For Svend

Not sure if you even read my blog really!

But for some reason my computer is repeatedly getting errors when I try to comment on your blog.

You mentioned how a film or book becomes suddenly popular when it is mentioned on the National radio show. Same goes for websites. One of the guys helping us build our website was telling us how the hits on the National website get so high when it's mentioned on a show (ie "A link to that article can be found on our website.....") that if the techies are fiddling around with the website or updating it they ask the presenters to not mention any links during that show, else everything gets messy.

* * *

Cold eh. I didn't even go outside today - but any time someone opened the lounge door I felt a cold swoosh of air that made me want to stay inside.

* * *

Pecha Kucha on Wednesday. Me and Reidun are going, anyone else is welcome to come along too. We went to the last one and found it an interesting way to spend a night hearing about stuff you would otherwise not. I think there were two pretty awful speakers, but the rest were at least mildly interesting and a few were great (12 in total). Not a bad night for $7.

An added point of interest for me is that my old flatmate Simon's brother is one of the speakers (you may remember good old Simon, or 'The Baron' as we liked to call him - and no, it's not the brother Nicky hooked up with and it's not the brother Nicky thought she hooked up with either - it's the other brother).

Potato the Racehorse.

So I'm female-frisbee MVP three weeks running. I don't care that there aren't many girls on the team or that my students may have given it to me out of fear/loyalty this week...... I'm expecting some kind of giant cup at the end of the season. GIANT!

Kyle has started calling me 'The Glacier' due to my preference to not move quickly on field. Jon also said today, in response to me saying I 'ran fast' at one point, that he would 'pay to see that'. They're all just jealous that they're not three-time-MVPs...... I am fast like lightening.

* * *

I have stopped grooming my hair this week. No straightening. Going to bed with it wet, so I wake up and it's CRAZILY going in all different directions. I might look a bit hobo-ish. It's just gotten so long and split-ended that it's gross, and frankly there's nobody I'm trying to impress at the moment! I'm getting it cut this weekend and then it will be shiny and new and I will regain my interest in grooming.....

Just explaining, in case anyone had noted that I look somewhat haggard. I think it sticks out in odd directions when I put it in a ponytail too.... And it's only just gotten long enough to do that, and I'm gonna whack it all shorter again.

To get a fringe or not to get a fringe, that is the question.

* * *

The censorship discussion continued for a while on my students' blog-site. One of them brought up the case of her creative-writing being challenged for having the word 'crap' in it, by the Min of Education who were putting it in a resource for schools. She made the point that putting something like 'baloney' in there instead would make the story not sound like a genuine teenage voice anymore.

I agree.

But I had to secretly take glee in the fact that I have been editing school magazine articles, and replacing low-level swearwords like that with silly alternatives, which will sound funny coming from them.... like 'jolly' and 'blimin'..... The power goes to my head! One of the kids asked if she could add a middle initial to her name, 'E', at the bottom of her article. I let her, because that reminded me of the kid from the MAD Magazines. What was it - Edward E Neuman?

* * *

I went to Simply Paris for lunch today (between mad-cap magazine crisises). It was civilised. I imagine that's what 'normal' people (non-teachers) do most days..... I had a salmon panini, mocha (with a chocolate covered coffee bean) and an almond croissant (to go).

* * *

I took my book to work today, thinking optimistically that I might sit down and read it at lunch-time (I had pictured a more leisurely day than I eneded up having - what with 80 pages of proofing arriving, which I had promised I could do within the day it arrived, thinking it would arrive in smaller chunks).

It is very very fat and looked impressive sitting on my desk. It made me look in-tell-ec-tu-al. I feel like a kid I taught once, who was barely literate, but insisted on picking the fattest book in the school libarary, then pretending she'd read it (to impress me, though I didn't believe her for a second). It's so fat it would make a good door-stop, or brick. My HOD saw it and asked if she could borrow it after me, then she remembered I'm not a fast reader and said she might just go ahead and buy her own copy..... I have so far read 54 pages out of 738. I'm not even up to the bit about the Columbine killings, which is what triggers the main aftermath and trauma plot.....

I might wear my 'smart-glasses' when I finally get time to read it in my lunch-hour. Though, one of the lenses has fallen out, which somewhat detracts from my smart-fascade.

I strained a calf muscle at basketball.  I asked my doctor if this was a sign that I shouldn't play sport any more, at my age.  He said not necessarily - such things can be random.

Two days later I strained a back muscle.

Hmm.

* * * 

I have been watching King of Thrones.  It's good.  A bit of a change of pace from Gossip Girl, anyway.

* * * 

I lost my keys.  Then I found them.  Phew.  At the restaurant.

I was afraid my long claim to have never lost anything important was at an end.

* * * 

It's exciting that there is a new Nood store in town.  Right next to Michelle's house.

* * * 

I read a Wally Lamb book.  It was underwhelming.  And had lots of printing errors.   I was hoping that they'd cleverly fit into some theme that I hadn't picked up on.... but I'm pretty sure they didn't.

I'm wondering if the books of his I read that I loved, years ago, would still be good now (if I read them as a proper grown-up).  

* * * 

I dropped my dad at the air-port today.  They were running terribly late.  They were supposed to check-in at 9am, and they only woke up in Levin at 7.34am.  When I left them Lynne was saying, 'I can't breathe..... my shoe's not on.... can't breathe....' and she limped off with her shoe half on.  Dramatic entrance, dramatic exit! 

Then I got to drive their fancy car home.  It is a huge 4WD - the kind you accidentally run over small children in.  It has a sun roof.

* * * 

Evidently I can't watch King of Thrones and blog at the same time.  I have had to rewind the same bit four times now.  Still can't figure out why the Snow boy is attacking people.... 

Oh, something about calling his father a traitor.  

Here comes a wolf.  I like the wolves.

* * * 

Now that my phone consistently turns off while I'm in the middle of using it, I'm thinking of getting a new one.  Maybe a 'smart' one.  I'm unconvinced of the need for an 'i' phone.  Though everyone I know raves about them and hasn't regretted getting them.

* * * 

The Dark Knight is rising.  That's something to look forward to after all the crap that's been on.

So at 3am on Monday morning I was sitting up in an ED ward at Palmerston North Hospital, reading a book of Leonard Coen poetry I happened to have in my bag to try and keep awake.

* * *

I'd arrived at my Dad's for a visit, and soon after my step-ma had emerged from her nap saying she couldn't breathe. She was walking and taking very short breaths, but they sounded really gurgly, like there was fluid in her lungs. She'd been to the doctor and got steroids for asthma symptoms earlier in the day.

So at 10.30 or so an ambulance came, then I had to drive Dad up to Palmy following it. I hate driving country roads at night, so that was especially not fun. We then sat in the ward waiting for a doctor to see her for from 11.30pm til 3am.

There was only one chair, so we had to take turns sitting. I perched up on the end of Lynne's bed reading my poetry as she took a nap, having been somewhat relieved by the oxygen and medicine they gave her.

Luckily I had thought to bring some snacks in case we were there for a long time. I wasn't particularly useful, other than packing snacks and putting together an overnight bag for Lynne. Clean pjamas are important when you have vomited lung-mucus on your old ones. And a change of real clothes in case it was daylight by the time she was released. And a tooth brush. And she had requested perfume, though that may have just been a slightly disoriented suggestion. I packed it anyhow.

Once the doctor came and decided to admit Lynne, me and Dad drove home, since she was being taken off for x-rays and all that guff.

It was very foggy on the drive home, which played further on my dislike of country roads at night. We listened to the Forrest Gump sound-track, which is inappropriately uplifting in that context. 'Joy to the World' seems wrong to be singing along to after you've just admitted your wife to hospital.

Turns out she has pneumonia. Again. Third time.

I must explain that while it's always horrible when someone's in pain and shock, that there was a four week period a few years ago where she was in hospital four times (each for something different). Her poor old body is a bit rubbish, mostly because of nerve damage in her back.

Hospitals are nothing new to dad and me. We used to have to drive up to see Mum in there every day after school. 40 minutes each way.

And since then Dad and Lynne have had about four operations between them.

This is the first time I've seen triage up close. It was interesting. Then boring. And a bit frustrating. Patch 'em up, then leave 'em for a few hours.

It's simultaneously frustrating and satisfying when the doctor then decides to admit the person you're with. It'd be much easier to just take them home with you now (especially when you live in a different town) but it's good to know that you weren't over-reacting and there is actually something legitimately wrong.

Dad left messages with her kids the next day, but left them on the wrong types of phones. One he left on a cell-phone, but she hadn't been checking her voice-mail all day. The other he left on a land-line but they were actually on holiday (ironically drove back from Taupo to Wellington that day, so could have stopped in to visit her on the way....).

You can but try.

I bought her some trashy magazines and kept Dad company at home the next night.

Dramas eh.

My nana died today.  Grandma died at the end of last term.

Strange how they both died within a couple of months of each other.  Grandma was four years younger, at a mere 92 years old.

Nana had been quite disoriented for a while, not always recognising visitors and fixating on certain childhood memories.  Dad says the last time he saw her she was not really looking like herself.

Now I'm down two direct relatives.  Just Dad and David.

I think my enduring memory of Nana will be her standing outside her house, right on the top of the Maungaraki hills, pulling her cardigan tight against the wind, and waving until we'd driven off.  Tiny little lady with white hair.

Old and Young

A fellow from work was performing last night at a private-ish function in town. A few of us went along to support him (he hasn't performed much in the last few years and he's quite excited about it).

It was hilarious! It was at Dockside and the function was fenced off from the rest of the bar by some waist-high barriers. So we sat right beside the barrier, feeling like slight social pariahs.

The people at the function (which was a mystery to us - we spent a good hour watching the dynamics and debating whether it was a work thing or a family thing - strange mix of old and young) were for quite a lot of time largely ignoring the musicians. But we, from the far end of the function were watching them and cheering loudly between songs (from behind our barrier).

We got some odd looks, but never once did any of the invited-ones ask us to come over the barrier and join them. It was very much us-and-them.

There was one great old guy who got the dancing started, but obviously found the music a little loud and indiscreetly held his fingers in his ears the whole time. THAT is the anecdote that will be told in the staffroom on Monday (the finger-in-ears dancing started on one of the few songs our friend was lead singer for, at which point several of the oldies decided to coincidentally get up and leave as well).

There were three sets and Jonathan came over to us before the last one. We saw the playlist and decided we were finally going to get the courage to actually crash the engagement part to dance to the last five songs (starting with a kick-ass combo of Door Bell by the White Stripes and Living on a Prayer). The band was ok with this - they appreciated anyone dancing.

We were lead in by the Irish-man among us and indiscreetly danced at the front of the floor - on our own. Apparently this crowd did not like the White Stripes. The three of us loved it! WOO!

I was, incidentally, wearing a very loud orange dress, so blending in was not an option.

Luckily there was one ridiculously drunk guy and he acknowledged us and started dancing with us. Soon after that he discovered there was a slippery spot right in front of the band, and he started trying to slide over it, with disastrous effects. I eventually convinced him to at least put his glass down (after two against-the-odds falls where he managed to not spill a drop).

The women singing put in a few plugs for our friend (the keyboardists) where we got to cheer loudly.

Overall, it was hilarious and fun and the music was actually great. Thoroughly enjoyed it!

Two sides notes.

On the way out the door, a guy started chatting to us (at which point we all said 'Oh my god - how good was that band? Especially the keyboardist!'). And mid-conversation I realised he was mainly talking to ME and asking where we were going next. In a suggestive way. I do believe he was flirting with me! And he was a similar height, nice looking and had made a joke about politics..... I was quite shocked at how long it took me to realise he was flirting - I think it's been a while! My friends dragged me off before anything more, but it was still cute.

Then we went to that Japanese beer bar for another drink. Me and S. got IDed at the door. That again made me feel pretty good! As usual, the guy with us didn't get IDed because of his facial hair, but ironically he was the youngest in the group. His birthday is actually on February 29th, by the way - so he's turning 7 this year. That impressed me and S. - how many people do you actually know that are born on the leap-year day?

At that point my stomach started to protest against my partying ways. I had only had 3 or 4 ciders. But apparently that is enough these days. I had approximately 1 inch of my beer before realising that another gulp would tip me over the edge into messiness. Over conversations about the theme song to the Dog Show and what colours the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles were, I let my beer be consumed by the Irish-man (typically).

I was then driven home by a taxi driver who seemed almost too mentally slow to have a license. I realised that I have less trust for pakeha drivers than foreign ones. With foreign ones I always assume that they were doctors or academics before they moved to NZ and that they read intellectual novels between rides.

And then I went to bed.

And my calf muscles went into cramping spasms because they don't remember what this 'dancing' thing is. And I'd only danced five songs. I had danced very vigorously, to be fair - to show my appreciation to the under-appreciated band.

And while my head is fine, my body feels ridiculously bad.

And that is what going to Dockside at the age of 34 does.

The End.

It is my mum's death-day today.

I remember a really hard day on about the fifth anniversary when Dad had started dating his now-wife and he forgot about it. He had previously taken us to put flowers on her grave every December 14th. I had to go by myself. That made me feel very alone and was a good little illustration of the tensions between old and new.

My mum was a very good woman. She understood my shyness (though she wasn't in the least bit shy herself - she used to shock my brother and I with how brazenly she would strike up conversations with strangers). And she bought me poetry books by British authors when I was little. And she would always make some bits of coconut slice with just chocolate icing (no coconut on top) just for me, 'cause mums know just how you like things. When I was learning to read she wrote a book for me, with pop-up pictures and clues about our house and I had to read it and then go on a treasure hunt until I found my pocket money with the final clue. And I got star stickers for practising the spelling words she'd given me. She was an English teacher too.

Dads are good in their own way, but they're not mums.

23/11

It is my birthday today!

7.50am - Checked Email
I was hoping that today's morning meeting didn't involve me so that I could sleep in. I checked my emails while in bed, but it was bad news. No sleep-in for me! While doing this I noticed a few people had said happy birthday to me on the Facebook.

8.30am - Staff Meeting
I was moaning to the person next to me about having a relief after lunch so that I couldn't go out for a luxurious lunch. She swapped reliefs with me! I got to do a first period art lesson. Art is lovely to relieve! They were sketching each other. I read a chapter of my book and walked around making inane comments because I know nothing about art! It was good.

10am - Email
My Asperger's girl emailed me happy birthday - she'd told me she intended to do this, and by gum, she remembered. That was nice. Her birthday is exactly one week after mine, so I will return that favour.

11am - Stuff Quiz
Even though it's my birthday, I didn't do well on the Stuff quiz today. Our scores today ranged from 3-9, which is fairly low. I got 5.

12.30pm - Lunch
I snuck out for lunch with S. - everyone was teaching Period 4. We meant to go to Monteray, but it is open strange hours. To get out of the wind and rain we just went across the road to Simply Paris. It was delightful! Cosy and very French. I had risotto with free sneaky bread that the waitor brought us. He then snuck us an extra dessert to go - he's my favourite new French person! He even put his finger to his lip and said 'Shhhhh!' as he gave it to us, much like a mime.

2.30pm - No Work
I have no urgent work to do so I am watching one of my free online documentaries. Today I'm watching what the US Army has done in terms of trying to censor the depiction of war in films. It's professional development!

8pm - Kebab
I anticipate having my birthday kebab with Michelle et all between netball games. I will have a mixed vegetarian kebab. After my French chocolate pie pudding (which I am eating now) I don't anticipate being very hungry though.

Saturday - Dinner
And then on Saturday I will have my birthday dinner! At the moment it's all lovely people. That should be nice. And then we get to be sad about the politics and Labour losing everything :( Usually the only happy prospect is that Winston will lose, but even that seems unlikely (especially since he has proven he has the ability to rise zombie-like from the dead). The Stuff quiz tells me he is 66 years old (though I got that one wrong).

National does not really care about education. Not in a way that most teachers I know approve of. They tend to make changes based on what decile 10 parents lobby them about and secretly they'd just like to privitise everything.

You'd think that them announcing they're going to pump a BILLION dollars into education (announced somewhat like Dr Evil) would be a good thing..... that's a lot of money.....

But....

They're funding this through sales of SOEs, so it's a one-off deal (and it means that in the same breath they can brag about getting the goverment back into a surplus within three years).

And it's tagged with the scary phrase 'to transform and modernise education in NZ'. Coming from National that sounds ominous. I'm pretty sure they don't value the Arts or learning for the sake of analysis and higher level thinking..... I'm pretty sure they'd be happy with we produced an army of tech-savvy robots ready for the work-force.

I'm not sure what they have in mind, but I'm pretty sure I won't like it. It will involve more faddish 'self-directed learning' (without lowering student/teacher ratios to allow more time for the necessary individual learning programmes). It will also probably involve something that goes away from NCEA and back towards Bursary (I say that on no authority, just guessing because every year they introduce new ways of 'quantifying' achievement, going against the original philosophy of NCEA). They will obviously be more use of computers - but will they realise that computers are the medium, not the message?

As an English teacher, I can't envision how teaching kids to read and write is going to be revolutionised in the next decade or so. I know it's trendy to buy into all the future-learning buzz, but I'm kinda old school. I like it when they read things, and talk about them, and try to articulate their views using words. Sure they can read it on an ereader, and 'talk' about it using a google-doc or skype, and write about it on a blog...... but that's not really revolutionising the core skills and values of my subject. A lot of teachers have already experimented with those kind of things and decided they're ok

I suspect the revolutionary changes will be loosely based around some research done by NZ academics recently. Remember that it seems that academics and Ministry of Education workers have to justify their own existence by proposing research topics these days (rather than providing teacheres with actual, useful support). We have had a glut of it in recent years. Somebody, in a desperate attempt to save their own job, will have come up with some 'new' philosophy with bangs and whistles on it and made us all fill out a survey about it (bribing us with another 'bagel breakfast').

And the government likes to look like it's 'doing' something, so good old Ann will embrace it without a second thought. When questioned, she will point to the 'evidence' that it worked overseas - look, here's a schooul in some American ghetto school that had great success with this (when they were sponsored by Apple and each kid got a free laptop as bribery). If principals and teachers' unions say it's not actually a great new thing, she will ignore them. What do they know? Teachers always tried to make her feel stupid at school, so she decided at some point to never ever listen to them ever again.

Anyhow.

I am dubious.

And worried.

It may also involve remote-learning via hologram teachers. Actually, that's my best case scenario. I could teach from home and not wear pants (like the newsreaders).

I got my big Amazon package today. Lots of books and one DVD! I have read the first 10 pages of The Help and am liking it so far. Read it at Salvation with a soy latte while my washing was in the drier at the laundromat. Now I have all clean linen.

* * *

I like walking at night in Levin. It has a darkness and stillness you never find in the city. The roads are wide. And lemon-trees hang over the fences.

* * *

Today I was virtuous. I....

• went for a walk up Mt Vic and jogged most of the way down (I came back a windy way down Roseneath and kept seeing tradesmen and having to keep jogging past them so as not to seem unfit, when I really wanted to stop)


• did some dishes


• did my washing and dried it (duvet cover included)


• vacuumed and dusted my room (gave all my furniture a coating of wood polish)


• washed my hair (and dried it properly)


• watched Thor on DVD (and might return it only one day late!)


• payed the bills


• ate veges and nuts for my snack (grapes, baby carrots, almonds, cocktail tomatoes, celery, feta)


• hung up all my ironing (am without a basket of ironing in my room for the first time in ages)


• found a butterfly on the floor (from an earring)


• watched the 'Eat' part of 'Eat Pray Love'


• read a little bit of a book


• had a coffee


• had berries for breakfast (with yoghurt)

* * *

People with small children become very obsessed by their bowel movements.

* * *

The thing I liked watching most with the All Blacks was the bit where the ball was on the ground. In the game against Argentina I liked watching all the forwards standing there ready to pounce on defence. I liked to watch them organise the defensive line and space out.

* * *

My new dress is my Mad Men dress. It has a certain other-era quality about it. And it's orange and garrishly patterned. I don't have enough loud patterns in my wardrobe.

* * *

Even though Labour's policies are all superior, they won't get anywhere in the election. It all feels futile.

* * *

My basketball team has its final this week. We are in the C grade (by choice - we could probably be B grade if we really wanted, but we know that in B grade you end up having to play A grade teams as well and that's no fun).

I think we are statistically one of the best defensive teams in our grade. I take pride in that. I think our defence and our fast breaks are our strengths.

* * *

Levin's new sushi bar was good.

* * *

Me and my friend went for a sneaky beer at the Levin Club. It felt like some kind of secret organisation, hidden down a little side-alley. I didn't know anybody, but he pointed out all the people I should remember (or at least people's dads). I felt like a city spy. I always end up walking around Levin thinking 'I'm from here' in case anyone wonders. Nobody ever does.

Day 1 of Tetris retirement is going well. I did still drive to Queensgate, read my book and play basketball, so my OOS isn't as well rested as it could be. But I have severely limited typing and banned Tetris playing.

I was reading an article in Vanity Fair about the guy who created Zygna. And there was a little throwaway bit of narrative that said all the games required no skill, 'except maybe Tetris'. That made me proud. I like to think that puts me on the top rung of the Facebook games hierarchy.

* * *

I was reminded today that I hate hate hate the staff at Cue (Queensgate) with a vengeance. They are so predictably cloying! I'll grant that they are not as snobby as the Lambton Quay staff, but because their shop isn't as busy they harrass the heck out of you. I dread stepping out of my changing room to check the full length mirror because I know I'll be accosting by staff saying how good the dress looks (regardless of how it actually looks). My obvious signs of disengagements like avoiding eye contact and giving monosyllabic grunts in reply to their questions did not put them off either. I resented the fact that I actually found things I liked and had to buy them off them, just in case they're on comission.

It was not their 'charming' and overattentive service that made me buy the dress and belt. It was the quality of the tailoring! And the work-appropriate length of the hemline! And the fact that the belt matched my shoes! So there.

* * *

Our refs at basketball tonight were s***. I told them so many times throughout the game (without the expletive, but it was implied). The other team were pretty much grabbing our arms any time we caught a ball, so we couldn't even raise it to shoulder height to clear it. Constantly. And we quite politely, at first, told the refs to watch out for this. Then we got angrier. And possibly because of this, they called us for ticky-tack fouls down the other end.

The icing on the cake was at the end of the game when the other team had a freethrow. And on the second shot a ball came rolling in from the sideline (some kid had lost control of it). It rolled right into the key and across the baseline under the hoop. I pointed to it and looked at the ref, yelling something like 'Ball! Ball!'. He saw me. And let the game go on. I couldn't go in for the rebound because the ball on the ground was rolling to right where I would have stepped. So the other team got it, and scored on the put-back.

I was quite livid. I asked him why he didn't stop the game and he said, 'I only have to stop it if players are in danger.' How much more dangerous can it get than a ball rolling into the key as a freethrow goes up and six players are about to run in for a rebound????

So while we won the semi-final (actually reasonably convincingly) we were all pretty pissed off at the end of the game and I came home and ranted to my flatmates some more (I think they were polite but bored after the first minute or so).

A highlight for me was that I blocked a shot with my left hand, kinda instinctively. I never block with my left hand. But a girl was driving past on that side (to be fair I think I thought she was going to pass the ball, so was just putting a hand in the passing lane, then realised it was a shot and jumped). I was kinda suprised that she had the audacity to dare go in for a layup against me.

I blocked a lot of other shots (they were quite a short team) but the rest were with my right hand.

Ahh, Holidays.

I think my Tetris career has given me OOS. I will have to go into early retirement. The Tetris would will miss me - I was top 500 world-wide. Known primarily for my gutsy defensive game and ingenius use of the blue tetrimino.

I have prescribed myself a day of no computering and just video-watching tomorrow (even driving and book-reading hurt a little bit). I have 'Anti-christ', 'The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest', 'The Kids are Alright' and 'North by Northwest' lined up.

* * *

Another lady of leisure day.

9am - took my car in to get warrant and service at my place near the Basin Reserve. I like them. They're friendly shy sorts rather than bolshy car-guys. I have faith in nerdy mechanics.

9.15 - coffee at the Brooklyn Bakery (I prefer it to Cafe L.). Skim read some of the paper.

10-am - bought some socks at Farmers (overheard a tense conversation between employees that indicated some sort of power struggle) and new conditioner at Rodney Wayne.

11am - bought a fang necklace at Madame Fancy Pants.

11.50am - lemon honey drink at Memphis Belle. Actually a really great drink - came in a little glass jug and had good hunks of lemon in there for the 'homemade' feel and really cheap. Read some of my 'Beatles' book while I was there. The guy working there was really friendly and seemed to know most of his customers as regulars. A lot of people in well worn hipstery clothes in there (mainly in plaid shirts).

12pm - Area 51 sale. Got a few things I may or may not regret. Kate Sylvestor dress for $90 and Huffer shirt for $35. The dress is white. That is why I may regret it. It looks a bit nursy and I am bound to stain it quickly. But I tried it on once before and liked it, so it seemed like fate.

1pm - got car from the garage. Two new tyres and a bulb. The tyres were optional as they only just passed the warrant, but I like to be safe. Again I felt reasonably treated by my mechanics. I'll go back again!

1.30pm - popped into school to do some work that couldn't be done at home (just for half an hour). Managed to only have to say hello to the caretaker, who's nice anyway. I like to sneak in and out unseen.

3.30pm - coffee and a fritata at the Roxy cafe. Both really good - and the fritata was only $7.50 for a mini-meal sized portion. Read some more of my book.

3.50pm - watched Senna. Really enjoyed it. Also enjoyed the Roxy Cinema in general - lots of leg room and nice chairs. And the ambiance is just perfect for a cinema experience - nostalgic music, old movie posters down the hall-way.

6pm - watched the news and dissected Senna with my flatmate, who actually knows stuff about Formula 1 racing and had recommended the doco to me highly.

Package #1 has arrived from Amazon. I'm liking it so far - easy to read and well written. Set at the time when the Beatles were awesome (hence it's titled 'Beatles' - from a Norwegian author and translated into English). I sat in the lounge on the couch in a pool of sunshine and read it yesterday a bit.

I will be happy to lend it out at the upcoming Crafternoon/Bookernoon (bring books to borrow and lend - a friendlibrary). I may have read The Help by then (it's in Amazon package #2). Date is undecided - but me and Michelle and Karen were very excited about the idea of a bookernoon when we discussed it over our post-netball kebabs. She hadn't read The Book Thief so I said she must take that on the plane with her. Michelle hoped she could locate it in her crates of books at home. The Book Thief is also in my #2 order. I've read it but I feel it's one of those books you should own.

* * *

I have walked up Mt Vic two days in a row now. How very motivated of me! I am bloody unfit on the way up (there's a path goes up just before the tunnel on the Hataitai side, but it goes straight up) - the way down is a lot more fun.

Lies.

There was no reading of books.

Instead, I watched The History Boys on DVD with my flatmates. We liked it. I thought it was an interesting take of a few things. I found the teacher in me quite in conflict with the rather sensitive portrayal of Hector feeling up his students and the teacher agreeing to go for 'a drink' with his student at the end.

Maybe I'm just a prude. I don't really like any films that portray a romantic relationship between student and teacher (at high school age, anyhow). The power dynamics are just all wrong. And having taught teens for years now, I just fail to see them as emotional equals. So the dynamics are just all wrong. Very wrong. Makes me totally unsympathetic to the teacher-character.

Last Night

I wanted Thai food. A red curry. Or tom yum soup.
The wind was biting and I only had a cardigan over my summer dress,
which I stubbornly still wear.
I dug my hands deep into the pockets and shrugged down into my scarf.

But the Thai shop was closed. No sign or lights.
Disappointment. No other take-aways seemed quite right
last night.
Burgers seemed too bready. Fish and chips too greasy and yellow.
I decided on a saag curry.

Only females waiting in the shop.
Over the road, the men were getting greasy chips.
We sat, legs crossed, reading months old women's mags.
The woman next to me, in shiny maroon heels
tapped her feet in time to the Indian music.
So did I.
The old Indian lady walked out from behind the counter
to give us our food. Neatly stacked and tied up in plastic bags,
puffed out with steam.
I liked her.

To walk home quicker
I counted my footsteps, in multiples of 6.
I stumbled at 78 and 102. But in no time I was home.
And I'd barely thought of the cold.
Only counting up to 120 in time with my steps
over and over again.

Home to a gas heater, bottle transferred from the barbecue.
And my dark green curry, carefully forked onto naan bread.

And Shortland Street.
And cosiness in late April.

* * *

Small Confession

I have been using someone else's shower gel at work. I like the smell of it. I only use a squirt of it each time. I wonder whose it is.

* * *

Weeding through Memory Lane

I have boxes of things from Dad's house in my car. There is nowhere else to put them right now. I unloaded two of them already.

They had stacks of baby clothes knitted by my grandma (knitting for hypothetical great-grand-children she wished for when we were still children ourselves). And puppets sewn by my mum when we were little. And my dad's 7th form year-book. And my brother's teddy-bear. A genuine 1970s fondue cook-book. And a small white crocheted blanket made by my grandma, which I used yesterday while I was reading (after I'd washed it with my newly bought wool detergent). It has holes just big enough to poke your fingers through.

They were packed by my step-mother and have been in her grandson's flat in Petone for a couple of years (long story).

I haven't seen Ellie (my favourite stuffed animal) or my mother's wedding dress yet. But I think they're in there somewhere. Along with a bunch of crap that has followed me for years and needs to be culled.

And which will make me sneeze.

D add 9 - I DEFY YOU!

I have been practising the chord that stumped me yesterday (it is a good way to procrastinate intstead of marking essays). While my hand is blurry like The Flash, you can see when I deftly move up the fret bar for the D add 9 bastard chord. I WILL NOT BE DEFEATED!

A Mix of Old and New

I love my new little coffee table, 'Bookworm' (TM). Just right for my laptop and some magazines. I had a full sized coffee table in my bedroom and I was always having to shove it out of the way. I have more bedroom furniture ordered from Nood too. Watch this space! A sideboard. Very grownup.

Other People

My flatmate resigned from her job because it was more stressful than it was worth. She works in the education sector.

I can understand her reasoning.

If you're in education, it's generally 'cause you like the kids. Most people who leave a school will say, 'I'm not leaving because of the kids - they're great and I'll really miss them....' with the underlying message being that they're leaving because of the staff or systems at that school.

Stress is other people.

(And kids don't count as 'people' - it's a rite of passage for them to try and rile me and up and keep me on my toes.) Kids never really upset me. I have never cried because of something a kid has said or done - they're almost always transparently hormonal or testing out the limits. It can be explained away.

I like my job in many ways because I work really autonomously. Within a set of rules, I can do what I like, when I like, as long as I follow the right systems.

When other people don't follow the systems at work and when their projects encroach on my reasonably well-planned autonomy, it's annoying. If I stuff up, I'm totally willing to wear it and fix things and not complain. It annoys me when other people's stuff ups ruin my plans.

I hit my wall at work yesterday. I'd had a week full of people pushing their own things onto me - I was having to use all my non-contacts (and some after-schools) doing 'urgent' admin I'd only just received or found out about.

I used the 'f' word.

That's how annoyed I was.

Other people. Bleh.

I think my patience is a bit thin at the moment. I don't know if my work-place is any worse than any others - people are just people.

Luckily my class's plays were so humorously bad that I had a fun afternoon after my 'f-word' lunch.

One group hadn't properly rehearsed their costume changes, so kept exiting the wrong side and having to crawl 'discretely' across the stage in the middle of a scene. And one girl was left on stage by herself for an awkward amount of time, so she just started laughing manically (kinda in character).

Another girl is a great comedic actress, but unfortunately she was playing a relatively serious role (Viola in 'Twelth Night') so during her rehearsals I'd kept telling her to cut out the over-dramatic acting and remember she was supposed to be a servant ..... so somehow that translated in her mind as 'talk in a monotonous robot voice'.

Ah, the comedy of Shakespeare being done by Year 9s. Just as Shakespeare intended it.

* * *

I'm liking 'The Big C' (the TV show).

* * *

Yay for the Hobbit staying in NZ.

Boo for an odd precedent of corporations negotiating specialist treatment from the government. And boo that I am not studying the film industry this year with my class - would have been exam revision gold!

* * *

My cooking hobby continued with a successful ratatouille experiment. Roll over, pilaf, I have a new favourite dish. The only trouble with this one is that cutting up pumpkin is boring and stink. But it felt really healthy and was tasty.

Again my second attempt was more successful (though the first one was good enough) - I roasted the pumpkin a bit more and the taste and texture was superior. Also I cut the red onion up a bit more chunky.

* * *

I was bored the other weekend so reactivated my profile on a dating site. I haven't had any inspiring messages .... but for the first time ever, I got sent a random mean message.

It was really weird. This guy sent a one sentence message saying he didn't like the expression I had in one of my photos (except in words not so nice as that). It was overtly rude, rather than 'cheeky'.

I was taken aback in that a) this is a site this guy was paying to use (so he wasn't a teenager or anything) and b) why would he feel the need to randomly message a stranger that??? and c) if you're going to insult someone, you'd think you'd at least say something better than 'your expression looks dumb in one of your photos'.

So I had a quick look at his profile and saw that he'd come across as really pretentious and had said he was a 'sophisticated' guy and sent back something like 'Wow, can see your claim to be sophisticated is not false advertising'.

Today he sent back another message saying 'Well, you don't look sophisticated in your picture - you look like a retard'.

Maybe Paul Henry is masquerading as a 30-something year old single Wellingtonian now that he has extra time on his hands, trolling dating sites. Maybe he could be my new boyfriend.

Odd.

Today's Song

Today I am playing this song, one of the ones I found a couple of days ago. Notice I did a fancy 'special effect' so it looks like I'm in the olden days. I had to hum to keep the time properly. That's what the pros do! I also had my screen tilted down to focus the camera-thing on Larry, which meant I couldn't really see the lyrics and chords on screen that good.

The hardest things in this song are
a) The Dadd9 chord - you will note I just ignore this and do D instead :) Dadd9 is on the 6th fret and it just slows me down way too much with my beginner skills.
b) The 'dead or alive' bit at the end - there are three really quick chord changes here on DEAD or A LIVE (C/F/D). I messed up the last chord the first time but got it better the second (right at the end).

This is the only take I could be bothered doing because it is very long. YouTube thought I was playing a banjo! Silly YouTube. I would love to play a banjo, though. That would be ace.

THE END

My New Uke - It's not yellow and its name is Larry

As a footnote, if I ever learn to play 'Tapestry' by Carole King I can retire fulfilled (that sucker has 27 different chords in it - that's the most I've seen in any song by miles).