term, and it still makes me smile. Pretty colours.... shiny.....

Cons

1. Work emails. Ugh. They're all telling me about meetings and new projects and usually they're sent twice because people forgot the attachments.

2. People asking, 'So did you have a good holiday? Do anything exciting?'

3. Children who were away, possibly with the swine, at the end of last term and come up to me when I'm in the middle of calling the roll to ask if they can have any work they missed.

4. Timetable changes that mean my class didn't realise they had English today and came without their folders.

5. Children who haven't properly started their assessments (due in two weeks), thus worrying me slightly.

6. Parent interviews are this week. Oops - forgot about them.

Weekend Things

1. Film Fest - Off to a Rip Roaring Start

I saw my first fil-um (two syllables) last night with Richard and Sam. It was the sci-fi thriller, 'Moon'. To be honest, I'd had very low expectations. Whenever people had asked what I'd be seeing, they looked at me strangely, as if to say, 'And that's something you want to see? Why?'. I just kinda shrugged and mumbled, 'I dunno. Film Fest.'

But I really liked it. It's a neat little low-budget ($5m, 33 day shoot) film. I've never seen the whole of 2001 but I imagine it has similarities. I read that he was in a way paying homage to those older space sci-fis of the 70s. It was a true sci-fi, rather than the lesser space-opera genre (which, other than Star Wars, I avoid). The special effects were really old-school - they actually used miniature models for the outside scenes of the moon, which worked surprisingly well. Kinda quaint.

The look of it all was minimalist. While it was stark, sterile white there was a grittiness to it, with what I assume was moon-dust coating the space suits and drips of coffee smeared on the GERTY computer which kept the astronaut company. I like that GERTY and the other technological aspects were also fairly low-tech things you could imagine being made right now on earth. If anything they were even more low-tech that what is already achieveable, keeping that old-school feel. No hovercrafts or conveyor belt footpaths. Even the graphics on the computer screens looked like something from a C64, in a good way. I liked that - a lot of sci-fis get so distracted with coming up with new, slick gadgets and trying to make the CGI convincing that they lose site of trying to have an actual plot to support their visual cleverness.

The film has lots of psychological and ethical issues that it explores. According to IMDB, the tagline is 'Moon: It's the last place you'd expect to find yourself'. That works on a few levels. Essentially, the film is about the sole man working up on the moon harvesting H-3, some kind of wonder-helium that now powers 70% of the world. This is something they are actually working on at NASA, where the film had a special showing at the request of a boss-man there.

He is coming to the end of his 3 year term and is understandably feeling the effects of having been isolated so long. He is an employee of some international corporation that seems to be cutting corners and is reluctant to upgrade the base. He spends most of his days talking to the plants (who have names) that he is lovingly growing and watching reruns of Bewitched on a tiny screen. Always in his slippers.

The film rests heavily on the performance of Sam Rockwell, who I have to admit I'd never heard of before. He's great! His character has to convey a lot of layers and changes, and he does it well. I liked him best in his degenerative state, where he constantly has blood dripping down the side of his face, soaking into his t-shirt and spends most of his time playing with a ratty bandage that is half coming off his hand. It adds some nice black humour to the film.

It's a film where you have to care about the fate of the characters, and I did. It does get thrilling as you discover a few twists and watch to see how they affect things. All the while, Kevin Spacey's monotonous voicing of the GERTY computer provides an interesting and comical side-kick to the lead character.

Anyhow, really good film. It was better than most of the things I saw at last year's festival. It's the first film from a young British director who happens to be David Bowie's son (though I only found this out after researching it a little last night - it wasn't part of the advertising of the film, with the kid we knew growing up as 'Zowie Bowie' now going by 'Duncan Jones', a rather more sensible sounding name).

2. Our Animated, Fun-Loving Prime Minister

I really don't like having John Key as our nation's leader.

I have seen him several times in the last few weeks doing 'silly' things. The media seems to love showing him in this 'personable' light. He is at a kindy, caught in the middle of a tiff between two boys, smiling away. Then he's getting down and dirty tackling a sheep, or kicking a rugby ball. A few weeks ago he was drinking kava on a tropical island.

The media seems intent on showing him as this kind of mild-mannered, fun-loving everyman.

When was Helen Clark ever afforded this image? She may not have angled for quite so many cutesy PR events, but if she did I doubt it would have got quite so much coverage. I guess she might've had more of that stuff when she was a 'new' prime minister. Certainly all I have in my recent memory banks is footage of her having to grimly defend herself against criticism. No frolicking with animals and children allowed.

There was a nice bit on her on stuff today, though. It emphasises that she was much nicer in person, but didn't cash in on that image in public, where she was stern and serious. Maybe a statement on how women have had to put on that brave face, rather than act silly with the media, in order to be taken seriously?

Under this kooky exterior, Key is meanwhile making awful policies that hurt the average New Zealander. He's cutting funding to the arts, reversing the focus of our whole educational system. Pretty much running our country like it's a billion dollar business, forgetting (or consciously avoiding) the other obligations of a responsible government. I think this 'fun' media coverage is a cheap distraction from all of the serious, hugely affecting changes he has very quickly pushed through with relatively little debate.

In some way it may be the fault of the new Labour leaders that there isn't much of an opposing voice out there. They seem to lack the charisma or political nous to get themselves heard very effectively. It pains me to think this way, but I have my moments of wishing Darren was a more senior member. Despite some of my arch-nemesis interactions with him at school, I've never questioned his ability to speak eloquently, with humour and with a charisma that belies his somewhat homely looks.

Key reminds me of George Dub-Ya. At first I thought he was this harmless, kinda idiotic seeming man. He was depicted in the media this way. Then I found out that beneath that kindly-uncle-like exterior he was doing all kinds of awful, immoral things. The fact that he did them all with that bumbling, placid exterior made them all the scarier. It was like the horror films of the 1970s where cute little kids and leprachauns were becoming villians.

It makes me grate my teeth. I miss Helen. At least she spoke in a way that didn't make me cringe in shame of our accent.

Footnote: This Finlay Macdonald article is actually critical of Key. Some logic! I think Finlay is one of my favourites.

3. I will Not Tolerate Lactose

I am developing a theory that I may be lactose intolerant. I was googling it last night and a couple of the symptoms sounded familiar.

I'm going to start experimenting on myself.

I'd quite like to have one of those trendy, new-age dietary issues. If this works out for me, I might look into that whole gluten thing next.

A Day of Etiquette

Laundromat

I went to the laundromat today. I had a load of sheets and my duvet cover. It had to be dried, ASAP.

I had driven past last night at 10pm, thinking it would be dead. Not the case. Evidently, Reidun tells me, there is a late night laundry culture in H-town that I have been oblivious to. It's the crowd that go after the kids are in bed. I had to sleep with (gasp) no duvet cover! My duvet was naked and vulnerable.

Anyhow, I went today instead and found it very stressful. I like a quiet, empty laundromat, where I can read my book or watch my all the clothes spinning around peacefully. Today it was packed - there were queues of baskets waiting for driers and little kids running around and people eyeing up my drier as soon as it started slowly down. I had a moment of understanding why someone would be claustrophobic. Home seemed like a nice, distant haven.

There is a strange, largely unspoken, etiquette in place at the laundromat. I am mostly a stranger to it, but I am beginning to understand. Discussing it with Reidun, again, we came up with some grey areas where people seem to push the boundaries.

1. The Slow-Unloader

I observed two young kids unloading a machine. I thought, 'Goodie - I'm can use that in a minute or two.' But they took forever. Every towel was painfully folded and carefully put in the basket. And the kids kept looking expectantly over at some adult, over by the washing machines. They finished unloading, closed the door to the empty drier, but wouldn't move away. They stood guard in front of it. I realised their parent had another load in the washing machine, which was up to spin cycle, so they'd been killing time, protecting their drier for the next load.

Is that ethical? Can you bags a drier over multiple loads when there are people waiting, even thought it's sitting there idly?

Not knowing the etiquette well enough, I sat and waited.

2. The Multi-Loader

How many driers can one person take up? I understand that if you get there and there are several empty, and nobody is waiting, you can go crazy. Put one sock in each one, for all I care. But as soon as there is a queue, should you be allowed to grab any more driers than what you're already using? Should you be allowed to jump up as soon as another one becomes free, ahead of someone who's come in after you with only one load?

There seems to be a bit of this going on too. People have rubbish bags full, and more in the car.

3. Who's Next?

There is no obvious system. I like a lineal arrangement, or numbered tickets. At the laundromat you just have to remember who walked in, in what order. You sit randomly across the room, depending on what chairs are free. While some chairs face the driers, others face the washing machines, so you're having to constantly crane your head back to glance for driers slowing down. If you miss that five second window of opportunity, you go to the back of the line again. Nobody's gonna say, 'I think you're next' if you have your head down in the book. It's a free for all. And then the matter of multi-load washers confuses the order even more.

I find that once someone has unloaded their drier, you wait a few seconds, then stand up. That signals you are interested. If more than one person stands, it's a face-off. Sometimes the person who's just unloaded their machine will look around and give someone the nod, if they have a favourite person in queue. So it's good to make laundry-buddies.

4. The Fake Finish

I don't trust coin operated machines. I strongly suspect that if I put four coins in at the beginning, it would still stop after five minutes and I'd have lost my precious $1 coins. So I put in two coins to start with, then one at a time after that. This means that there are intervals where my machine stops. At these times I feel the eyes of the laundromat simultaneously turn towards my machine. I have to stand up and open the door and do the over-acted action of 'checking if it's dry'. Give it a good pat down, take out a few items, then kinda shake your head. Feed in another coin and feel the collective groan of the onlookers. I feel a little guilty to fake them out like that.

If it was a sci-fi film, they'd all turn out to be zombies and pounce on me at that moment.

Lido

After my stressful afternoon at the laundromat I headed in to town to meet a couple of friends for dinner and drinks before some opera singing at the Town Hall. We agreed to meet at six.

I know this is a tricky time to get a table there, but luck would have it that as I entered, a table of four was leaving. So I grab my table. Enough seats for me and my two friends. Phew. Now all I have to do is hold it until they arrive. Let the battle begin.

I waited for 20 minutes until the first one arrived. In the meantime I had deja vous of my evil laundry stares. Everyone who came into the restaurant, which was full, would eye up my empty seats. The waitors anxiously came over and asked if I was waiting for people, then went away, several times. I felt like announcing, 'I was on time! We agreed to meet at six! It's not my fault they're late!'

A couple came over and said, 'Do you mind?' as they started pulling away one of the tables. I reached out desperately and said, 'Uh sorry - I have friends coming.' The lady continued pulling, saying, 'When are they coming?' in an accusing tone (I kid not) and luckily at that moment one of them turned up and I was able to say, 'Uh - one of them's right behind you.' She grumbled at me and went off to sit back at the bar.

I felt very unpopular. Then the other friend didn't come for another half hour and people eyed up the other two empty seats, jealously.

It's all too stressful! Next time I'm going to purposefully be the late one :) No more seat-saving for me.

Opera

Then, we got to the Town Hall, and were happy to realise our seats were all next to each other (we'd got them free at work). Row A, seats 17, 18 and 19. It took us quite a while to figure out what door to go in, assuming we were up the top, towards the back or something.

Turns out we were in the very front row, exactly in the middle. We were literally underneath the singer's microphone. We could see up her skirt, see the sweat drip down the side of her face. We had to crane our necks up, like we front row at a multi-plex cinema. Evidently that's where they sit the free-tickets people. I felt like I was one of the commoners at The Globe penny-seats.

Quite exciting in a way - none of her the nuances of facial expression were lost on us. No sir.

But the bad bit was that it meant we had to be angels. No texting. No fidgeting. No yawning. No whispering. We had to look up intensely and act touched by the emotion of it all (none of us being opera regulars understood anything that was going on and the first half was all in non-English). All of the more serious fans were up in the gods [correction, the dress cirlce, thanks Andrew], having purchased tickets before they announced there were free ones for staff. So it was just us free-loaders in the front row, with all our colleagues looking down from above. We had to be serious! And the three of us are the ones who usually sit in the back corner during staff meeting, doodling and stifling giggles. We are not front row people. Someone was trying to punish us.

At the interval we got ice creams. But then the dinging sound started, so we had to go back to our seats. We immediately looked at each other and said, 'We have to eat our icecreams in front of her! Is that etiquette?' Through her first two songs we sat there, eating our tiny tubs of icecream with our tiny spoons, trying to catch the drops of chocolate syrup before anything disastrous happened. All underneath the eyes of the diva herself. It felt wrong.

It was fun though and the Town Hall was packed. She sang two hours or so of opera classics and jazz songs. She's an old girl from our school and earlier this year won the same NZ contest Malvina and Kiri won on their rise to stardom.

I liked all her pretty outfits. She had five costume changes.

Bible Names = Good

This article in Stuff today seemed to me to have maybe a teensy-weensy-giantastic ethno-bias to it.

1. Good Names

Take the three names sinlged out as 'safe' to give boys. Joshua is apparently not a common name for crims to have - it means 'God is my salvation'. Michael means 'like God'. And Christopher means 'followers of the Christ'. Co-incidence? Hmm.

Then take some of the baddie names. The ones to avoid!

2. Bad Names

They danced around the topic but I know who the most famous Kareem in the western world is and I know when and why he changed his name.... He's black. Proudly black. And Malcolm X, co-incidently, also has a criminal's name, huh. And I'm trying to think of the most famous Tyrell I know.....

Though it's not just black names they're pointing out there - Britney's baby's name is in the top ten. White trash names also lead to criminality.

3. A Criminal by any other Name..... would be as guilty?

Yet there is little reference to 'other' factors. What percentage of the prison population are black? How many are from low socio-economic backgrounds? And who are these names 'uncommon' to - maybe the target audience of Fairfax? Hmmm.

Don't go running into those bad neighbourhoods preaching to pregnant teenagers that they should call their unborn sons 'Michael' and all will be well.

They maybe need to look more closely at the cause and effect there, before readers start scratching 'Luke' off their baby-names lists (not that they'd have it on their list in the first place, obviously - sounds like a mechanic or something - uh, I mean so 'uncommon' and 'feminine').

I'm sure that article caused a chuckle though. Uncle Peter pointing it out to Auntie Margaret, saying they always knew those relatives with the 'made-up' names who live out the Hutt somewhere were bound for trouble. Made-up names. Tsk-tsk.




'Clayton' is a kinda girly name. Maybe that's what turned him to the dark side..... Maybe he can accuse his parents of provocation now.....

My dad's name is 'Mervyn'. I'm gonna see what's buried under the house next time I'm home. He can't possibly be law-abiding with a name like that.

* * *

Unrelated Success

And my very unevil step-mother, Lynne, has won a writing competition! I mentioned her a couple of blogs ago. This is her first 'win'! It's a foot in the door.

She is being flown up to Auckland for a ceremony next week, her and my dad's accommodation paid for.

Very proud.

I know some talented, creative people. A lot of them are English teachers.... Co-incidence? I think not.

In a 'small world' incident last night.....



Turns out a friend of my flatmate's lives next door to where my ex-boyfriend used to live. And she heard him and a mate sitting outside smoking, discussing two girls he was 'juggling'.



One of those girls was me.



Ouch.



Makes me glad to be well clear of that situation now. F***er.