U2 vs Jane Austen

URL change

2010-04-03T12:15:00.009+13:45

So, I'm thinking about making some major changes to my blog. It's been in the "U2 vs Jane Austen" format (which is to say, no format whatsoever) for - eek! - six years! Nearly 600 posts! Which is nice, but I'm running out of steam a bit, and I'd like to stir things up.

Therefore, I have a new blog. It's called Surviving History. I'm not deleting this one, but I will be ignoring "U2 vs Jane Austen" from now on.

oh, it makes me mad!

2010-03-31T19:07:00.004+13:45

Imagine me sitting at home growling. Why am I growling, you ask? It's quite simple, really. Once again, I am questioning the purpose of the existence of academics and postgraduate students.

I went to a Postgrad Symposium for Humanities students today at the university I attend, Canterbury. Discussion: The end of the Humanities? (Literature, history, philosophy...)

It's disillusioning, you know, having to sit there listening to people who know how to talk the talk, know how to be provocative, know how to ARGUE - because that's what we "humanities" are good at - and disagreeing fundamentally with most of what is being said. According to one speaker, who is very eminent and very gifted and all that but who, I find, is on a completely different wavelength to mine, what the Humanities need to do to survive is to marry philosophy of the history of aesthetics with Darwinian psychology. Er, really? And how is your particular research interest, sir, practically supposed to work itself out? How exactly will this attract students? And how do you propose to make everyone think in the same framework?

Then you have to listen to people saying that maybe what the Humanities really need to do is to work out how to communicate to The Public so we can get more funding.

Or people saying that things have changed now and how worrying it is that modern third-year students refuse to read a 500-page novel for an undergraduate English paper; instead they'll just make something up when asked about it and it will sound okay.

And here is my opinion. (You knew that it was coming, right?)

The one thing I agreed on with the professor mentioned above was that the Humanities weren't killed; they committed suicide in the 70s and 80s. Suicide by deconstructionalism and postmodernism.

You want to know why the Humanities are disappearing from the priorities of government, university bosses and the public? It's because of cynicism. Cynicism created by academics whose sole purpose in life is to get more funding, like in the comment I mentioned above. More funding so they can put out more postmodern s*** that tells us that basically everything we do is meaningless and we can't ever know anything and "the fact" is an incredibly suspect idea. Cynicism created by departments like the English department at my university, who taught me so well that by the time I was in my final undergraduate year of my BA, I could churn out an English essay that I knew very well would get an A or an A+ because I'd figured out how to play the system; how to give the lecturers what they wanted, on questions I couldn't care less about or giving answers I fundamentally despised. You are taught very well by the Humanities, taught how to appear rebellious or original or boundary-pushing but how to all say the same thing, or how to all agree with your lecturer.

The only reason I didn't become completely disillusioned with the Humanities was that I had a history lecturer who cared very, very much about his topic and what he was teaching. I got idealistic. I became convinced that History is important, that it matters, that the memory of things like Stalin, the Crusades, the Holocaust, the Inquisitions, et cetera NEED TO BE PRESERVED. We must know why people did these things or put up with these things. We must keep our portrayal of our history honest. It won't necessarily regulate our own society today but we must try.

The Humanities must become humanitarian. We must care about what we study, we must let it affect our lives today, we must communicate this passion to our society. People want to care about what they do. They don't want to sit there listening to some angry, bitter lecturer deconstructing their favourite novel into a morass of constructs. What they want is something that matters.

"helping"

2010-03-11T16:07:00.005+13:45

When I am overtired I tend to become a little bit silly.

My flatmate A. and I were asked to help with with some of the organisation of our campus church's camp this coming weekend, in beautiful Wainui. It involves allotting rooms, and making welcome packs that include some sort of sweet treat.

A. and I have had rather busy weeks, and by the time we sat down on Wednesday night to make a start, we were exhausted. I had just been shopping with the 5pm crowds at Pak'n'Save to buy ingredients for the coconut ice and Russian fudge; A. had made dinner.

It didn't take much to set us off. Flatmate R. said, "Allie, could I ask you a big favour?" Immediately, we started cracking jokes until we were basically splitting our stomachs laughing, unable to stop, in much pain, while R. sat waiting for it to stop.

Then there was the fact that our coconut ice turned out like this:

... and our Russian fudge like this:

I don't understand it because we were cooking at exactly the same time, using exactly the same ingredients, taking exactly the same amount of time: and somehow, my fudge AND coconut ice never set all that well, and A.'s fudge and coconut ice set a little too well. This in itself was hilarious.

Then we set about packaging our sweet treats (below). This was hilarious because my fudge was almost all unusable, while Anna's was crumbly, and we amused ourselves thinking of excuses (other than the fact that we're not very good bakers, evidently). And because we didn't have enough fudge, some of the beautiful little packages actually just have fudge crumbs, and this was hilarious too.

Then this morning, after not enough sleep, A. met me at university and we divided the list of those going to camp into bedrooms at the YMCA camp in Wainui. THIS was hilarious, because we put all the "Chris"es into the same bunkroom. Ha! Ha! It still makes me laugh to think of them in their bunkroom, and one of them says, "Hey, Chris?" and all four others reply, "Yeah?"

We're never going to be asked to help again!

the fringe benefits of failure

2010-03-07T16:50:00.000+13:45

JK Rowling: The fringe benefits of failure | Video on TED.com

An amazing speech by one of the coolest authors alive today.

Behind Closed Doors

2010-03-03T12:02:00.002+13:45

Yay! The March issue of Halfway Down the Stairs is out. "Behind Closed Doors" is, I'm pretty sure, our biggest issue yet, and the submissions are multiplying for every issue - which is why we are happy to announce that from now on, HDtS issues will be published four times a year. The next one will be June, 2010, and the theme is "The Outsider". Submissions welcomed!

I think this issue is very attractive, thanks to our gifted resident web designer, and I'm quite proud of the quality of the writing, especially in the fiction section, which I have more to do with than the other sections (although from what I've seen so far, the quality there is excellent too). I would especially recommend Ethel Rohan's "More Than Gone" and Gail Taylor's "Tornado", and for those of you who enjoy reading Stacy's blog, her "Thrift Store Archeologist" is fantastic!

Welcome to this, our fifth year of publication.

butterfly observing

2010-02-23T11:11:00.007+13:45

I've started helping with childcare, one day a week, for my sister, who has two small daughters, R. and M. They are lovely to be around and so much fun to look after - last Tuesday R. was a little bit upset and so we had to have an emergency screening of The Little Mermaid. This was followed by (a) reading The Little Mermaid book, which was continued throughout the day by R., who can't read but basically knows it off by heart, and who added Ariel singing to most parts of the story ... "ah ah ahhhh, ah ah ahhhh"; (b) making little mermaid paper dolls, using the old method of folding up some paper and cutting one out so they all hold hands, and in this case, tails; (c) making gingerbread men who were decorated as mermaids.

Anyway - what I was intending to share was that my sister and her husband have been slowly working on their garden. It was pretty much bare when they bought the house except for a big green lawn. They really want to make it a cool place for little girls to live, so one of the things they added was a collection of swan plants.

Swan plants, in case you don't know, are where monarch butterflies like to lay the eggs that become the caterpillars that curl up in a chrysalis and then become a beautiful butterfly! Just like in The Very Hungry Caterpillar. It's been very cool watching the plants weekly and seeing things happen.

Butterflies visiting.

Caterpillars growing.

And chrysalis appearing! (Does anyone know the plural for chrysalis?)

I'm really hoping that I'll get to see at least one butterfly emerging from its chrysalis.

I love that I get to be a little girl again when I look after R. and M. I get to make paperdolls, gingerbread men, watch Disney films, and spend time observing butterflies!

feminine intuition

2010-02-21T00:34:00.003+13:45

I'm starting to realise the power of instinct. To trust the little voice - well, not even a little voice - to trust my own reactions to people.

I'm trying to do this as anonymously as possible, so I can't be perfectly clear in the anecdotes that will follow. I apologise if details are a little fuzzy at points.

Case study no. 1

Old man for whom my father feels sorry because he's stuck in a rest home most of the time, and so he invites him round for lunch reasonably often. When I happen to be there, I find myself behaving very coldly towards the man, who I just can't seem to make myself like. In fact, I find him incredibly creepy. I can hardly bring myself to talk to him and I avoid him. So I feel very rude. This is not how I was brought up to behave.

Later, I come across someone who works at the rest home he lives in. I would much rather have not heard this - honestly - but, according to this person, he's got a track record of saying inappropriate things to the young women on the staff there, one of whom filed a sexual harassment complaint against him.

Clarity!

Case study no. 2

A middle-aged man who attends something I attend. (Again, sorry about the vagueness.) This man has had many medical problems all his life, and he looks slightly odd. He also happens to have quite a strange manner. When he comes and talks to me, he's always very friendly, yet I find myself being, again, icy cold.

I torment myself about this. How can I treat someone like this, just because I find them "weird"? "Different"? Am I altering the way I treat him because I don't like the way he looks? How could I be so superficial? If this were a movie, I would be the mean townsperson.

Then someone comes to me: they have noticed this man approaching me. They warn me that he has, in the past, had a tendency to become obsessed with young women who are nice to him. He cannot tell the difference between kind friendship and romantic interest, and a while ago he proposed to a young woman who felt she should treat him just as she would treat any other male friend.

Clarity!

Conclusion

It is astonishing to me to discover my intuition. To realise that even if I don't have a logical, reasonable argument for the way I instinctively react to someone, my reaction may still be trustworthy.

It's strange to realise - after a lifetime of being taught to love my neighbour as I love myself, to be kind to everyone regardless of their age, race, sex, appearance, whatever - that sometimes it's wise to listen to myself when I respond to someone with dislike.

I'm not saying that I think the principles I was raised on are incorrect. I just think they need to be applied with wisdom, and with understanding of the individual.

the new me

2010-02-11T13:57:00.002+13:45

aaaaand...

I'm a bit weirded out by the new me. Whenever I catch sight of myself in a reflection, I get confused because glasses make me look different. And I get sick of having these things sitting on my face which I can't just shove upwards and sit on my head like sunglasses. And it rained today and as I walked into university I considered tracking down Hermione Granger to do the Impervius charm on my glasses so they repel water. (Yes, I have been re-reading all the Harry Potter books. I LOVE THEM.) But, all things considered, if I had to get glasses, these aren't bad ones. I think. But it will take some getting used to.

four eyes

2010-02-10T11:43:00.003+13:45

I'm getting glasses.

It seems weird, because I thought I had missed that gene. All five of my siblings (who have a different mother than me) have had really poor eyesight all their lives, whereas I thought I took after my mother, who only needed glasses for reading when she was about fifty. I didn't need them in the mandatory eyesight check at age five, before I started school, so it never occurred to me to get them checked again.

Then I tried on a friend's glasses, just for fun, and - astonishingly - everything was clearer!

So I went and got my eyes checked, crossing my fingers that I would actually need them, but not too much, so that glasses for me would be like a cool accessory rather than a hindrance. And it turns out my vision is not really bad - it's 85%, and you need 80% to drive without glasses - but it's bad enough that glasses will help me. It also turns out that one eye is longsighted and the other is shortsighted. That seems bizarre to me, but perhaps it's quite normal.

Cool accessory it is! Then I found out that (a) this cool little accessory was going to cost me about $500; and (b) spectacles are quite different from sunglasses on the face, and it was really hard to find a pair that I actually liked or felt pretty in.

Flatmate to the rescue! Rosie came, looked at the three frames I'd set aside, went "no, no and no", and then proceeded to help me find a really cool pair of frames that I really liked that were not ridiculously over-the-top expensive (I liked some Prada ones more, but given that the price tag would be close to a grand, my attraction to them rapidly dissipated). When I get the glasses, I will provide photos.

Now that I know I need glasses, it is suddenly becoming clear to me how unclear my vision is. How easily my eyes get tired. How many headaches I get from staring at a screen or books all day. How the edges of some things are blurred; sometimes even double. But the funny thing is, before I tried on my friend's glasses, I didn't notice at all. And I'm really glad that soon things are going to change.

So if you are someone who has always assumed you have wonderful vision and never bothered to get your eyes checked, I would highly recommend it.

on music

2010-02-08T12:56:00.004+13:45

I've been listening to Concert FM a lot lately - it is the only radio station in NZ that plays classical music (as well as jazz, folk, world music or other forms that don't get played on other radio stations). They sometimes have interviews with people which are often quite interesting, because they pick people who normally would be completely ignored by mainstream media.

However, there was an interview the other day that completely bugged me and here is the general gist of it. I WILL be dumbing it down and probably misrepresenting the complexities of this guy's ideas, but this is how it appeared to me.

They were interviewing an academic who has written a book about the future of music and the problems music faces today. He thinks that "Music", as it stands, is constrained by really limiting rules of, oh, harmony and rhythm, which exclude people who don't fit into those rules and which exclude other forms of audio material which should really be seen as Music too.

The idea of Music as limited by rhythm was forced upon the world by Pythagoras and we've all been playing along ever since, as if it were ordained that Music should incorporate timing. This is nothing less than - and I quote - "METAPHYSICAL FASCISM".

Folk music is more likely to step outside the box than "classical" or high class music, whereas all the bad smart people at universities or conservatories around the world have been grinding under their thumb the development of Music into a more inclusive art form.

Just in case my feelings about this are not yet clear: What utter crap.

Firstly, it's completely typical of an academic like this to "speak for" the lower classes, or for more earthy forms of music such as folk. I suspect that if you go and speak to the people he's claiming to speak for, or tried to play them the type of audio he would like to see classed as music, they would cover their ears in disgust, run away, and go back to enjoying their rhythmic, harmonic music.

Secondly, it's completely typical of an academic like this to use big words like "dialectic" or "metaphysical fascism" in the hope that this will awe critics into submission.

Thirdly, although he may claim music is too limiting and there are too many rules, he is simply creating a new structure into which he thinks people should fit. In fact, the rules of music are continually being bent by good musicians and composers. They are an exciting box within which to work, in my opinion, just like the form of the sonnet which Shakespeare worked within, but fiddled with. This academic seems to be suggesting that all rules are bad, all boundaries are bad, and all boxes must be broken. It sounds okay, it sounds romantic, but it is not actually reflective of reality, and it seems like he completely ignores the amazing variety which harmonic and rhythmic music has produced over even the last hundred years, let alone all time.

Fourthly, unfortunately for this academic, as much as he may theorise, people listen to music that pleases them. There is something about rhythm and something about harmony that is not simply an idea; it clicks with something inside us and once we've got it, we can't give it up. I'm not saying that everybody likes the same harmonies or rhythms, which is clearly untrue. And there is an element of truth in the idea that we like what we've been conditioned to like. BUT! Music in all its forms will endure, whatever he has to say about it, because people like it. There is no secret governing body out there forcing everybody to listen to the music they approve of. Instead, he seems to be setting himself up as some authority on what people should do - and he is doomed to failure.

What do you think? Will we all be dancing to the sound of discordant harmonies and beatless music in fifty years? Am I just reactionary?

my new abode

2010-02-07T13:27:00.007+13:45

You may remember me, just before Christmas, complaining every now and then about moving into a new house, and all the work this entailed, but exulting in the awesomeness of our new flat. It's been almost two months now and the exultation continues.

We have a lovely kitchen which, apparently, is not lovely enough because the owners are going to update it during the year. We have a dining room with fire, a large lounge, and a conservatory which is amazingly warm, even on cold days. We have a big deck that is fantastic for entertaining, and, as soon as we can persuade one of us to buy a barbecue, that will be a great space for a barbecue. We have a vege garden on its way - celery, cauliflower, cabbage, silverbeet and lettuce - plus herbs - rosemary, basil, thyme and Italian parsley.

Whenever there is a slight problem, we ring our landlord and landlady, and they fix it within a couple of days - EVEN around Christmas time - and we send up a heartfelt prayer of thanks for landlords who actually do their job (compared to last year's abysmal one).

We have a new flatmate who is basically the ideal flatmate personified, and we send up more heartfelt thanks that we no longer have a flatmate who will steal our food, generate enormous power bills, and hoard ice cream in her room. [I am not kidding. ICE CREAM, which soon became melted, rotting cream. We had to get commercial cleaners to rid her old room of the smell at the end of the year.]

I love my new room. At my last flat, I had a huge bedroom that was actually built as a lounge, which felt luxurious in a way. In this flat, my bedroom is not big at all, almost small, but it's pretty, and comfortable, and even if it gets a little cluttered, it's good for me to have to make an effort to keep things tidy. Here are pictures of it:

I LOVE my armchair. It is not a beautiful colour but it is the most comfortable armchair for reading books that I have ever sat in. And although the view you can see through the window is not the most flattering one, when I sit in the chair I can see out to the vege garden, the road, and the park across the road. I can sit mugs of hot chocolate on the windowsill and basically it's the perfect reading environment.

I really like the colour of the walls. They are a greeny-blue which feels quite fresh; no more boring cream walls and ugly carpet like the last flat. My bookcase looks tall and imposing without taking over the room entirely.

And, finally, at my desk I can sit and work [= fool around on the internet] for hours, gazing out the window onto the deck.

Allie is annoyed

2010-01-30T22:25:00.003+13:45

So I just got home and:

- My flatmate is having a loud "concert" at the flat to replace some concert she couldn't go to. It involves playing Switchfoot music REALLY REALLY loud. I'm tired. I want to go to bed.

Update: I am now sitting IN THE DRIVEWAY with my laptop because I do not want to listen to ANY more Switchfoot, ever again, never, ever, ever, and because I am a wimp who doesn't like asking my flatmate to turn down the music.

- I turned on my computer and opened up a Word document and it turns out someone who was just using my computer to read something before has changed my set-up! That has got to be the most annoying thing! Like changing the direction in which someone else's toilet paper rolls off the holder. Surely you would think that if someone has left something a certain way, that is how that someone wants it to be? There is no longer the toolbar at the top of the document which I can click on to get the formatting palette and the zoom option and so on. And I can't figure out how to get it back because Macbooks actually aren't all that intuitive (though they are pretty). Can anyone who has a Mac tell me how to get my toolbar back?

Sorry about the sheer boringness and self-centeredness of this blog post. Enough about me, let's talk about YOU. What annoys YOU the most?

in which I have a strong opinion

2010-01-13T11:39:00.003+13:45

I have always felt out of my comfort zone in sports. That's not to say I never enjoy playing a sport. Sport is fun to play, if you're good at it and have some measure of coordination, and it is good for us in a physical and mental sense, et cetera, et cetera. But I don't think I am the only one who suffered through the P.E. part of the education system, detesting being forced to put on unattractive clothes several times a week and humiliate oneself in front of one's classmates. And I hate the way the teaching of sports goes out of its way to embarrass kids; for example, the "pick your team" method that every non-athletic child has been humiliated by, and the intense shame of being picked last.

So much for my childhood and teenage years, which were permeated with a vague distrust of sports. The last few years I've thought about it more. The last few years I've become even more disgusted with the ideology behind sports, as undeniably great events like the Olympics have sold out, and athletes think competing in what is, essentially, a game is more important than human rights. [I'm thinking of Beijing here, and thinking back to Berlin 1936, or the Springboks' tours of New Zealand during apartheid.] I've also become disgusted with the culture of sport in New Zealand that thinks it's okay to spend twenty-five minutes of the news hour on sports news, and also thinks it's okay to spend roughly twenty of those twenty-five minutes on men's sports. I'm disgusted by the amount of money that is spent on sportspeople and sports equipment, by individuals, businesses and by government.

SPORTS IS ULTIMATELY POINTLESS. On a personal level, exercise is important, and playing a game makes people happy - of course. But there is absolutely no point to it; nothing about it actually serves other people in any way. I heard someone who coaches athletics say to another person the other day, "The problem with these kids is that none of them are passionate about throwing." Yes, well, why would they be? "Throwing" is NOT IMPORTANT. There is no conceivable purpose to it. Sport only gives other people pleasure if they have been brainwashed into thinking that there is something about watching other people run around a field that is intrinsically exciting. They encourage national and local chauvinism and idolisation of brute strength.

I'm not saying sports events should cease. Events like the Olympics are great examples of international cooperation. But it is so easy for their organisers to assume that they CAN somehow be apolitical, as if they get a free pass from having a global conscience, and the amount of money spent on them is a travesty. And I am skeptical that the people who win medals win them by talent and determination alone.

Would it be so very bad if sports stopped being professional, and sportspeople were forced to see themselves as ordinary people with a particular interest that is not more noble and not more worthy of support than others?

I melted

2010-01-05T11:35:00.002+13:45

Watch out for 1:15. I feel a degree less cynical today because of this.

defeating the grinch

2009-12-24T12:17:00.004+13:45

Things that could steal all my Christmas cheer:

1) I have just moved house, and finally left behind me the most patronising, unhelpful, annoying, idiotic, unethical landlord known to man. I have not mentioned him all year on this blog, just in case he ever came across it, because it's probably not a good idea to antagonise him, and we've had to be polite to him and treat him like a respected elder while he tells us we're unintelligent, messy and bad tenants (which is so not true - I cannot WAIT for him to discover in 2010 that he had it extremely good with us). I had to open up the house the other day for him to show prospective new tenants around, therefore I had to put up with him for a couple of hours.
However, that morning I had noticed (I'm sorry, this is gross) a small squashed decomposing creature of some kind on our driveway, which I could not bring myself to move because it was so foul. After he left that day, though, my other flatmate and I noticed the creature had gone and were astounded he'd done something helpful for once.
WRONG! I got a text message from my flatmate a couple of hours later - he had put the small dead animal IN OUR RECYCLING BIN.
Who's unintelligent now?! It would be funny if we didn't have to burrow in there to get it out.

2) This morning I put out our rubbish and organics bins on the kerb for the truck to come past and empty them. Because I am in a new house I did not realise that you aren't supposed to put them close to a corner, which meant the truck driver just drove straight past with a scornful look, probably thinking to himself - "GIRLS." Because I am in a new house we have a huge amount of rubbish this week and the bin was packed to the top. Great. We have to wait another fortnight with a steadily mounting pile of rubbish.

3) This morning, also, I parked at the mall, not realising I was parking in front of a "Restricted Park". Bang! A $45 fine.

I could be very angry and annoyed right now. But it's Christmas Eve!!!! I'm not! I'm happy! I'm wrapping presents! I feel like dancing round the room singing "Merry Christmas, horrible landlord! Merry Christmas, rubbish disposal truck! Merry Christmas, parking wardens!"

Merry Christmas, everyone!

good advertising?

2009-12-18T10:22:00.003+13:45

TV ads have got to be one of the most annoying things to sit through. In my opinion, the "mute" button can be a girl's best friend. However, occasionally, there are some ads for which I turn up the volume, and I feel happier after watching them. I've already shared some of my favourites with you, in this post in May. Here are some more!

My current favourite, this is Sky TV's take on the classically annoying song, "Que Sera Sera". Please be aware that the content may be objectionable to some people.

In this ad, Rhys Darby (of FotC) heads the advertising campaign for new mobile phone network 2 degrees.

This is a really snuggly ad. Watch it to understand. It is for Pink Batts, which is an insulating material for houses.

Here is another utterly random Instant Kiwi ad, featuring Doug and his imaginary friend.

Another ad in the series for L&P soft drink:

Finally, another ad that comes in a series - for energy drink Lift Plus:

Enjoy!

the year in review

2009-12-15T16:50:00.009+13:45

We don't have Thanksgiving in New Zealand - a real loss, I think - but it's still about this time of the year that I suddenly consider everything that's happened to me in the year that was, and wonder how on earth I got to be so lucky. I am thankful that:

1. At the beginning of the year I got to go on an amazing road trip with one of my best friends around a small part of this beautiful country. I don't know how I would have got through this year without that chance to take a deep breath and enjoy nature.

2. My sister and husband and tag-along children FINALLY moved back to New Zealand after too much time abroad, and better yet, they chose Christchurch. It has been so, so wonderful having two small nieces in close proximity to me, to play with, help look after, and adore. They are THE cutest three-year-old and one-and-a-half-year-old girls in existence. No competition.

3. I graduated! And it was more fun than I anticipated.

4. I have been allowed to spend a year of my life doing the most self-indulgent thing I have ever done: Choosing a topic that completely absorbs me, and spending all my time finding out more about it. It hasn't always been easy to do a MA, but it is the most rewarding thing I have ever attempted. I've also had brilliant supervisors, and brilliant co-thesis writers to moan and whinge to.

5. I got to meet the Prime Minister! Incredibly kind and generous people also gave me the means to do the following...
6. Going on a research trip to the UK. I can't describe what a thoroughly awesome experience this was, in every possible way. I fell in love with London. I was welcomed into the homes of two families who not only provided for me generously but also opened my eyes to new ideas, experiences. I saw history. I saw proof that Jane Austen existed. I was free to indulge all my geeky tourist desires. I got to stay long enough to feel like I was at home. Had what I could say is possibly the time of my life. I came back a different person.

7. I also got to visit continental Europe with the same friend I went on a road trip with earlier in the year. We got to see so much variety, so much beauty, and to experience so many things I had had no knowledge of before. Almost nothing went wrong; we finished in one piece; our money did not run out; we chose a good route. The worst part about it was saying goodbye at the end.

8. I went flatting for the first time. It was a very good decision. I have made what I am sure will be lifelong friendships among my flatmates. Where things have not gone quite to plan, or where personalities have clashed, I have learnt so much more about myself, and about how to deal with life. I am quite certain now in my adulthood - in fact, that has been the overwhelming development of the whole year. Obviously, technically I've been an adult for some time, but I've never felt like it. Now I am quite happy to say: I am Woman! Hear me roar!

Goodbye, 2009. Thanks for everything.

apologies

2009-12-10T11:53:00.003+13:45

I think I need a holiday.

I'm:
- stressed because we have to move house soon;
- anxious about the situation in our flat (we need someone to move into our new flat with us from 19 December and start paying rent; this Someone is still making up her mind and we don't know if we'll find anyone else in time if she says no);
- coming down with bugs/headaches every week;
- generally short on money;
- unable to summon up much motivation or enthusiasm to work hard on my thesis;
- supposed to finish its first chapter in less than two weeks (I've written one page);
- feeling completely unable to write anything creative and worried I'm not going to be able to keep up with HDtS;
- unable to take a holiday because I've taken too many already and I'll need time later when my family shows up for Christmas/New Year's;
- stressed out by a private situation which has been developing, and that's really all I can say;
Et cetera.

So this is my explanation for being the proprietor of a Very Boring Blog over the last little while. And this post doesn't make anything better. I'm sorry. I just don't feel like I can think about anything right now.

On the bright side, I have discovered Gilmore Girls for the first time in my life. My flatmate bought the complete seven seasons on DVD a while ago and we have been slowly making our way through them (we've almost finished the third season). I LOVE THEM. They make me happy. I can't explain the relief of getting home from a unproductive, depressing day and watching a couple of hours of pure pleasure. I think my flatmate must be extremely tired of me spouting my feelings; "Oh I love him so much!" whenever Kirk pops up.

But then I feel bad because I spent two hours on pure pleasure and should have spent it taking notes from long boring books or squeezing historical insight from my tired mind.

procrastination, with illustrations

2009-11-26T17:37:00.007+13:45

What do Marx, three-year-old nieces and paeonia moutans have in common?

2009-11-19T12:28:00.003+13:45

I sit in an office quite a lot, thinking about history, writing about history, researching history - oh, and facebooking (a concept so crucial to time-wasters that it has become a verb). This year the walls of my little cubicle are MADE of red pin-board type material, and the temptation to cover them with Things is just too great. I am not by a window, so this substitutes as the window out which I gaze when pondering. More will be added, I have no doubt, but for now, here is My Window. (I apologise for the quality of the photo; I took it with my webcam.)

Middle: Karl Marx. His tombstone at Highgate Cemetery, possibly my favourite of the places I visited in London. When I look at this I get a delicious chill running down my spine; it also is kind of relevant to my interest in Soviet history.

Bottom left: "Rendezvous", the famous 1939 political cartoon by David Low. This is an incredibly cool cartoon just on appearances alone, but once you understand a little of the history it simply thrills me, and I love it more and more every time I look at it. Hitler and Stalin, sworn enemies for the entire 1930s, completely scathing about each other - right up until 1939, when suddenly they sign a non-aggression pact, shocking the world, and take over Poland together, like good chums.

To the right: Marc Chagall's stained glass window based on Psalm 150, which is housed in Chichester Cathedral, which I visited in the south of England. I love the concept of modern stained glass, especially when it's sooo pretty, and so expressive of the psalm. In fact, I did a whole blog post on it.

To the right: Paeonia moutan, a postcard I bought at Kew Gardens in London, and then decided to keep, not send, since it was purty.

Bottom right: A postcard sent recently from Bretagne, France, by one of my best friends, who travelled in Europe with me before going to start a job in Bretagne. SUCH a beautiful picture and it reminds me of my friend whom I miss heaps!

Middle left: A famous poster of Lenin, bought as a postcard from Memento Park in Budapest. I particularly like that I can understand the Russian words on it: "Lenin lived, Lenin lives, Lenin will live!"

Above left: A painting I saw at the National Gallery, London: "Christ before the High Priest", by Gerrit van Honthorst. It doesn't translate incredibly well onto postcard-sized card, but the full-sized painting was just amazing; the use of light and dark was so effective; everything about it was expressive, and I LOVED it.

To the right: A photo I took of a sunrise in Dunedin, from the park next door to my sister's house. (I blogged about it here.) I recently bought a colour printer and printed this off and was very pleased with the result. I have to say, this is the picture that distracts me the most because it's sooo pretty.

To the right again: my niece, two and a half at the time, riding a donkey at the local zoo with an over-sized helmet and a huge happy grin on her face.

Middle right: picture by said niece, drawn recently for my birthday. She is only just three, but she wrote my name on the top left corner!! Yup, she's a genius.

A&P Show

2009-11-13T22:19:00.002+13:45

... which stands for "Agricultural and Pastoral Show", otherwise known as the Royal New Zealand Show, held annually across the country but it is generally acknowledged (by Cantabrians) that the coolest one is Canterbury's, held in Christchurch every November, with a public holiday to celebrate.

It's the first time I've been in about ten years, and was hardly typical, the weather refusing to cooperate. So it wasn't the usual sweltering Canterbury November day. Who cares? When you can view the following, the sun isn't necessary.

Slightly frightening funfair games and rides.

Big strong men chopping wood really fast.

Pretty horses jumping over things.

Ridiculous sheep (and other animals).

Hanging out with the flatmates, trying not to freeze.

Eating low-quality hot-dogs that seemed sooo good at age ten.

serves me right

2009-11-07T17:42:00.003+13:45

Well, it just serves me right for being a snobby postgraduate. For the last two years of postgrad study, I've avoided exams - up until now. 'Ha! Undergrads!' I thought, swivelling on my swivelly office chair, drinking free coffee, complaining to the College of Arts because we don't have pinboards on our doors anymore. 'They don't know what hard work is!'

And then I decided to take a first-year paper this year - Russian language. I decided it would be fine for me to up and leave the country for two months, and then just catch up when I got back. It's a 100-level course, right? Can't be that hard? The exam'll be a breeze!

Well, I've spent the last week studying Russian verbs, vocabulary, cases, grammar. Memorising three months' missed classes. Feeling guilty day and night because I wasn't working hard enough. Beating my head against a brick wall going "it's soooooo haaaaaarrrrd, I hate exams, heghhhhh".

And now the exam is over and I am exhausted. Really looking forward to getting back to my thesis. I apologise, undergrads. Exams suck. I will never downplay their horror again.

As an interesting aside, below is the result of one my moments of procrastination this week:

disclaimer: will definitely contain mistakes

2009-11-02T13:28:00.005+13:45

Я так плохо говорю по-русски, и пишу по-русски, и читаю по-русски.

I am really bad at speaking Russian, and writing Russian, and reading Russian.

Кроме того, я не ходила на много классы.

Besides, I did not go to many classes.

Теперь, я должен учиться.

Now, I must study.

Пожалуйстa, экзамен, ___ симпатичный меня. *

Please, exam, be nice to me.

Твой, Элей

Yours, Allie

* I couldn't figure out how to command the exam to 'be' nice to me, so I left the verb space blank.

weeds

2009-10-24T23:07:00.006+13:45

I've done something I never thought I would get into today; got my gardening thing on.

I share a flat with four other girls. We're all students, and it's hard enough getting everyone to do their chores about the house let alone weed the garden every now and then (which, apparently, IS our responsibility as tenants of the house). So in the course of the last ten months, the garden has got exceptionally overgrown, apart from the lawns, which we actually do mow weekly or fortnightly. As we're coming up to the end of the year and all that entails (flat inspection etc.), and as today was a really lovely day, I decided to get outside and start attacking those weeds.

And it was surprisingly addictive. Imagine, if you will: A huge, waist-high green thing, a foreigner among the shrubs. Grabbing it with both hands. RIPPING it out of the ground intact, like some alien creature, and shaking the dirt off its roots triumphantly. I've only got a small portion done, but the bug has bitten me (thankfully, not literally) and I want to see that garden looking tidy!

It also happens to be the case that a few days ago we bought some seedlings - lettuce plants, and some herbs to grow in pots. So part of the day was spent happily transplanting cute little plants which will hopefully be extremely useful in a month or two.

The amount of weeds we stuffed into our organics disposal bin! It was VERY SATISFYING. I think next time I'll take before and after shots.
Our cute little lettuce plants.
Our herbs, lined up on the windowsill: pizza thyme, basil and Italian parsley. Mm-mm.
So, who knows what I'll be doing next weekend?

ee-ee-ee-ee-ee eet eet eet

2009-10-21T18:17:00.006+13:45

The latest Regina Spektor album, Far, came out here just after I left for the UK, so I didn't buy it until I got back to New Zealand - a wait of two months which was HARD.

But now I have it, and have basically made up for two months missed music by listening to it constantly. By launching into vocal aerobics of made-up words when my flatmates least expect it (much less skilfully than the singer, too).

There are several things I love about Regina Spektor's music. One is the lack of pretension in her voice. She doesn't pull out the silly little tricks less creative artists use; she's just plain good at singing. Another is her playfulness, with tunefulness. She uses her voice like a musical instrument.

Personally, I enjoy this album just as much as 'Begin to Hope', at least. At this point I think I like it more. It's a little less radio-friendly; it seems a little more creative. However, I have been known to change my mind about CDs that I listen to over and over again. For now, however, I'm loving it.

My favourites: Human of the Year, Eet, Genius Next Door, Wallet, Machine, Laughing With and Dance Anthem of the 80s. (But actually I like them all and find it very hard to choose.)

Has anyone else opinions to share? I have been completely unable to discuss it with anyone because no one else I know has listened to it yet.

is it possible to be TOO much influenced by books?

2009-10-16T22:56:00.002+13:45

One of my English purchases :)

Diary entries while in Europe:

London, 15 August
... I can see why Bean in Fantastic Mr Fox existed on cider alone. ...

Brighton, 30 August
... I went for a little walk through a field up a hill, and calmed right down. It was exactly how England's supposed to be. I felt like Elizabeth Bennet wandering round Hertfordshire.
Then I saw cows in the next paddock over, and started imagining farmers with dogs and/or guns, a la Farmer Maggot of the Shire, so I quickly made my way back to campus. ...

Brighton, 31 August
... There is something very likeable about Brighton. Taste is an unknown word, but it's very vibrant, and everywhere you look something is going on. I felt like I shouldn't like it, but I did.
I can see why this is the place Lydia Bennet eloped with Wickham. It's exactly the sort of place where you do stupid things.

Brighton, 2 September [in the Royal Pavilion]
... I kept wondering, trying to remember, as I wandered through the rooms, "Was this the room where the heroine of Regency Buck fainted when the Prince Regent tried to kiss her?"

Prague - Krakow, 15-16 September
... We were on the 21.09 to Krakow Glowny, in a ladies' sleeper shared by three. ... We were told we MUST lock our doors or we would be robbed by gypsies, and it felt like a cross between Murder on the Orient Express and “The Elves and the Shoemaker”.

London, 26 September
... I started off by catching a bus to Manor House Station, and then hopping on the Piccadilly and Centre lines to Notting Hill. I knew I would not forgive myself if I didn't go to Portobello Road Market on a Saturday morning. So I went. ... I bought one antique print, a woodcut, which I am very pleased with for £15. ACTUALLY considered buying an 1899 illustrated Pride and Prejudice for £180. Even after calculating exchange rates and figuring out exactly how much that would cost me, I considered it. Ended up ruefully deciding I couldn't justify it. ...

a little piece of me is in London

2009-10-11T17:21:00.005+13:45

It's over two weeks ago now, but here am I: displayed proudly in a glass case in the Victoria and Albert Museum, London. I'm the big one in the middle; you may JUST be able to see a sketch of a vase. As the public walked into this particular room, we were given a card and a pencil and asked to draw our favourite ceramic from home; minutes later, we were part of an exhibition. Little pieces of people.

And now I'm home. There are wonderful things about being home:
- seeing people: family, flatmates, friends.
- living in a country where cigarettes are unpopular and where smokers are subject to etiquette.
- a silly and unpredictable climate which makes me feel quite a fondness for little old New Zealand, buffeted on all sides by the weather.
- ducklings, daffodils... etc.
- getting involved in the History department again.

Less wonderful are:
- the constant questions of "how was Europe?" What else can I say but "er, really good. Do you want more detail?"
- catching up on two months of missed Russian language classes. MY HEAD HURTS.
- a feeling of boredom as I go from extreme activeness to moments of free time.
- most of all, feeling like there is a little piece of me missing.

Here is what I wrote in my diary, sitting in Heathrow Airport on 29 September, waiting to leave London:

"I cannot believe it's only two months since I came through Heathrow for the first time, but at the same time it feels like yesterday. Up until writing, I've felt very matter-of-fact about it all--oh yes, I'll be in Christchurch on Thursday--but suddenly, a wave of unease hits me, and I just know I don't want to go. New Zealand is still my favourite place in the entire world--make that GALAXY--but I feel torn. I absolutely love this place; I've no idea when I will come back, if ever; it has been, possibly, the time of my life. And I'm supposed to just go back home and settle into life again? to consider my future in an unbiased manner when everything is whispering "England! England!"? I'm one of those people I hate, Miss Travelling-CHANGED-Me - no, I'm not. At least, I hope not. But I won't be able to explain it to anyone without hurting their feelings or elevating the NZ inferiority complex, which is not my intent or purpose at all. Being away has heightened my appreciation of what we have at home to a huge extent. But I want to be in two places at once, which we all know is impossible."

So here I am now. Loving being home; missing London. Struggling to find my niche.

Europe, part VII

2009-09-28T07:02:00.006+13:45

18 September 2009
Krakow-London, 3.30pm

Last night we went out for what we thought was going to be Polish cuisine, and discovered yet another form of restaurant/café in which it is possible for us to be clueless—self-service. At least we tried Polish pierogi (a bit disappointing) but the rest of our mixed plate was nice. Then to Western-style café with English on the signs—helps us to feel less imperialist. (At least I did say ‘thank you’ in Polish today, TWICE, and they understood me!) We also tried, at different times, these breads that are sold everywhere in little stalls. They are shaped into a big ring and look a bit like pretzels, and they’re really yummy.

It was my last night in Europe (Katie made a silly mistake and booked her flight to Paris on the 19th!) and so we stayed up to 11.30, our latest yet! and played two-hand 500. I lost, of course, but at least I wasn’t in negative figures.

This morning we left our bags at the hostel and went for a wander, first getting breakfast takeaway, and strolling through the park that is in a ring around the city centre. This brought us to Wawel Castle and so we went further around it, walking beside the river Wista with the castle towering over us, before making our way back to get our bags.

We walked to the train station through the Old Town and came across things we really should have seen before, such as St Florian’s Gate. Oh well—at least now I have a snapshot!

At the train station I had to say goodbye to Katie for possibly a whole year which of course made me cry and still makes me tear up now. [She is teaching English in France for the next year.] And now I am on a plane to London. It does feel like I’m returning to civilisation, a little, after ten days of hostels. It almost feels like I’m coming home. I can’t believe I’ve only got eleven more days here, and I am not ready to go back to New Zealand.

Europe, part VI

2009-09-27T07:52:00.007+13:45

17 September 2009
Krakow, 4.45pm

Today we spent the day at Auschwitz. I don’t even know how to describe it. There is nothing I want less than to be all sentimental and talk about an icy feeling clutching at me as I entered—because there wasn’t—but neither can I pretend that it wasn’t profoundly moving.

We took a bus filled with lots of other people from central Krakow, a drive of about one hour and fifteen minutes. As we drove, we would have looked out on pretty peaceful scenery, except that our eyes were glued to a screen, watching a documentary of footage filmed by a cameraman among the Soviet liberators of the camp. It was pretty shocking stuff but there were two low points for me – 1) footage of Soviet pathologists performing an autopsy on a limp, dead baby found in the camp, emaciated and tiny; 2) footage of child prisoners, aged maybe five or six, in a group, raising their arms to show the numbers branded on them (they probably did not know their own names), looking for all the world like a primary school class, except that they were skeletal and branded. Result: a sense of grimness before we even reached the place.

However, entering the camp itself, it was hard to picture these things. It could have been a normal, almost pretty, apartment complex, if you ignored the barbed wire and watch towers, or if you didn’t enter the buildings. We followed a guide around—in the buildings now is housed a museum, and we saw photos, documentary evidence, material evidence (piles and piles of human hair, shoes, glasses, etc.)… We saw a recreation of the wall where prisoners who had committed some ‘crime’ were shot, now stacked with flowers and candles, and the punishment cell where Father Kolbe, a Polish priest who sacrificed his life for another prisoner, was sent to die by starvation with another nine prisoners. We saw ‘standing cells’, about one square metre, into which four prisoners were crammed overnight, with only a small ground-level door as an opening to crawl through—after a night in these, the prisoners were still expected to work all day. We saw a whole hallway of photos of shaved-headed prisoners, with their names, their numbers, their date of arrival and date of death; of all the ones I read, only one had no date of death, and almost all the rest died within two or three months, at the most. A few here and there had traces of a half-smile as they had their photo taken, the vestige of their personality, stolen by the Nazis; they died no later than anyone else. We saw the place where Rudolf Höss, the camp commandant, was hung after the war, about two hundred metres from the house he had lived in with his wife and children and had a happy life, right next door to utter misery. We walked through a gas chamber and crematorium in which thousands and thousands of people died a slow, painful death.

Lord, have mercy on us.

I felt pretty grim all the way round (an understatement) and did not feel at all like talking, but actually came extremely close to crying at one point, in the little square where the prisoners were shot – I don’t know why it was there, but there it was.

After a short break in which we ate lunch and felt bad about it, we got on the bus for the short ride to Birkenau, otherwise known as Auschwitz II. This seemed much more how one would imagine a concentration camp—a big empty field with long wooden huts on either side, train tracks down the middle, the remains of crematoria the Nazis tried to destroy before they fled—except that the grass was a brilliant, Irish green.

We only had about half an hour here and saw the latrine hut, which prisoners were allowed to use twice a day—about 2000 people had to make it through in half an hour, or an hour if they were lucky. No need to do the maths to understand how impossible that would be. We also saw a hut with the sleeping bunks—even in its clean condition it was horrible but to imagine how it must have been with 700 or 800 people, in either summer or winter…

I bought a book: “The Holocaust: Voices of Scholars”—academics such as Kershaw or Wiesel or Bartov discussing the difficult questions of the Holocaust. It looks very interesting, but the blurb on the back is a bit pretentious and was obviously written by an academic:

“The duty to raise questions about the Holocaust rests especially upon intellectuals, since from them we await answers to critical, difficult questions of values…” Really? Do we?

And now we’re back at the hostel. My last night in Krakow, my last night in continental Europe, and the last time I see Katie for almost a year.

Europe, part V

2009-09-27T06:00:00.005+13:45

16 September 2009
Krakow, 2.00pm

We finished off the day in Prague yesterday with a river cruise, which afforded nice views and also FASCINATING insights from our guide, such as, “Ladies and gentlemen, over here you can see the Ministry of Public Transport…” No?! Fancy that!

After which we walked back to the Old Town Square and had cocktails as, from a distance, we watched a Czech talent show of different martial arts. Felt like we were mastering European café culture—just plonked ourselves down and waited to be served, after which the waiter told us “service is not included in the bill”, which makes things SO much simpler than going through the issue of to tip or not to tip. Had kebabs for dinner (Vienna ones are superior) then went back to the hostel for our things, walked to the train station (Hlavni Nadrazi), and eventually, exhausted, found our train.

We were on the 21.09 to Krakow Glowny, in a ladies’ sleeper shared by three—we had the top two bunks and a Czech lady had the bottom. We were told we MUST lock our doors or we would be robbed by gypsies, and it felt like a cross between “Murder on the Orient Express” and “The Elves and the Shoemaker”. I was on the top bunk, and had a ladder to climb up, and felt very comfortable, lying there on the top bunk being rocked to sleep.

Until… I must have dozed off, and then woken again in a sudden flash of panic. Don’t know why, but suddenly felt very shut in, unable to sit up, unable to just jump out of bed, imagining being enclosed in that space, and I knew that if I didn’t get out, I would start to hyperventilate or something. So I got up, went and washed my hands, paced the corridor for a while, said some prayers, then got into bed, intensely disliking the feeling. Eventually I must have got to sleep, and so the night passed, but I must say I was very relieved to get off that train, bright and early at 6.30am.

We wandered into Krakow, tried to get money out of an ATM but were thwarted by a beggar who wouldn’t back away so I could put my pin number in without him seeing; finally found ‘Coffee Heaven’ open so had a sort of breakfast; then left our bags at the hostel. We walked over to Wawel Castle and wandered the cathedral and grounds—very beautiful, and the royal apartments had an unexpected feel of Italy. However, I haven’t seen a ‘castle’ in Europe or Britain that seems at all how I imagined a castle. I wonder if such exist!

Now we are at the hostel, enjoying much appreciated showers and rest. Soon we will go into the Old Town again to get on a bus to go to Wieliczka Salt Mines—will update!

8.45pm

Well, the Salt Mine was amazing. A great tour guide who told us—actually—REALLY INTERESTING stuff about the mine and cracked some not-tired-sounding jokes. The mine itself was amazing. Statues, whole CHAPELS carved underground, it astounded and brought the whole thing beyond expectations.

And just for your information - that chandelier is made from salt!!!

Europe, part IV

2009-09-26T01:09:00.011+12:45

14 September 2009
Prague, 11.20pm

We’ve had a wonderful day glimpsing some of Praha, starting with the Old Town Square, which boasts the Astronomical Clock – a surprisingly cool contraption which has a skeleton who reaches out and rings a bell every hour (plus more unintelligible aspects which were completely lost on me).

There’s definitely a more medieval feel to this city—just walking into the square confirmed that. Possibly the narrowness of all the little streets, maze-like, too, or the sight of Prague Castle across the Charles Bridge… Again, I am impressed by Eastern statues. So much more interesting.

We went on a tour with a bunch of other English-speakers (mostly Americans) to Prague Castle. The castle seems less like a castle up close, but has an elaborate changing of the guards and a gorgeous cathedral with stained glass like nothing I’ve seen before.

After the tour was finished we walked back to the Old Town via the not-disappointing Charles Bridge and did some shopping (at least, that was mostly me). I got some great present items [which of necessity must be hush-hush, given that this is a public blog]. And we wandered some more.

Tonight we went to the opera! Carmen. We were both a bit under-dressed, and the lady at the door looked us up-and-down very disapprovingly, which was a bad start, but at least she let us in. It only got better and better. The theatre was spectacular but once the performance started you only had eyes for the stage. We had great seats and the set/music/cast/EVERYTHING was wonderful. It seemed so much more like The Real Thing than anything I’ve seen in New Zealand (though to be fair I’ve never been to an opera before). A new addiction, perhaps?

15 September 2009
Prague, 2.30pm

I am sitting on an island – Střelecký Ostrov – in the middle of the Vltava River in Praha. It’s been a busy sort of day, a second full day in the city, which seems unusual and abnormally long compared to the last two cities. But it is very pleasant sitting out here watching the river, and it is a nice change from rushing around madly.

This morning we started off at the Chocolate Museum, which is as educational as it sounds, choosing this over the Museum of Medieval Torture (which actually looked pretty interesting) and the Sex Machines Museum (not so much).

Then we went to the cemetery in the Jewish Quarter. Naturally. This was the only burial ground allowed for Jews and so is stacked high with graves and a higgledy-piggledy morass of tombstones. Some Orthodox Jews were gathered around one grave, presumably someone special, chanting and rocking, and I felt so rude walking around with my camera out. Felt worse when I saw a couple of other tourists standing right next to them, snapping away…

Europe, part III

2009-09-24T22:17:00.004+12:45

13 September 2009
Prague, 9.45pm

Have had what seems like a full/empty day. We started off by leaving the excellent Happy Hostel with our luggage and directions for the very easy tram #18 to the Suedbahnhof. Then spent an hour dragging suitcases glumly around the gardens of the Belvedere Palace. They were BEAUTIFUL, which slightly lightened our glumness, but we were both tired; Katie coming down with a cold and I on the last stretch of one; hungry and, in Katie’s case, caffeine-deprived.

After having lunch (and coffee), and stocking up on provisions (= chocolate), we felt much better, and went to get on our train – this time in the right carriage, on the right seats.

It was a longer trip this time (12.58-17.18). The Austrian part was very quick, but soon after getting into the Czech Republic we went winding through a valley that seemed to last almost all the way to Prague and slowed us down a lot. Not that that was a bad thing! Definitely the most scenic train ride yet. It was also interesting seeing a well-paved bicycle track running along by the train and river sometimes, and people biking or skating along it. Two German girls at the hostel had biked all the way to Prague two days ago, so it must be reasonably well-known.

The area of the hostel was reasonably easy to find; we had to take the metro (I ordered tickets in a very broken Czech – “dva - Muzeum”). But then finding the right street was a bit of a mission, and then we had to wait at two locked doors until someone came out, because the buzzer wasn’t working. Finally, at the hostel door, a very unfriendly receptionist who had no idea we were arriving and a grim, stale-with-cigarette-air room greeted us. Luckily the receptionist lightened up and our actual bedroom was not smelly! Still, this is definitely the least pleasant hostel so far. Which increases the hilariousness of the fact that Katie arranged for our opera tickets to be sent here tonight—according to her booking confirmation, “we will deliver the tickets on the evening before the performance to the concierge of your hotel…” :)

We left the hostel as soon as we could, unsurprisingly, to get dinner, and chose, for the funniness of it, a restaurant called “Typical Czech Restaurant”. For the first time, we had a truly helpful and nice waiter who didn’t make us feel stupid. I’ve never even heard of Czech cuisine before, but Katie had potato pancakes with cabbage and bacon, and I had a spicy Czech goulash. It was DELICIOUS. A very good culinary experience, in short – and culinary experiences tend to be the high points when I travel! Prague is starting to look more promising.

The only thing I feel I need to do now is to learn a few Czech phrases. We have felt so imperialist since we arrived in Europe, assuming we can just get by on English. I actually did okay in Vienna with my very very basic German, to the point where I could order food, say ‘excuse me’, ‘thank you’, etc – and for the majority of the time, I didn’t NEED to assume English knowledge, which was great. But in Hungary, and now in Prague, where the most I can conjure up is a ‘thank you’, I feel so rude!

Europe, part II

2009-09-24T01:08:00.008+12:45

12 September 2009
Vienna, 8.30pm

When I look at the date of yesterday’s diary entry, it really surprises me, because it certainly doesn’t seem like only a day since I was sitting on that train writing that entry. Yet our time in Vienna has gone by very quickly, and I will be sorry to leave so soon, tomorrow—except that we are on our way to Prague!

We arrived at the Westbahnhof at about 2.15 yesterday and reasonably soon found our hostel, which is extremely close by. It’s name is the ‘Happy Hostel’, and I am certainly happy we booked this one, because it’s wonderful! We get a huge room to ourselves, and because no one is in the room next door, also a shower, toilet and kitchen! Free internet, friendly staff, gypsies bowling up in the morning and offering me a cigarette (true story) – all for only €21 a night!

So after a couple of hours digesting our accommodation, we headed off into Vienna, deciding to go to the Schönbrunn Palace, a short tram-ride away. This was the residential palace of the imperial family of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. The palace itself was beautiful but the grounds itself were the real highlight – the manicured gardens were so much prettier than I could have imagined, and then looking up the hill, a gloriette at the top. Woodlands surrounding, with different paths running through them, fountains to happen upon.

Back near our hostel, we had Puten (turkey) Schnitzel that night, because it seemed sort-of Austrian.

This morning we discovered that the muesli we’d bought the night before was overwhelmingly sweet, with clumps of white chocolate; also that “Butter Milch” is NOT milk.

We set off to walk down Mariahilfer Straβe. This would lead us into the central city and the Hofburg Palace, but in the meantime provide us with lots of shopping opportunities! We both made purchases at H&M – I bought a scarf. Katie bought just a little bit more!

It didn’t seem like a very long walk, with so much distraction, and we came to the first set of buildings of the Hofburg Palace at about 11.30. This is a huge place and we didn’t know where to start, so we wandered aimlessly for a while, Lonely-Planet-less. But eventually we came across a big Austrian food festival in the grounds; tents and tents of pastries, meats, HUGE cheeses, wine, beer… Bought what I think were called ‘topfels’? Then found a big tent with many tables in the middle, a brass band in national dress, and FOOD STALLS all around the sides. We each had a kind of Austrian hot dog, very long with a kransky-like sausage, and I had a beer. It seemed like a weird juxtaposition to be feeling so Austrian, and then to hear the band start playing Michael Jackson’s ‘We are the World’. Then we couldn’t resist, and bought a pastry to share. DEFINITELY my favourite thing in Vienna.

After this we moved out of the palace area and into Vienna central. This was much more like the Austria I had seen in images than the part of town we were staying in. Horse-drawn carriages and deceptively “simple” architecture. We went into one church, St Peter’s, that looked very ordinary outside but was stunningly ornate inside. Then to St Stephen’s, the cathedral. This was very different though no less stunning, very Gothic, with huge grey columns soaring up and very little colour, even in the windows. We decided to go up the spire for the view – had to cram into a tiny little elevator with an Austrian man who kept making comments in German that no one understood. On the way back down, one of the more surreal experiences as we crammed in there silently – Gloria Gaynor, “I Will Survive”, on the radio. “Ooooh, as long as I know how to love…” Couldn’t help looking at each other and shaking with giggles. Burst out into the cathedral again and couldn’t quite get into the solemn, contemplative mood after that, so we left.

Had a weird and embarrassing/angering experience at a café – turned out that by going to the counter and ordering for ourselves tea/coffee we disqualified ourselves for a seat, and had to stand up near the door by a bar table. Angry waiter very indignant when we questioned his instruction to get up off the chairs we had claimed. Felt very bitter and considered sitting on the ground with our drinks, just to lower the tone of their overpriced establishment.

[Above is Wilson, the little sheep a friend gave me to carry around Europe with me and photograph in different places, à la Amélie.]

We headed back through the Hofburg, stopping to relax in the gardens outside the Natural History Museum for a while, and then visiting the museum itself. It was a good museum, but its building was the most impressive thing for me – an amazingly grand entrance hall. I took a photo of Katie on the stairs looking up and just as I took the photo a VERY, VERY HANDSOME museum worker came into the frame, jumping out of the way as soon as he realised. Thank goodness the photo caught him! So good-looking. With a nice smile. And later, as we left, he said “Tchüss!” to us. I think we had a little moment there… :) [Apologies to the blog readers: I took this photo on Katie's camera, so for now you are unable to see him!]

From there it was back to the hostel. We paused on the way to get a kebab from a street vendor, and it was really good. At €3, only 10 cents more than my expensive and uncomfortable tea earlier in the day! Lesson for the day: Avoid fancy-looking cafés.

Europe, part I

2009-09-23T08:41:00.006+12:45

11 September 2009
Budapest-Vienna, 11.30am

If I am travelling to Vienna it follows that I must have spent the last two nights in Budapest! And I did. Not without hiccups, but successfully spent two nights in a foreign city. I say foreign as opposed to London, which doesn’t really feel foreign. Would I have managed, or retained my sanity, without Katie? I don’t know.

I spent most of Wednesday sitting around waiting to go. The flight didn’t leave until 4.45pm but it basically took the whole day out once you factor in getting to the airport and my anal-retentiveness about getting to things like this early. Finally got on the plane, following a group of boys talking about who had shagged whom – haw haw haw – and followed by a man with a very public school accent talking on his cellphone: “and when I am dead” (dripping with irony and enunciation) “you will receive half, and my two children will receive a quarter each. I see no reason to pay several hundred pounds to change a perfectly good document. Now will you please stop, you are worrying my wife…”

On the plane with me (unfortunately not beside me) was Rufus Sewell, the actor from Amazing Grace, Helen of Troy, etc. Saw him again when we got off and were waiting for bags – looking rather inconspicuous for a famous actor but also really good-looking!

All this faded to horror, however, when I tried to get money out at Ferihegy Airport and my card was rejected by the ATMs. Panicked a little, considered crying, then – thank God! I had £30, which I got changed to forints. Katie had texted ahead the correct train line to get onto, which despite all my careful planning was not Déak Ferenc but Nyugati, and feeling stressed and anxious I got on – but it made me feel a heck of a lot better to see her waiting at the end of it! Resolved to deal with credit card issues the next day, and just to get some rest, [plug] at the very comfortable Unity Hostel [/plug]. [Actually it was very nice, and if you like waking up to the strains of flute practice at the Franz Liszt Music School, you should stay here too!]

Unfortunately for Katie, we spent until 10.30 the next morning (Wednesday) simply trying to call the emergency number of my bank. Finally managed to sort out the issues, but no thanks to my bank, who will be getting a strongly worded letter when I return to New Zealand. And then by 11am it was time to catch a bus to Memento Park…

…which is a collection of all the old Soviet-era statues, gathered into one area instead of destroyed. It was quite hot by this time. We wandered around all, posing flippantly with some, taking quite a few photos. One of the weirder was a single pair of boots high on a podium – Stalin’s boots – the rest of him smashed by Hungarians in 1956. There were no more Stalins in the park but plenty of Lenins, Bela Kuns and nameless workers or soldiers. I spent 2000 forints (about $20) on a very small badge with Lenin’s face on it, and later in the day saw a better one for cheaper. Typical.

The bus left again at 1pm, dropping us back in Déak Ferenc Square, where we had a bit of lunch and then set off for Buda, on the other side of the Danube, which is much more hilly than flat Pest. We climbed up instead of taking the overpriced cable car, stopping on the way at a sort of promontory overhanging the river, where lovers dangled legs, and geckos basked in the sun. At the top – something different around every corner – amazingly beautiful old buildings, Byzantine-looking churches, very Eastern European statues, a slight Mediterranean feel… I think the quote for the day was definitely “That is such a cool statue!”

An awkward moment – sitting in ex-cloisters now café overlooking the Danube, heavenly, a four-piece gypsy band starts playing, even more so – BROKEN irreparably when the violinist comes over, starts playing/singing in our ears – oh no! We are completely clueless about etiquette in this situation – are we expected to pay him? Finally it comes out – his CD, 5000 forints in the stores, but for you, 2500 forints. [Erm, well, not really interested.] I can see you are young girls, therefore, for you, 2000 forints.

Ended up deciding no; he was not impressed. Very embarrassing.

Walking back, VERY thirsty in all the heat, bought Coca-Cola, collapsed in a green patch near the river – lovely.

Went out for dinner on the street near the hostel which was crowded with restaurants spilling out onto the street; Caesar salad check, orange juice check, service – not fantastic but we still tipped. And yes, it was not exactly Hungarian food, but I had the beginnings of a horrible cold and felt like something light.

This morning we checked out, dragged our bags down to City Park (the spectacular Heroes Square and a castle), then over to Keleti Station and got on this train. Managed to embarrass ourselves again by sitting in the correct seat numbers, but in first class – oh dear. Had to do a walk of shame down the entire train. And here I am now, in second class, still in Hungary, I think. Lunchtime!

snapshots, part IV

2009-09-08T08:02:00.007+12:45

Too many snapshots, so little time! Anyway, here are some more.

The battlefield of the Battle of Hastings, 1066, + the abbey built at the top of it as a penance.

The ruins of the abbey

Inside the monks' quarters

Stairway

Fun and games on Brighton Beach

High Street, Battle

Dusk

A for Allie

Walking up an English hill made me feel like Lizzy Bennet striding around Hertfordshire

I'm off to Eastern Europe on Wednesday, so... see you later. With, no doubt, a whole lot more snapshots and a really difficult job choosing which ones to share.

halfway down the stairs

2009-09-06T08:46:00.002+12:45

Lost and Found - our prettiest issue of HDtS yet? You decide.

snapshots, part III

2009-09-05T05:35:00.006+12:45

I have just had the most fantastic five nights in Brighton. I did not expect to enjoy Brighton as much as I did. It's the most tasteless place I've ever been in but it LURES you in. The Prince Regent seems to have started the trend for OTT in the early 19th century with the Royal Pavilion, below, which is even more dazzling inside, full of the most lurid colours, utterly showy - but, again, somehow likeable. And after reading so many Georgette Heyer Regency novels I just had to love it; I kept wondering, "is this the room where the heroine of Regency Buck faints when the Prince tries to kiss her?" Just down the road, the Brighton Pier, where ragtime music drones away on English funfair-type rides. The beach itself - I liked it best when it was moody and stormy weather, but Monday, a bank holiday, it looked almost like the Riviera, and it seemed like half of London was there getting burnt strawberry-red as they sat on their rented deckchairs or ate their rock candy.

I also worked in the coolest archive EVER - which you should all find out about, and if possible, start your own research project that has something to do with English social history between 1937 and the early fifties. But more about that later, I have a blog post planned.

There were only two downers. The first, that I tried to eat fish and chips outside on the beach, where a horde of giant seagulls immediately flocked to me, one landing ON MY HEAD.

The other, and the worse, was that I paid very little for accommodation. You think that sounds good? Nope. It isn't. I stayed in the most depressing, skody, uncomfortable student hostel known to man. It got to the point where I was really unsure how to feel when I left today - part of me was so sad to leave Brighton - the other part was deliriously happy that I was moving on to a hotel with a) a comfortable, non-creaky bed; b) internet; c) full English breakfast; d) ensuite; e) a regard for human comfort.

And here I am now. Taking advantage of that free wi-fi, obviously. In Battle. But I'll tell you more about that another time.

The Royal Pavilion

The Brighton Pier

All taken on the same stormy evening.

Bank holiday Monday - and yes, that's the English sea looking inviting.

I just took this trying to get a photo of some pretty muffins, but I love the way it happened to capture the expressions on the faces of the people walking by.

Metal detector man. I saw him several times on the beach. It must yield something but I thought it was funny.

snapshots, part II

2009-08-30T06:30:00.004+12:45

Really old gravestones. The oldest don't have pretty cherubs or crosses, but gruesome looking skulls - fantastic!

Atmospheric light in cathedrals.

Things that I think are funny. Fusion of the old with the new.

War memorials. This is from the memorial to New Zealand soldiers who fought in the world wars. I love it.

Absurd militaristic rituals preserved - hooray!

Blackberries! Most of them much healthier specimens than these, available in public parks, and highly edible.

snapshots, part I

2009-08-26T07:17:00.004+12:45

Space for prayer

Stained glass meets Marc Chagall

Sunshine

Statues and flowers, Kew Gardens

Icons

London streets

simple pleasures

2009-08-17T08:02:00.002+12:45

This is going to become a bit boring for you, but here it is: I am having a wonderful time in London.

It's been active and busy and I've seen stuff that I've wanted to see for a long time. This weekend it was the Tower of London, the Globe Theatre (from the outside but soon from the inside), and the National Portrait Gallery.

The funny thing is, as much as I've enjoyed those things, what I love most about London is more simple.

I love:

a) London's parks. Yesterday I spent time with a friend from university who lives here now, which in itself made me so happy, but we ended up collapsing onto the grass at St James' Park with exhausted feet and ice creams, and it was possibly the best part of the whole day, regardless of the historical wonders we had seen. And today I simply lay on the grass at the park down the road with a book, in the sun, looking up at the sky and the oak tree above me, feeling like I couldn't ask for anything more in the world. It helps that the weather is my idea of perfection.

b) Just coming across things that seem so novel and exciting to me, that I had no idea were around me. The main examples of this so far are all to do with Austen. It took me four days of studying at the British Library to discover that in the gallery just downstairs was Jane Austen's writing desk, one original volume of her juvenilia, and the original manuscript of Persuasion. On seeing this I just about burst into tears, and I couldn't explain why. The other thing was stumbling, in the National Portrait Gallery today, across the original miniature Cassandra Austen painted of her sister, and the only existing likeness that was taken of Jane Austen. Among the grandeur and the pomp of all these artists and subjects who were trying to impress with bigger or better paintings, this tiny, delicate little piece stood in stark contrast, and reminded me of why I love Austen so much. And the fact that it took me completely by surprise made it even better.

c) Travelling by train and by tube. Don't get me wrong, the tube can be thoroughly unpleasant, especially at rush hour. But it gives me a little satisfied thrill when I jump on and off them like a Londoner, figuring out all the links and changes and timetables. And travelling by overground train is generally less busy and also really rather scenic, if you go far out of central London. I sat on one for half an hour today just gazing out the window and feeling so relaxed.

I'm not saying that it hasn't been great, seeing all these historical and cultural landmarks. They have blown me away. But it's almost like you plan them too much, like you're so busy ticking things off your list that you don't get a chance to take a deep breath and enjoy them. It's not always the case, but it is the danger.

snapshots

2009-08-13T01:57:00.003+12:45

I don't really know where to begin. But I am currently sitting in the British Library, waiting for some newspapers to be delivered; I have free wi-fi access and no excuse not to blog about something. So, I am providing you with some snapshots of the last week, which feels like about four days.

Me and Karl Marx, at Highgate Cemetery.

The "Circle of Lebanon" at Highgate Cemetery. To anyone who is going to London - I would highly recommend this. Even if you're not a cemetery-junkie like me.

Tower Bridge. I spent a sunny Saturday in central London with the fantastic couple I'm staying with and their kids. I'd be walking along and wherever I turned my head there'd be some other famous, historical image that I've heard about all my life. We walked around the Tower of London but didn't go inside - that is for next weekend.

Buckingham Palace. Here, of course, I did enter. The Queen told me she liked my t-shirt. I reciprocated.

The flight here ... well, how to describe 30 hours of airports and cramped airplane seats? Thank goodness I had the foresight to purchase one of those inflatable neck-supporting cushions beforehand - on the final twelve-hour leg I actually managed to get some sleep, probably solely because of the cushion and the fact that I was absolutely shattered.

However, I will say that there were some cool elements of the flight. One of them was seeing a lightning storm from above as we flew over Brunei. I don't have words to describe how utterly awesome that was. The other was simply that I travelled to the opposite side of the globe, over soooo many countries. Following the flight path on our personal TV screens was thus pretty cool. My favourite part was flying over a tiny portion of Russia... which took hours.

reasons to be happy

2009-08-04T14:41:00.002+12:45

1) We had a Pride and Prejudice watching night at my flat a week or so ago. (Obviously - the five hour BBC version.) We created a facebook event and just invited anyone who might conceivably want to come - and crossed our fingers that all fifty people wouldn't show up! In the end, there were about fifteen or sixteen of us, and so we moved all the couches, beanbags, and so on into my room, the biggest in the house, and had a REALLY GOOD TIME. We actually had a few extremely keen males show up, which always makes me feel hopeful about the state of male-kind.

Organising party food also makes me happy, and arranging the carrot sticks and celery, as in the photo above, was one of the best bits.

2) On Saturday night I went to a screening of the 1925 Russian silent film, "Battleship Potemkin". One of THE classic movies, this was shown in the Christchurch Town Hall, with the Christchurch Symphony Orchestra playing the music - which was in this case written by Shostakovich. SUCH a good concert. Sadly I can't watch Soviet films without thinking "propaganda! propaganda!" anymore - but I could certainly admire the forward-thinking, beautiful cinematography, and the music was just amazing.

3) In 48 hours EXACTLY, I will be leaving for Europe. Now that I've got all my preparation pretty much done, I'm not panicky anymore, but EXCITED. And scared in a good kind of way.

precisely two weeks

2009-07-23T16:12:00.005+12:45

It is two weeks until I get on a plane and go to Europe for two months. I have been furiously studying and writing up until today, trying to finish a miniature version of my thesis for my supervisors before I go - and suddenly, there are no more major hurdles to cross before I go. It's frightening.

Because I'm a history geek, I thought I would share with you some places that I am DETERMINED to visit.

Krakow, Wieliczka salt mines, where salt has been produced since the 13th century. The miners themselves sculpted these salt figures around the mine. COOL.

An abbey somewhere in England. This one is Rievaulx Abbey, but I'm happy with any, really. This will only happen if, at the end of my trip, I have enough money for it.

Tower of London. Everyone who's been there who I've talked to has said it's not all it's cracked up to be. And still, I want to see it. Gruesomely enough, I just think it would be amazing to stand in the place where Anne Boleyn lost her head, or where Elizabeth I was imprisoned.

Budapest, Statue Park, where the Soviet-era statues are kept.

And because I'm a history geek with a particular interest in Marxism: Karl Marx's grave, Highgate Cemetery, London. Actually I'm planning on visiting a whole heap of cemeteries in London.

Jane Austen's grave, Winchester Cathedral. Self-explanatorily cool.

The Church of Bones, Kutna Hora, Czech Republic. Since I have a taste for the grotesque, how could I NOT visit a church that is decorated with human skeletons, some from the Black Death or the Hussite Wars?

Auschwitz-Birkenau, or Oświęcim. Poland. Not at all cool but just something that I think I need to see.

This is all on the assumption that I don't lose all my bags, or get robbed, or do something really stupid within moments of getting to the UK, and turn around and go straight home.

Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince

2009-07-21T14:01:00.001+12:45

I went to see Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince on the weekend - surprisingly, loved it! The only Harry Potter movie that I liked up until now was the Prisoner of Azkaban, although the Goblet of Fire wasn't bad. So I wasn't expecting much.

I think they did a fantastic job of making a complicated book understandable. They cut things out, yeah, and the purists will have an issue with that, I guess. But we all know that when you turn a novel into a movie you have to change stuff, and I think they changed the right stuff.

The two stand-out performances were, for me, the young Tom Riddle of Dumbledore's memories - who looked like a choir-boy but was deliciously creepy. The other was Jim Broadbent as Horace Slughorn. I've always liked Jim Broadbent - it's difficult not to - but I don't know if I've ever liked him as much as I did in this movie. He was exactly the right choice for Slughorn. He also made me giggle with delight for approximately two minutes after his hilarious, PERFECT performance at the funeral of Aragog.

are you kidding me?

2009-07-19T08:56:00.003+12:45

I was woken at an unknown hour last night by the telephone. I have the privilege of one of the larger, more sunny bedrooms in the flat but the disadvantage of being the only one likely to hear the telephone at night. After a moment of lying in bed going "nnnnnnn" I decided it could be an emergency and jumped up to get it.

"Hello?" I grunted.

"Hi, is Wendy there?" [Not her real name. A guest who is currently sleeping in the sleep-out - a room attached to the garage rather than the house.]

"Yes... but I'm not going to take the phone to her at this time of night."

"Oh, okay. I'll ring her back some other time."

HANG UP. Turn on my cell phone to check the time; it's 2:50am.

Seriously??? You had to wake me up at that hour of the morning on the assumption that I would stagger out of bed, put on shoes and warm clothes, and carry the phone to your girlfriend (as I think it was her boyfriend calling) whose bedroom is not inside, and who is probably asleep? All for a non-emergency?

Possible reasons: a) sheer stupidity; b) forgetfulness; c) the assumption that as we are all students, we party the nights away in blissful freedom from the necessity of sleep; d) cruelty?

Grrr! GRRRRRRRR!!

memory

2009-07-04T13:50:00.004+12:45

Tomorrow the theme at church is going to be "Memories", apparently. I was rung up and asked to be one of three people who will share a few of their vivid memories of anything. Hm, I thought. What will mine be?

Sometime during the years 1988-1990

Finding out that some food (generally my favourite) is bad for you. Before, I had thought that my parents wouldn't give me more dessert or chocolate or whatever because they didn't have any more, or they wanted it for themselves. The day I found out that when I was a rich grown-up, I still wouldn't be able to eat all the chocolate I wanted - that was the day I lost my innocence. I compare it to finding out about death.

1993

My big brother married a Chinese Malaysian woman, and so at their wedding there was a traditional Chinese Tea Ceremony. I was one of the family members chosen - because I was younger, I would serve them tea and they would give me a red envelope with a whole FIVE DOLLAR NOTE in it. It was very exciting.

When the ceremony was announced at the wedding reception, my mother poked me in the arm. "This is your turn," she said. "Off you go." I walked nervously out of the crowd towards the tea table, and everyone started laughing at me. It was NOT my turn. I felt completely humiliated as everyone laughed at me and said how cute, and I had to walk back into the crowd, and then out again when it was my real turn. Mum apologised but I have never quite forgotten the embarrassment, even though I think now, "well, it wasn't THAT bad, as embarrassments go".

2001

Reading Pride and Prejudice for the first time.

I re-read it recently, after a long time of not reading it, and besides enjoying it HUGELY, I got very vivid flashbacks to when I read it the first time - a feeling of absolute delight that an author like this existed. It felt like my own discovery.

domesticity

2009-07-01T13:13:00.003+12:45

I share meals with two of my flatmates, so I cook at least once a week now. Which is great, because if it's only once or twice a week I have the energy to try new things, be creative. Some of the things have turned out beautifully so I thought I'd share them with you! Starting with this:

Butter chicken soup

I ate the leftovers for lunch today and only remembered halfway through to document the process for you. Here is half a bowl of the yummiest soup I've had in a while. Unfortunately you can't see the white blob of yoghurt and the coriander scattered on top - because I ate them! - but it looked very pretty at the start.

I got this recipe a long time ago from a recipe book called "Destitute Gourmet", but didn't use it until last night.

Marinade for chicken:

1 TB lemon juice 1 t coriander 1 t grated fresh ginger

1 t cumin 1 t chilli powder 2 cloves garlic, crushed

(I cheated and used already crushed garlic and ginger.)

Soup ingredients:

1 large boneless chicken breast 1 TB butter

1 finely chopped onion 1 t coriander

1 t cumin 1/4 t chilli powder

1 t ginger 1 can diced tomatoes (with juice) [400g/1 lb]

3 cups chicken stock 1/4 cup basmati rice

2 TB tomato paste 1 TB plain flour

2 TB brown sugar 1/4 cup cream or milk

Natural yoghurt and fresh coriander to garnish

Marinade thin slices of the chicken for at least one hour in the fridge.

To make the soup, melt the butter in a medium saucepan and add marinated chicken and chopped onion. Stir constantly until chicken is sealed and the onion is soft. Add the dried spices and ginger, then stir in the tomatoes and chicken stock.

When simmering, pour in the basmati rice, stir, and simmer for 10 minutes. Mix together the tomato paste and flour and whisk this, a little at a time, into the soup. Add the brown sugar and cream, and season to taste. Serve in soup bowls with a dollop of natural yoghurt and some chopped fresh coriander. Provide some torn-up naan bread for dunking. (Although I just used a baguette and that was better than fine!)

Such a yummy meal. If I do say so myself, I don't think I've ever had a nicer soup. And there are so many things in its favour - butter chicken without the fattiness of the original curry; a more authentic-tasting butter chicken without the skody Westernization that tastes like, well, butter and chicken; it's really quick - probably about 30-40 minutes including preparation; almost all the ingredients are things that we would have in the pantry or freezer anyway. The only things I had to go and buy were the coriander, which totally makes the meal (and which is now growing on our kitchen windowsill), a tiny tub of natural yoghurt, and the baguette.

It's a really good hearty meal for winter (we are freezing in our student flat, and meals have to warm us) but I have a feeling it would not be too much in summer either. It serves probably about four hungry people as a main, or if it was an entree it would serve six easily.

three degrees of separation

2009-06-29T10:37:00.002+12:45

The godfather of the pastor at my church was an interpreter for the British Embassy in Moscow. He met Stalin on numerous occasions. To use the bathroom in the Kremlin from the room where diplomatic negotiations were carried out, he had to walk through Stalin's bedroom (one single iron bed sitting in the middle of the room). He heard the Soviet leaders cracking jokes which made no sense at all then but make all the sense in the world now. He heard them talking about people who had been discovered as not very "loyal" and had been "shifted" to "another department".

I think there's a danger for me, studying history, to treat it like a branch of English literature. Gathering information and sorting it into a pattern; making clever deductions, links, arguments; compartmentalizing and boxing and fitting in; writing with clarity and creativity. All of which is necessary but sometimes masks the fact that this stuff actually happened. It's REAL. It gives me a little shock to be reminded that what I'm doing is something important and something that needs to be remembered, something that really happened to real people who disappeared off the face of the earth.

leaving, on a jet plane

2009-06-26T13:49:00.004+12:45

It's all getting real, and when it's getting real, it's getting exciting.

I am holding plane tickets in my hot little hand RIGHT NOW - okay, so a few seconds ago, as right now, I'm typing. They look like this:

Aug 6-7: Christchurch > Sydney > Singapore > London

Sept 29-Oct 1: London > Singapore > Sydney > Christchurch

Along with this is an Oyster card (slightly discounted rates for public transport in London, which is just ridiculously priced from the point of view of New Zealand dollars), a Eurail pass for Eastern Europe, and an ISIC card (international student card).

Free accomodation is practically sorted in London, a HUGE thanks to several acquaintances who have offered to have me to stay (or who agreed to my offer of myself to stay!). Extremely cheap accomodation in Brighton for one week is almost sorted. Probably within the next week flights to Europe will be sorted.

I actually bought the flights a week or two ago, but I was so freaked out by the amount of money they cost, and by the amount of work I have to do before I go, that I didn't really think about it.

Anyway, me? A poor student? Somehow managing to get to Europe this year? I've always expected that, sometime in the next ten years, I would be able to go. But definitely not this soon. That is probably why it didn't seem at all realistic. But now... I'm very, VERY excited. And very grateful.

Dunedin

2009-06-19T12:32:00.004+12:45

I went down to Dunedin on the weekend, with one of my sisters and her family, to see two other sisters and their families! Had an absolutely lovely time hanging out with my siblings, their spouses, their kids. We stayed with the sister who has just moved house - and by gum it is a good location. They are still in the city but up the hill and around the peninsula a little, so from their kitchen window they can see out to sea, but if they take a short walk in the other direction, into the reserve right next door, they can see right down the harbour on the other side of the hill.

I went for a walk on Sunday morning to catch some views. I love that sunrise in winter is quite late, so these photos didn't require extreme earliness. That view was quite something.

There's something about Dunedin in the sun that is just - phwoar. It's still freezing cold, but it's the prettiest city. If only it were always sunny there!

I also enjoyed playing with my sister's cute dog, who was a tiny wee puppy last time I saw him and is now a boisterous but reasonably well behaved Jack Russell/bichon frise cross. We took him to the dog park, where he and other dogs delighted us. Example: this hilarious video - Oscar and a big German Shepherd playing hide and seek. Enjoy!

If you're the praying type, I'd appreciate you glancing at the post previous to this.

prayer request

2009-06-19T11:21:00.002+12:45

The baby of a facebook friend of mine was kidnapped last night. Please pray.

even Elizabethan playwrights need their privacy

2009-06-15T23:30:00.005+12:45

I've been planning planning planning today for my European trip. Tomorrow I will buy tickets, then I will knuckle down and work really really hard so I have enough done by the time I need to go. But today was devoted to travel.

I google-mapped the British Library, where I will be spending most of my time in London, and found this street view picture of it:

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You will probably need to fiddle with this picture a little by turning it slightly to the left and slightly upwards, but...

I think it's hilarious that Google Maps picked up the picture of Shakespeare on the wall of the building and automatically blurred his face! And so I am sharing it with you!

By the way, as I write, there is a rat making merry in our kitchen. It is FREAKING ME OUT. It is at times like this I wish I was a) rich so that I had my own fully rodent-secure house, and b) married so I wasn't lying in bed by myself trying not to feel tense and frightened. The drama over the last week... all caused by one rat and one mouse who have taken up residence in our flat and have so far outwitted all attempts at trapping/murdering them. I used to feel slightly bad about the fact that we have to kill them just because they want somewhere warm to live... I no longer care. I just want to sleep securely.

washing machine from hell

2009-06-10T14:08:00.003+12:45

Just a quick note - if you are feeling depressed and need something to cheer you up:

GO TO THIS LINK.

Actually, go to it even if you're already happy. It made my WEEK.

Make sure you read all the comments.

Update: This whole story has gotten pretty crazy - it's been on national news, so far almost 150,000 hits on the page, and a range of t-shirts have come out based on the illustrations. All over the last 24 hours. Crazy! The illustrations are now being sold for charity.

eeee!!!!

2009-06-09T20:24:00.004+12:45

I am probably going to be going:

here: Krakow, Poland;

here: Prague, Czech Republic;

here: Vienna, Austria

here: Budapest, Hungary;

and here: Ljubljana, Slovenia!

Turns out I didn't have to pick just one place :) and I am EXCITED!

David Bain

2009-06-06T12:16:00.002+12:45

New Zealand has, over the last three months, been watching an important trial take place. The retrial of David Bain, fourteen years after his family was murdered. Bain was convicted in 1995 of the murder of his father, mother, brother and two sisters, and spent the next twelve years in jail. In 2007, the Privy Council decided that this was a "substantial miscarriage of justice". The re-trial has taken place over the last few months. Yesterday evening, the jury returned a verdict of "not guilty" on all five counts of murder.

The other theory of what happened is that his father, Robin Bain, killed the others while David was out of the house, and then killed himself. David returned, and found his entire family dead.

The horrible thing about this case is that there is just not enough proof either way. There are damning circumstances on either side. But never proof. The police happened to "lose" a lot of important material that could have had a bearing on the argument that Robin Bain did it. So there will be a large amount of people around the country who still believe that David did it. Right now, he is probably the most famous person in the country, and he will never be allowed to forget this case and move on fully.

I don't think he did it. But even if he did, I wonder how it happened that he ever got convicted in the first place. It seems that the police and the media made some rather huge assumptions, even tampered with evidence, didn't follow up other leads, and it is absolutely shocking that the principle of "innocent until proven guilty" was so distorted in this case at the beginning. It is incredibly frightening that an innocent man--or at the very least a man who could in no way be proven guilty--should be left to rot in prison for thirteen years, only being given a chance to appeal his case because he was lucky enough to find a wealthy and determined supporter, Joe Karam, to fight for him and shell out millions of dollars for his cause.

I am only happy that David Bain is now a free man. I hope he can move on with his life, and be left alone by the media, who were following him like hounds last night in the hope of emotional footage (which they got). I am also extremely happy that New Zealand does not have the death penalty - at least Bain got his chance to appeal at all.

a secret no more

2009-05-30T00:21:00.005+12:45

I am a Sort-of Modern Girl. Although the idea of getting married isn't all bad and I'd like to get married one day, I'm not hanging out for it and I don't think I'd mind staying single. Really! It's true! Please believe me, despite what I'm about to tell you!

I have a THING for collecting walking-up-the-aisle music.

It started when a friend of mine got engaged and asked me if I knew good wedding music. I went home, spent a whole afternoon and evening listening to music, and made her a mix CD. Of course, it turned out she didn't want classical music (a standpoint I simply can't understand), least of all the sort of music I recommended, which were definitely not the traditional wedding songs. She ended up unable to find a modern walking-up-the-aisle song, and fell back on Pachelbel's "Canon in D". Now, I am not saying there is anything wrong with "Canon in D", or "Jesu Joy of Man's Desiring" or "Trumpet Voluntary" or any of the other standard wedding songs; in fact, I think they're beautiful and appropriate, but I've just heard them so many times at weddings, and I want to be a little more creative in my choice.

Then another friend got engaged, and soon after I was hooked on collecting wedding music. I now have a playlist on my iPod of possible wedding music. Some of it more possible, some of it less so. I justify it by saying it's for friends. But I know if I get engaged, ever, the choice of music for walking up the aisle will be just about the most important decision to do with the ceremony, in my eyes. And woe betide the fiance who gets in my way!!

So here is my list of ideas for slightly original wedding music.

Classical

Symphony No. 3 in C Minor, by Saint-Saens. [the first few minutes] You're going to have to have a BIG personality, or at the very least a big cathedral to pull this one off. Okay, so it's a bit OTT for a wedding - and I don't blame my friends for turning down this option - but something in me WISHES I could walk up the aisle to music like this. Maybe if I marry Prince William like I intended when I was nine.

Nimrod, by Elgar. This is an absolutely gorgeous piece of music with a perfect crescendo, I think, building up to what could easily be the entrance of the bride. It has slightly bittersweet overtones, but not too much so - easily could be interpreted joyously.

Ode to St. Cecilia's Day, by Handel. This is a lovely, lovely, happy piece that my recorder ensemble used to play. Definitely in keeping with the wedding vibe, but not especially well-known.

Madrigal, from Romeo and Juliet, by Prokofiev. Dreamy, pretty, romantic... Creating exactly the right sort of feeling, I think. A charming little flute part at the beginning that would be perfect for the flowergirls walking in, then building up with the bridesmaids and the bride.

Rhapsody on a Theme by Paganini, by Rachmaninoff. I can't claim this to be my own idea, as my sister used it for walking up the aisle at her own wedding, but I remember thinking it was a lovely, classy choice. The only thing that's necessary, I think, is a reasonable-sized wedding party, or the gaps between bridesmaids and bride may be too long, as it builds so beautifully towards the bride's entrance, and you can't really cut it off early.

Wedding Day at Troldhaugen, by Grieg. Obviously not my idea, given the title, and it so happens that another sister walked up the aisle to this (as did I, as I was her bridesmaid). We only played the last section of it, about two and a half minutes, which was sectioned perfectly for our bridal party - one flowergirl, three bridesmaids, and then the dramatic entry of the bride. I would recommend this one more highly than any of the others, because it is an AWESOME piece of music, unusual enough not to bore people, but totally suited to a wedding. Some people dislike it because it's not quite as dignified (or dull?) as some wedding music, but I love it!

Bist du bei mir, by Stolzel. This is a gorgeous song for voice and keyboard accompaniment, and is not unusual at weddings. My suggestion to make it your own is to have piano or organ accompaniment, with an alto recorder on the tune. I know, I know, you've never heard a recorder played pleasantly. Honestly, an alto recorder is perfect for this song, and if you will pay my flights and accomodation, I'll come and show you!! Otherwise, find a good recorder player, and they will show you.

Finlandia, by Sibelius. Okay, so not the whole thing - that would be incredibly inappropriate. However, if you have a pipe organ in the church you're using, I once heard a pipe organ version of this song which I thought would totally fit the occasion. Start from about 3:30 in, and go up to the point at which the famous hymn tune begins. A grand wedding march!

Rustle of Spring, by Sinding. This is a beautiful piano piece, evocative of spring and happiness! Another piece with a fantastic build-up towards the entrance of the bride.

Cello Suite #1 in G, by Bach. This would be an amazing and VERY classy entry. My only concern is that it's slightly sombre, but although it wouldn't work for everyone, I think some people it would suit precisely.

Fantasia on Greensleeves, by Leonard Bernstein. The beginning section of this is atmospheric, romantic, and would create a really special feeling as the bride walked the aisle, I think. Almost like she was walking on air.

Non-Classical

So I don't really approve of walking up the aisle to modern music... but because you're my friend, and if you absolutely INSIST on it, here's some ideas for some modern instrumental music - mostly from films, funnily enough - that wouldn't be completely horrible.

Message to my Girl, played by Carl Doy. [instrumental version of the Split Enz song]

Forrest Gump theme.

Pepinot, from the film "Les Choristes". Gorgeous song.

PM's Love Theme, from "Love Actually". A little OTT but if you're into that...

Maggie and Finn, from "Waking Ned Devine". Celtic feel - lovely.

Bridge over Troubled Water. I have an instrumental version of this played on piano by Karel Roessingh which wouldn't be bad.

And one vocal song which actually would be kind of lovely: Fix You, Coldplay

My Secret Weapon

Finally, The Song that I want to walk up the aisle to. It is a close call with "Wedding Day at Troldhaugen", but at least Troldhaugen is specifically a wedding song and if someone else uses it, I can still use it. This song, however, is not a traditional wedding song, and I do not tell my friends about it, in case they steal it. I feel about it similarly to how you'd feel if your best friend or sibling used the name you've been holding on to since you were ten for their child.

However, my siblings are all married now, and my face-to-face friends don't read this blog, and so I am going to break my silence. Drum roll, please.

Romance, from The Gadfly, by Shostakovich. Not all interpretations of this work for weddings, but I have a recording of it which is probably on iTunes everywhere - the artists on this version are Tamsin Little and Piers Lane. It is the most beautiful piece of violin music I have ever heard, with piano accompaniment. It is the perfect timing for a walk up the aisle - about three minutes. It crescendoes perfectly. I can't say enough good things about it.

So there you have it. My secret is yours. Use it well.

buy me!

2009-05-27T20:02:00.004+12:45

I have a weakness for good advertising. There's so much shoddiness out there when it comes to ads that if a really good one comes along (and isn't played too often) - I get happy! And I want to buy things! May this encourage you, advertising magnates, to be more creative, feel-good and funny. Anyway, I thought I'd share a few of my favourite NZ ads with you.

This is one of my favourites ever, from a few years ago, and - I am absolutely certain - is voiced by Jemaine Clement of Flight of the Conchords, before he got well-known. It advertises L&P, New Zealand's very own soft drink. Please don't be put off by the exceedingly well-chosen picture for the video:

Possibly one of my favourites at the moment, this is advertising a promotion for Cup-of-Soup:

This is one of a series of ads for Instant Kiwi. To tell the truth, I don't know exactly what this has to do with Instant Kiwi (lotto tickets), but it never fails to make me smile:

This is a slightly older ad, but I've always remembered it because I thought it was so sweet:

Deathbeds - so much potential for advertising, it would seem:

What are your favourite commercials?

mall etiquette

2009-05-23T15:57:00.005+12:45

It has been really miserable weather here in Christchurch for the last, oh, two weeks [substitute "what feels like eternity"], except for a few days of spring-like sunshine and warmth, which I think made it even worse - just as you begin to defrost a little and to think that maybe this will last, BOOM! back comes the rain, the sleet, the hail, the rain and more rain. We've even had snow but it didn't settle on the waterlogged ground.

Last year this was all kind of fun, because I was living at home with my dad, with (a) zero appreciation of power bills, (b) heated towel rails and such-like, (c) a new-ish house, (d) a clothes dryer, and (e) a car. This year, I have none of the above. My flatmates and I even have rules about not using heaters and so on. I have discovered that freezing cold living quarters are not all that bad if you dress up warm, but no matter how many items of clothing you are wearing, it is impossible to be comfortable if you have cold hands and feet. Fingerless gloves have made studying a whole lot easier, but my feet are ALWAYS COLD.

So, despite the horrific weather today, I went to the mall, for the purpose of investing in WARM SOCKS. My umbrella broke on the way, my jeans got soaked up to the shins, but I no longer have cold feet. I also have very cute feet because this time I didn't get boring black socks.

It turns out that half of Christchurch was at Riccarton Mall today - or so it seemed. And this brings me (in a very circuitous way) to the main point of this blog post:

MALL ETIQUETTE

1) Walking through the mall.

A brisk yet measured walk should be the order of the day. If you are stopping as you go to gaze at shop displays, keep to the left. However, if you are wandering aimlessly through the mall simply because it is heated and you had nothing else to do, it is polite to either keep out of other people's way, or to walk at a more bearable pace for the people behind you. Exceptions will be made for the elderly or those with impediments such as crutches, which brings us to another rule of etiquette: be patient in cases where a slow walk really cannot be helped.

If you are one of a gaggle of teenage girls, try to remember not to walk five- or six-abreast. You are giving your age group a bad reputation.

If you are a teenage boy, repeat this mantra: "Be civilised. Be civilised." Do NOT start beating up another random kid with your friends (as I was unlucky enough to witness). It's not impressive, and the mall, which is not the bad part of town on a Saturday night, is not the ideal location for you to go all Stone Age.

2) The clothes stores.

When I was wandering round the women's clothes department at Farmers today, I became what is termed "boxed in" in dancing and shopping terminology. This simple diagram may explain my predicament.

X O X

O ALLIE O

X O X

[Where X = shopper and O = clothing stand.]

If you are shopping - please! Look out for potential "Allie"s. Don't fence them in. Remember, to them, you are just another shopper, and if you don't listen to "excuse me"s and continue to get in their way, they may take out their frustration on you. Instead, pull aside - perhaps with an apologetic smile - and let them out.

3) The changing rooms.

When it's a busy day, and there is a line of shoppers waiting at the changing rooms entrance, do not - I repeat - do NOT walk in, blithely ignoring the "Limit 4 garments" sign, and proceed to sit your boyfriend/girlfriends outside your door, subjecting each of the 12 items you are trying on to a detailed analysis in front of the mirror at the end of the hall. When you are finished with your garments, hang them on the rack that has been left there for that purpose - do NOT leave them lying all over the changing room so that the next customer has to either hang them up or walk all over them.

So! Hopefully that has all been cleared up, and now we can all actually enjoy the mall.

writer's block

2009-05-09T13:55:00.007+12:45

I have been trying to think of something to write about for what feels like ages now, so that you no longer have to look at bright blue and pink cupcakes every time you open this page. Unfortunately, I'm slowly falling into the state of mind I fell into last year when I first started getting into my research - being unable to think about any ideas beyond the very beginning of them, unless they are somehow related to my study. So the blog post today is a blog post of fragments:

- I have just been reading a speech that was read at the Second National Congress of Peace and Friendship with the U.S.S.R., in London, 1937. The speaker was Mr. Dingle Foot. Perchance the funniest name ever?

- On Monday I am meeting the Prime Minister of New Zealand. I didn't vote for his party and I would prefer it to be the former PM, but still - it's kind of exciting!

- My two-year-old niece is in love with Jeff, from the Wiggles. If you haven't come across this children's entertainment group, well, don't go rushing to buy a DVD. However, she loves them, and especially Jeff, who is always sleepy. She has had dreams about him, and she insists on wearing a "sleeping hat" to bed because Jeff always wears one. She informs me and everyone else just about every time I see her: "I like purple. Jeff is purple. He's always sleeping."

- I graduated about a month ago, complete with funny hat and Harry Potter/gospel choir gown and pink hood. I could have graduated a year ago with my BA but decided to wait until I had my BA (Hons) degree. It was fun - we got to march through town, police holding up traffic for us, led by a bagpiper, and then to file into the Town Hall to the blare of a pipe organ. Walking across the stage, trying to remember to hold your trencher in your left hand, smile, shake with the right, take certificate with the right, put on trencher with the strings hanging over the left edge, then walk down the stairs without tripping - I know we all have university qualifications, but that's complicated!!!

who said that students eat badly?

2009-04-23T23:56:00.004+12:45

Flatting is fun. Why?

Because at birthday times, we get to do silly things like make a hundred-odd cupcakes and decorate them garishly.

And then to eat them all!

who the heck?

2009-04-20T17:45:00.003+12:45

Every time I've looked up my Statcounter page for this website recently, under "Keyword Analysis" I see that rather a lot of people have come to my blog looking for Rockell Welch.

Who the heck is Rockell Welch?

And what sort of name is that?

And when did I ever mention him/her/it?

world travel without leaving your home

2009-04-17T16:33:00.004+12:45

The highlight of having a new MacBook should be its operating system or its tiny lightweight design or its freedom from virus attack... but for me, it's the COMPLETELY FUN Photo Booth application!! And it got me thinking - all the agonising I've been doing about which European destination I should visit in September, and yet I don't really need to go at all! The world is at my fingertips here in Christchurch, and given that tourism these days seems to consist of getting photos of yourself in cool destinations, why leave home? Here I am in:

Athens. What an amazing place. Just so... amazing.

Here I am in Vienna. Notice my change in outfit for the colder clime. Try to refrain from noticing the not-so-perfect computer graphics.

And in Venice. My gosh, what a stunning spot; it was like my camera was permanently attached to my face.

After Venice I went a little further down the Italian coast to Amalfi. Where I sat on a roof for this photo. Highly recommended.

And here I am in Switzerland, marvelling at the Jungfrau. I did try braiding my hair for this location but it made me look like an eight-year-old so instead you can see how utterly blown away I am by this spectacular place.

Prague. I can't even try to explain what it's like to be in Prague. When you've been there, you'll understand.

And here I am in Ephesus, Turkey. I'm not sure if the Apostle Paul ever imagined me standing here doing the V sign that all tourists seem to do...

In Red Square, Moscow. It was pretty cold, so it was lucky I brought my woolly hat, right?

Then on the way home, I popped back over to England, and happened to run into Jane Austen! What a coincidence. It doesn't exactly look like it in this photo, but she and I are good chums.

I feel extravagant

2009-04-15T15:38:00.001+12:45

This is my new best friend:

and I love her/him!!!

Any suggestions for a name?

My Traumatic Near-Death Experience

2009-04-09T21:58:00.005+12:45

So, about two weeks ago I started noticing that my hands were slightly blue at times, especially night-time. I remembered having problems with bad circulation and numbness in my hands causing the same problem back when I was 14 and had RSI in my arms, and assumed I must be coming close to getting RSI again. I showed my sister and brother-in-law, who are doctors, but they had no idea what was going on.

Imagine my horror when I got into the shower one night and noticed... MY THIGHS WERE BLUE!!! Great Scott, this can't be RSI! What dread disease have I?

Freaking out a little, I told my flatmates, who were just as mystified as me. I wasn't sure what to do but decided to leave it for a little while and if it continued, to visit a doctor and find out what life-threatening malady I suffered from.

Then, I noticed something about the white towel I had used that night - it had blue marks on it. Okay, so that can't be my skin turning blue or my blood turning blue or something if it rubs off, right?

And then I had my brainwave - NEW JEANS! Jeans, furthermore, which hadn't been washed yet at the time. Relief! The denim of my new jeans had left blue marks on me, and being bootlegged, had only affected my thighs. Silly me! Hahaha!

But still, my hands were bothering me. It was obviously a completely different issue. Besides, the blue on my hands didn't really wash off, or if it disappeared after washing, it was only because the hot water had heated my hands up.

Until I realised about a week later, when I gave my blue hands a really good scrubbing with cold water and the blue did come off, how much I pull my hands in and out of the pockets of my jeans... oh, oops. How embarrassing. Now my flatmates think I'm a hypochondriac and my sister and brother-in-law have another embarrassing story to bring up at family gatherings.

By the way - this happens to be my 500th post. :) That's quite a lot of them, really. Please ignore the first couple of hundred.

reasons to be happy

2009-04-06T11:27:00.006+12:45

Norwester sunsets.

Christchurch's norwest winds can be horrible in summer, but when they produce an atmosphere like they did last night, when I was walking home from the mall gazing at a sunset that looked like something out of a Renaissance painting or like how you imagine Jesus' return... I love 'em!

Brisk walking.My two gorgeous nieces who have just moved back to Christchurch. SO much fun to spend time with them (they are aged two, and eleven months respectively).

Dreaming up places to go in Europe.

My Masters topic. I LOVE it!! Finally, I am fully motivated.

Chicken katsu, which I had last night at the mall before walking home as the sun set.

The Scissor Sisters' song "I Don't Feel Like Dancing". This song makes me HAPPY! I listened to it last night as I walked along the road watching the sun set. :) Do you sense a pattern here?

Autumn! Especially on campus, which is full of ugly buildings but lots and lots of trees. You don't even notice all the concrete in autumn because the trees are so glorious.

Book shopping. Especially at Christchurch's old Smith's Bookshop on Colombo Street. That place is exactly how secondhand bookshops should be!

Related to autumn : crunchy leaves to step on. Deep satisfaction!

[NB: None of these photos are mine except the nieces one.]

adventure

2009-03-31T21:09:00.008+13:45

Eeeee! I'm going to Europe! Suddenly it has become a reality.

Okay, so something could go horribly wrong and it might not happen and it's still months away (probably September) and I really shouldn't be planning this early - and still, I'm excited!

I'll be spending most of my time studying hard in one archive in London and another in Brighton, but I'll have several weekends free, and hopefully if I can afford it I might tack a little extra time onto the end.

One weekend will be spent in Bath at the Jane Austen Festival - that's non-negotiable! Probably another weekend will be spent somewhere else in the UK. And then I have one weekend (maybe two if I'm very, very lucky) to dispose of in continental Europe or Scandinavia - eeeeeeee!!!

This creates a problem. I have to choose one (maybe two) destinations in the whole of Europe. Here's some of the options (and given that this trip is still about five months away, I will probably find a few more to pop into the mix). What do you think? What would YOU choose? Have you been to any of these places? Would you recommend any additions to the list? (Bear in mind that I will be going in early autumn.) In no particular order:

Vilnius, Lithuania

It was my brother-in-law's favourite place in Europe. That's quite a call to make.
Venice, Italy
I mean, just look at that photo!

St. Petersburg, Russia

Um, well, I'm doing Russian history, and I'm learning the Russian language... seems like a sensible choice!

Rome, Italy

The Colosseum, opera, the Vatican...

Salzburg, Austria

The home of Mozart and The Sound of Music! Poor Salzburg, there's probably much more to it than that...

Prague, Czech Republic

I've just heard so many good things about Prague - can all those people be wrong?

Pompeii, Italy

This was number one on my list of places I must see before I die. I have to admit it's pretty high up there on this list.

Nuremberg, Germany

History!!! Beauty!! HIIIISTORY!!!!

Munich, Germany

Ditto!

Istanbul, Turkey

I know this is pushing the boundaries of Europe, but I think it's close enough, don't you?
Iceland

Alone among all the destinations, I could not decide on what photo to use for this country, so I ended up choosing two - type "Iceland" into google images and you will be blown away by stunning landscape after stunning landscape. I couldn't even pick one location in the whole country!

Bergen, Norway
I've wanted to go to Norway for ages. It's all because of Grieg and Roald Dahl.

Ephesus, Turkey
HISTORY!!!! Going to see things I've read about in the Bible all my life? Pretty amazing!

Budapest, Hungary
A friend once sent me a text message from Budapest that went something like this: "I'm in Budapest, it's snowing and it looks exactly like a fairy tale!" I've never been able to forget the intense jealousy I felt at the time.

Bern, Switzerland

or alternatively a train trip through the Swiss Alps...
Either sound good to me!

Athens, Greece

How could this not be on my list?

Later additions:

Bruges, Belgium

Vienna, Austria

Cracow, Poland

Florence, Italy

Dubrovnik, Croatia

why everything is extraordinary and statistics are pointless

2009-03-31T01:03:00.005+13:45

Have you ever considered the long line of people who went before you? Sometimes I think about all the possibilities... what if my great-great-grandfather had decided to stay in England instead of coming out to New Zealand, and what if the philanthropic German Count had decided against sending a bunch of German peasants, including my great-great-great-grandfather and -grandmother, to New Zealand? Henry wouldn't have met Mary Ann, and Ernst wouldn't have met Anna. Children would not have followed, and I would not have been here today.

What if my grandmother had died at an early age of a fever? In the grand scheme of things, imagine all the people who could have died along the way and mucked up the lineage that produced Me?! World history seems to be littered with wars, famine, sickness, and accidents, let alone chance meetings that could have resulted in different couplings that could have resulted in different children who would not have produced Me!

I'm making it sound a little ridiculous, I think, and I'm not saying that history has been working with one single purpose - the production of me. :) Of course, given all these accidents, wars, and sickness, perhaps I am a ghastly mistake - let's hope not.

But hasn't the thought occurred to you? The thought of the odds that were stacked against you appearing on this planet at all?

This is why I think statistics are a completely useless way to predict the future. What does it matter if you have X% chance of living past a certain age, or X% chance of not getting a divorce, or X% chance of avoiding cancer? Simply the fact that we are here at all is an infinitely unlikely chance. The odds are stacked just as high against us meeting a man called Edgar or stepping on a cockroach tomorrow as they are against us succeeding in something we set our minds to - and yet we meet Edgar and we squash a cockroach and we think nothing of it.

It's late at night and I'm not sure if this is coming across very clearly. What I'm trying to say is: everything is extraordinary. Especially if we have a chance to get used to it. Statistics may have some inherent logic, and some proof in the practicalities of life, but as far as our own lives go, they have no way of telling us where we fit into the statistics. They're like tarot cards with a scientific veneer.

warning - may contain long-winded whinging

2009-03-30T13:37:00.003+13:45

Those of you who are friends with me on facebook will probably have thought that my status updates for the last little while are really quite whingey, and if you're not from New Zealand, you probably won't have a clue what I'm complaining about. "Allie wonders if Studylink was set up simply to distract students from their study." "Allie should be awarded a diploma in negotiating with government and university departments over a long period of time and managing to stay calm." I've joined a facebook group that is called: "Dealing with Studylink is more challenging than my degree."

Those who have to live with me have also noticed a peculiar level of aggression in their flatmate. I emerge from my room at odd times, knock on their door, and proceed to tell them everything that has managed to go wrong with my enrolment, and now with my Studylink applications. I make phone calls to Studylink, and after hanging up, start screaming or grinding my teeth in a menacing fashion.

For those lucky readers of this blog who don't have to deal with New Zealand universities or government departments, Studylink is the department of the government that deals with student loans and student allowances. Yes, I get free money from the government for part of my living costs, because my parent earns under a certain threshold. Technically, I should be very thankful to Studylink for providing me with funds, and I am...

And yet, in reality, my student allowance is my legal entitlement. And Studylink have managed to muck up my application in just about every possible way this year.

First of all, my enrolment with the university took a ridiculously long time (not Studylink's fault). The entire History department had to approve my proposal before I could even get enrolled, and once that was approved, my enrolment was lost somewhere in the computer system of the College of Arts. After four or so weeks of waiting (living off my savings and borrowing from my father), the enrolment finally went through. Hooray! Now I can start eating again!

Or so I thought.

First, Studylink claimed that I still wasn't enrolled. Back and forth, back and forth, between the university and Studylink - finally, they admit I am a student.

Second, Studylink claimed that I wasn't a full-time student, and therefore am not entitled to my allowance. [If doing a Masters degree PLUS an undergraduate course in Russian doesn't make you full-time, I don't know what does.] After several phone calls, they told me just to wait, and it would get sorted out in the next few days.

Next, after several more phone calls, they told me I had to make two separate applications for the one student allowance - one application for my Russian course, and one application for my MA. In my second application, I have to send in all the same information again - my father's income, proof of money I'll be receiving - even though I've sent in the exact same information for my other application.

So it looks like I won't be receiving student allowance this week. Seven weeks into the semester, and Studylink + the university have managed to muck up almost every aspect of my enrolment. I am hundreds of dollars in debt because I haven't had the means to pay for my rent/food, and I am stressed and ready to rip my hair out when I should be studying.

When I am a dictator, I am going to reform bureaucracy or just get rid of it altogether. That alone will give me total power because everyone will love me for it.

Sorry about the long whinge. I really needed to get that off my chest.

taking a deep breath and calming down

2009-03-21T16:44:00.003+13:45

Why I am now feeling happier than I was on Wednesday:

- I am actually researching a fascinating topic. Took me a while to remember that, but now that my terror has cattle-prodded me into working hard, I am starting to get really excited.

- I am not stupid; I simply am TEACHABLE. A whole lot of empty space in my head is not a bad thing. It means I have a mind that is open to different possibilities and not decided already on one conclusion.

- I actually already know a lot about my topic, given that I looked at a very similar area last year, and so I am in a much better place than most other Masters students at the same stage as me.

- Being a florist is not as romantic as I had thought. Thanks to all the sensible people who commented on my last post, pointing out all the cons of getting up early, dealing with bridezillas, slicing one's hand open with thorns, etc.

- Some people want to give me money to study. They can't be completely mistaken in my abilities, because people don't give away money generously without being very careful about it.

- Although this stage of my study (reading what everyone else has written about this subject) is not always very fun or rewarding, the stage that comes next, and takes up most of my time (looking at primary documents) will be FANTASTIC. I hope.

SOS

2009-03-18T17:00:00.005+13:45

Please, blogosphere, send me some love. I am feeling really, really dumb, and I have an impending sense of doom about the year ahead of me.

I have just sent my sister this text message: "Masters is HORRIBLE. I don't know how you got through a PhD. I just feel so stupid!"

She replied: "You've made it. That's the whole objective."

Why, why, didn't I become a florist? It was a perfectly reasonable fantasy. No, I had to do the "sensible" thing and come to university.

Meanwhile, I am drowning my sorrows in:

wine and Whittaker's hazelnut chocolate;

while cooking - rhubarb pie, my favourite.

It wasn't supposed to get burnt but it still tasted goooood, and made me feel slightly better.

accidental fortuitous irregularity

2009-03-08T22:52:00.005+13:45

The word "random" being so 2001, this is a list of 25 Haphazard Things About Me or Somehow Related to Me or What I Am Thinking About Now. (Okay, so "haphazard" is not a perfect synonym, but that's all the thesaurus had. Neither is it a catchy little title. No excuses in that case.)

1. I used to play in a recorder quintet in Perth, Australia. The people whose house we practised in had a budgie who could whistle Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture, and the budgie frequently joined in while we played.

2. I should be studying harder. But I'm not. It's going to take me a while to master this Masters thing (actually no pun intended) of self-motivated study.

3. I am listening to the new U2 album right now! No Line on the Horizon. I love it so far! My feeling is: still U2 produced by Brian Eno, but a developing sound. Contemporary but not too overtly fashionable. Very listenable. Rough-edged, which is how I like it. Creative vocals.

4. There is a guy at my church who is very goodlooking, in a very unconventional way. Although he's a very nice guy, we don't have much in common and I'm not interested, so there's no need for me to start behaving oddly, but it is nice to have some man candy around. Is that sexist?

5. I am hoping that this year I will be able to visit the UK for research purposes - there are two archives I would love to visit, one in London and one in Brighton. I won't be able to afford to do much stuff or stay for long but I'm hoping I'll have at least one or two weekends free to see something, and I've wanted to go to Bath for a long time, so that goes straight to the top of the list...

6. ... and, as it turns out, very fortuitously, at precisely the time I am planning to be in the UK (September), the Jane Austen Centre of Bath is holding a JANE AUSTEN FESTIVAL!!! And, one of my best friends, who is a big Austen fan too, will be in the UK at the same time, exploring a little before she starts working in France! I think that constitutes clear guidance - I must go to the UK in September!

7. My name in Cyrillic alphabet is: ЭЛЕЙ

8. I have a god-daughter.

9. I keep having dreams about this one guy that I used to work with, and I can't figure out why. I actually told him about the first one of them, in which I got married to him and then he left me the next day for a man. He found it hilariously funny. But I thought it might be a bit much to try to explain why I've had at least five dreams featuring him since then.

10. I am currently reading The Screwtape Letters, by C. S. Lewis. Good book.

11. I have eleven nieces and nephews, all of whom I love very much but have taught me a lot. Namely, that parenthood is not something to be entered into lightly.

12. I tire easily of making lists and 25 is just too big a number. Let's make it twelve.

shameless self-promotion

2009-03-05T10:20:00.003+13:45

Halfway Down the Stairs, the online writing magazine of which Stacy and I are editors, is out again!

This issue is themed "Twists of Fate" and is our biggest issue yet. Although I obviously liked all the fiction in there, as I am one of the people who decides whether we accept it or not, there is some work by our guest authors that I really think is brilliant writing, and we are privileged to be able to publish it. I hope you enjoy it!

on the radio

2009-02-27T15:23:00.003+13:45

Five songs that I am loving at the moment.

"Get on your boots", U2.
Obviously I was always going to be excited by a new U2 single but I am not at all disappointed by this one, if that means anything! They're not losing It as they get older, in my opinion, yet neither are they doing quite the same old thing. It'll be exciting to see what the album's like.

"The Fear", Lily Allen.
It's great to see that Lily Allen is bringing us more of her quirky, irreverent and honest music but also developing her sound. I love the first single off her album - it's either incredibly ironic or incredibly self-aware, or maybe a little of both. I love that she can say things that are so much more interesting than the average pop song but she says them in such a fun way.
"Single Ladies", Beyoncé

I'm not normally a fan of Beyoncé, nor a fan of dancey-type music (unless we're talking ABBA) - but for some strange reason I love this song. It took me a while. At first whenever I heard it I wondered why on earth Beyoncé would record such a strange song, but now I really enjoy it every time I hear it. The video is also very cool.

"American Boy", Estelle feat. Kanye West
I think this has been around for a while now but I'm still listening to it avidly. This is such a cool British sort of hip hop - funky, carefree, restrained... One of the few songs featuring Kanye West in which I can see what all the fuss is about.

"My Delirium", Ladyhawke

This is a music style called "indie-disco" by iTunes (I personally wouldn't have a clue what it is!) that I find really interesting and fun, and I love this, Ladyhawke's second single. Good driving music, I would guess. Also a great, creative video. I would love to get the whole album, actually.

another meme

2009-02-23T20:12:00.003+13:45

Remember the "YOUR NAME needs" meme? Here it is again, extended! [Just to set the record straight - I did not create this meme but borrowed it from elsewhere.] I typed the following beginnings into Google and found some interesting endings...

1. Allie looks like:
- a flat faced chicken.
- she's gone ten rounds with an unfriendly and lost.
- a cute little girl but also projects a calmness.

2. Allie likes:
- the new bookshelf. (very true)
- High School Musical. (untrue)
- balloons. (well, who doesn't?)

3. Allie says:
- keep our ears clean.
- everybody wants a thrill.
- she's not worried about the criticism.

4. Allie wants:
- to be in the Olympics. What child doesn't?
- you to be happy with every item you purchase. (Money back guarantee)
- to stay healthy, instead of eating peanuts. (Because peanuts are The ultimate temptation?)

5. Allie does:
- South America!
- the weather in a Spanish school project.
- nothing but play forum games all day long.

6. Allie hates:
- the vacuum cleaner. (So true)
- some of you. (Lies! All lies!)
- posers.

7. Allie can:
- run. (Like the wind. A really slow wind.)
- cater to almost any need BUT HEALTH ISSUES. Please do not request a spell for anything medical.
- convince you it's 8am when it's only 2:30am. (A useful skill, that.)

8. Allie goes:
- blonde.
- to the zoo.
-on strike, feeling overworked and underappreciated.

9. Allie is:
- tiniest little worker for God.
- a white flag.
- fat, illiterate.

10. Allie loves:
- dirt.
- the Isle of Skye.
- you, baby doll.

Pilgrims' Progress

2009-02-22T17:35:00.003+13:45

I think I've blogged about this blog before, but once again I just have to share it with you all - Pilgrims' Progress is a blog written by a Kiwi family who are travelling the world on the cheap for a year. This may sound even more amazing when I mention the fact that they have eight children. Look up their blog for explanation on how it is being done, and how it is afforded, but their most recent post makes me want to drop everything and go to China. Check it out.

I am in the throes of a headcold at the moment. It makes me very depressed. Couple this with the fact that the university is mucking up my enrolment, yet again, and I may be living on my overdraft for the next month, and I am STRESSED. Pilgrims' Progress makes for a moment of glorious escapism - but it's all true.

(By the way, to see the text on this blog I have to scroll down quite a lot. It may be the same for you - don't give up! The blog IS there!)

a question for the habitually single girls and for the girls who used to be habitually single

2009-02-19T00:23:00.003+13:45

Warning - this post is so sickly that I know I will regret it in the morning.

So! I'm not in a relationship now, I haven't been in a relationship for years, and the only relationship (singular) I have ever been in is just too embarrassing to think about.

It doesn't freak me out or anything, I'm not ashamed of it, etc., etc.

However, I've always assumed things would change eventually. Maybe one day, in the near or distant future (I'm not too worried which), I'll meet someone whom I will fall madly in love with.

But I'm starting to worry that I have a heart of stone, or that I'm more in love with the idea of being in love than with any actual human being - ALL of whom annoy me or repulse me too much before I've even considered the idea of dating them, unless I work myself up into a frenzy of "maybe-I-have-a-crush-on-them" whenever they're not around. (Of course, as soon as I get in a 5 metre radius of them it becomes very clear that I'm not interested.)

Please tell me - does anyone else feel this way? Or those of you who have fallen in love, did you ever feel this way?

come together

2009-02-17T11:51:00.003+13:45

I have done this kind of meme once before, but decided it was high time for another musical meme after seeing on facebook the meme of a fellow blogger who shall remain nameless but who knows who she is (gosh this is getting complex). And this one does have different questions!

What does your music library say about you?

Put Your iTunes, winamp, mp3 player or whatever on SHUFFLE.
For each question, press the next button to get your answer (no cheating).
You must write down song/artist even if it doesn't make sense.
Include any comments in parenthesis.

1. What do your friends say about you? "Rockstar", Nickelback. (A more unlikely answer I have yet to see.)

2. How would your coworkers describe you? "Here I Am to Worship", Tim Hughes

3.How would you describe yourself? "Afloat", Evermore

4. What do you like in a romantic partner? "You're the One that I Want", John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John

5. How do you feel today? "Hurt", Johnny Cash

6. What is your life’s purpose? "Break it to Pieces", Freestyle

7.What is your motto? "I Will Follow Him", from Sister Act

8. What do you think about the most? "Yesterday", the Beatles (I love this, given that I am a history student)

9. What are you going to do on your next vacation? "Rumanian Folk Dances", Bartok (I wish)

10.What do you think of your first love/date? "For Unto Us a Child is Born", from Messiah (huh?)

11. What is your life story? "Still Alive", [my big brother] (Haha - that's a real testimony, isn't it?)

12. What did you do yesterday? "Love Me Like the World is Ending", Ben Lee

13. What do you think of when you see the person you like/love? "Sexual Revolution", Macy Gray (okaaaay)

14. What describes your wedding? "In memoriam", from Les Choristes (uh-oh...)

15. What will they play at your funeral? "Everloving", Moby

16. What is your obsession? "La Vie en Rose", Louis Armstrong

17. What is your biggest fear? "Weep You No More Sad Fountains", from Sense and Sensibility

18. What is your biggest secret? "Persuasion", Tim Finn

19. What is your biggest turn-on? "Ain't No Sunshine", Bill Withers (well, this was always going to be a weird answer, wasn't it?)

20. How do you describe your friends? "The Carnival of the Animals," Saint-Saens (I love this one)

21. What would you do with a million dollars? "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For", U2

22. What is your opinion of sex? "La désillusion", from Les Choristes (another uh-oh)

23. What is your biggest regret? "Six Months in a Leaky Boat", Split Enz

24. What would you rather be doing right now? "I Love Paris", Ella Fitzgerald

25. What will you post this list as? "Come Together", Third Day

I tag anyone who wants to be tagged!

I find this funny

2009-02-17T00:08:00.002+13:45

I was just looking at my statcounter page for this blog, because I am obsessed with myself (go on - admit it, you are too). And I discovered that I am quoted under "Latest commentary" on the Visit Hanmer Springs website, from back in July 2008 when I visited Hanmer and did a rather positive blog post about it.

I have never been called a "commentator" before. That makes me sound like a serious blogger or someone who writes one of those blogs that somehow people know about, and that is just too funny.

all grown up

2009-02-11T21:09:00.002+13:45

I have moved out of home - GASP!

I am now a resident of Number X, XXX Street, along with four other girls - should be an interesting year! Surprisingly, I am having a lot of fun. I thought I would take a lot of adjusting, having to share the one shower with four other people, being around so many people all the time, after it just being me and Dad for several years now. But it's fine. I suspect all that will come later - what joy is in store for me!

I'm already a bit on edge, though. I used to live in the sleepiest neighbourhood in which I am sure there is not even a whiff of crime; suddenly I am pitchforked into the big bad suburb of Ilam, where professional robbers target student flats because students are usually at uni during the daytime and because there are usually several things like multiple laptops for the taking. Yesterday, one of the girls was home alone and someone knocked on the door. As she came to answer it, she saw a man through the window, but when she opened it, he was heading out onto the street. Suspicious? Creepy? I THINK SO! So today I was paranoid about not leaving the house unless someone else was here to make sure we don't have any scary robbers breaking in, and very, very soon I am going to get myself contents insurance.

On a more positive note, it is a whole lot of fun arranging my new room. I have a really big room that used to be a lounge, and apart from its one drawback (no storage eg wardrobe), it's GREAT having room to move, for the first time in five years! I was thinking maybe a paddling pool in the big space of carpet in the middle of the room? or fill the middle of the room ankle-deep with plastic balls, like at those playgrounds? Any more space-using suggestions, anyone? After all, I wouldn't want to be wasteful.

the final installment

2009-02-08T22:44:00.003+13:45

We arrived for our final night of the road trip in Wanaka, a pleasant town on the side of a lake bearing the same name, which entertains skiiers in winter but right now is into all manner of water sports. Coming to Wanaka, it felt like we were definitely returning to civilisation - suddenly, we had electricity 24/7 if we wanted it, instead of the lights turning off at 10.30 when the generator stopped; we had boiling water on command, instead of having to boil it over a gas stove in a saucepan. I didn't really expect to enjoy Wanaka though. It felt like simply a stop on the road back to Christchurch, after a really great holiday. And after the spectacular scenery of Fiordland, the niceness of Wanaka seemed a bit tame.

However, after wandering round the shops for a while, I had to admit that civilisation was actually quite pleasant. And then after walking around the lake for an hour, yes, well, Wanaka is very pretty and actually quite scenic. Then, going for a bike ride on the cusp of the night - I like this place.

It's great biking around a lake at sunset. I should do it more often.

The next morning, it was packing up again and heading home. Should be depressing, but we were taking a pretty spectacular route. You may remember, in early November, that I took a trip with another friend into the Mackenzie Country - this time we were driving through there on our way back. But also, before we reached that area, we were driving through the Lindis Pass, which is incredibly fun to drive (easy but windy and doooowwwwn), and also amazing to look at. It looks nothing like the highway on either side but is a big clump of hills that look like someone has spread out a huge brown blanket over a few sleeping giants.

Then, onwards to Christchurch and home. I was not quite as depressed to be home as I thought I would be, as I was exhausted and I wanted to start eating food again that wasn't out of a can, but that was one heck of a holiday. Six tanks of petrol = $300, motor camp accomodation = $70, but Central Otago, Fiordland and Wanaka in five nights? Priceless.

of rivers, mountains and fiords

2009-02-06T10:44:00.004+13:45

We find our heroines, Allie and Katie, leaving Central Otago and all its dryness for the wetness of the fiords of the south - well, so we heard, anyhow, for we managed to time our visit for two glorious days of fine weather, a rare phenomenon in Fiordland, even in summer. As we left Te Anau, the last town on our way, we took the road towards Milford Sound - a place which Rudyard Kipling once called the eighth wonder of the world. The road opened up before us and we couldn't help gasping.

We were on our way to Gunn's Camp, which is about forty minutes before Milford proper, down a long dirt road. The camp was possibly the coolest one I have ever stayed at. It looks like the huts have sat there unchanged for the past sixty, seventy years. In each hut is an old coal stove; the camp kitchen uses ancient old gas stoves; there are no microwaves, kettles or fridges; it's a primitive old camp that has a lot of character and also a lot of friendliness.

Once settled in, we continued down the road toward Milford Sound, through the Homer Tunnel which goes down through the mountain, and then pops out again high up, a strange feeling. Down, down on twisted roads, finally ending up at the sea, and at Milford Sound. Mitre Peak (in the picture below) is a famous image in New Zealand, but somehow seeing the photographs doesn't quite prepare you for the impressiveness of the real thing.

We booked tickets for a boat trip the next morning, and then made our way back to Gunn's, slowly, stopping at every little walk you can take through the rainforest to waterfalls, rivers and chasms. This is a place exploding with life.

The next morning, bright and early, we drove back to Milford to take our morning cruise at 8.55am. The boat we were on was the smallest of the options, and goes right out to the Tasman Sea to look back up the fiord. Free tea and coffee, mmMM. Waterfalls, seals sunning themselves on rocks, huge sheer mountains everywhere around you which somehow don't translate themselves onto film at all well - here is one of my best attempts:

The captain of the boat gives a bit of a commentary as we go; luckily, he has an incredibly dry wit and so it's all very interesting. He takes pleasure in taking the boat as close to the biggest waterfall as he possibly can, spraying, even soaking most of us who were brave enough to stay on the outside decks. Not recommended for winter, but a surprising thrill on this more sunny day. Finally we arrive back on shore. What to do now?

Well, climb a mountain, of course! The Routeburn Track, widely recognised as one of the Great Walks of New Zealand starts only ten minutes down the road from Gunn's. Although if you want to do the whole thing it takes several days and a bit of money for lodging in the huts, the first couple of hours take you up to Key Summit and to an amazing view. While the track was lovely, walking up throught the forest, once you get past the treeline it's just - WOW. And then once you reach the top, well, I could have sat there forever, gazing at everything around me. Definitely the highlight of the trip. I wouldn't say it was an easy walk for me, but all that just fell away once you reached the top, to views like these:

Eventually it was time to come down, and go back to Gunn's. The next morning, sadly, we had to go, but on the way out we were treated to Fiordland in cloud, a mysterious experience that we had so far missed.
Onwards to Wanaka...

escape!

2009-02-05T13:52:00.007+13:45

Went away, took far too many photos, can't bear to share too few - so, over the next few days, I will be sharing parts of my latest wonderful adventure away! Hopefully you can bear with it.

Basically, I have just had a wonderful holiday between the end of my summer job and the start of my Masters. Very much needed, very much appreciated, and it almost didn't happen due to money issues. Thank goodness and my father, it did happen! My friend Katie and I managed to cram a heck of a lot into five nights, and here are the first two: Central Otago. In the middle of the south of the South Island, this is the area that is generally the hottest place in New Zealand in summer and the coldest in winter. Luckily for us, it was cloudy most of the time we were there and didn't get the hellish heat they had a few days before, up to 40 degrees celsius (or about 105 fahrenheit).

My sister happens to own a section in Oturehua, a tiny little place in Central Otago with a pub, a store, and not much else, and on this section sits their caravan. We stayed in the caravan for two nights, and explored this part of NZ.

One of the cool things about Central is the history. This is where gold was discovered in the nineteenth century, and miners flocked from around the world to make their fortunes. So wherever you go, you can easily come across ruined huts like the one above, standing on the side of the road and looking very picturesque. We wanted to go to a place called Bendigo which is full of them, but didn't have the time, unfortunately.

This is sweet little St Bathans, which overlooks a striking Blue Lake with white cliffs that were created by miners sluicing it. The little town itself is full of old character buildings, and if it is a little gimmicky/touristy I can't say I minded.

On our second day in Central, we biked part of the Otago Central Rail Trail, from Auripo Station to Omakau. That was about 17km of a 150km bike track which is becoming more and more of a must-do for tourists and also Kiwis, and definitely my highlight of the area. My favourite part was around the Poolburn Viaduct, where you cross a scary, clattering, tall bridge, and then bike through a few old rail tunnels. As you can see in the photo above, it's striking, rocky scenery, and a lot of fun.

After getting to Omakau, we had lunch, and then Katie, who is basically an ironman, sped all the way back to Auripo, while I explored the pretty little cemetery nearby.

Later that afternoon, we drove up to see the Poolburn Reservoir. For some reason I've wanted to see this for a while - it's a Lord of the Rings location, if you remember the village of Rohan, which the Orcs attack in The Two Towers, and a mother sends her two kids away on a horse to escape to Edoras. The drive up there (below) along a gravel road was amazing - rock formations rising up everywhere; angry, atmospheric looking clouds.

Poolburn Reservoir was rather nice itself, although it was a murky day, with its cute little cottages nestled among the rocks (below), but we had a rather strange experience there. I have never felt more like a city girl. Or maybe like a cast member of Lord of the Flies.

We wandered out of the car and away down to the waterfront, where we vaguely noticed a dad playing with his two kids. However, when we got closer, we realised they were having a mudfight, and the dad actually started egging his kids on to throw mud at us! "They look too clean; go on, go throw mud at them." The kids ran over, little monsters, and with looks of evil glee on their faces shouted in sing-song voices "Let's get them!!" while their dad split his sides laughing in the background.

Of course, we ended up speechless, with great lumps of mud stuck to us. I think the dad told us to lighten up but I have to say I think we took it pretty lightly, just walking away instead of telling him what we thought of his parenting skills. We went for a desultory walk around some of the reservoir, muttering about inbred hicks, a term I never thought I would use on someone but which had become utterly appropriate. What a bizarre experience.

Luckily the beautiful drive back to the main road calmed us down, and we went into Ranfurly, a small town, paid to have showers at the local motor camp, and got ourselves dinner at the tavern. By now it has become one of those weird experiences it's sort of fun to talk about but I would love to see how those kids turn out one day.

The next morning it was time to leave Central Otago, and it was on a happy note that we left - Central is a legendary place for stone fruit and cherries, and on the way out, we stopped in Cromwell, and picked up bags of ripe, juicy apricots and nectarines, which truly must be the food of the gods. I only wish we had bought more, we must have consumed them in about three hours flat.

Onwards to Fiordland and Milford Sound - but that's for tomorrow's blog post.

deathmatch

2009-01-28T13:44:00.003+13:45

The Adversaries

The Killers. Indie rock. Hot Fuss, Sam's Town and Day and Age.

Duffy. Soul/pop/I don't even know what to label it. Rockferry.

The Fight

Allie's attendance at their concerts.

The Killers - Westpac Arena, Christchurch, March 31. $100.

Duffy - Christchurch Town Hall, April 2. $119.90.

The Problem

I'm a poor student and can only afford to go to one of the concerts, which are oh-so-annoyingly placed two days apart. I'm very tempted to go to both, because it's not like fantastic acts like this come to Christchurch all that often, but I don't think I can justify spending over $200 in one week on concerts.

For Duffy:

I actually like Duffy better than the Killers - everything she sings I like, whereas some of the Killers' songs do not interest me whatsoever.

For the Killers:

Although I like Duffy overall better than the Killers, there are some Killers songs which kick arse. And I suspect their concert would be more of a spectacle, more fun in the mosh pit.

Who is going down??? You decide.

from the arbiter of trends, to you

2009-01-24T01:40:00.004+13:45

I think I could have a career writing for women's magazines...

What's Hot
1. McDonalds strawberry milkshakes. I don't know and I don't care how bad they are for me - they're cheap and goood, and it's hot outside, and I like studying in busy, noisy places that don't mind me buying one drink and sitting there for an hour.
2. The possibility of researching abroad in cool archives like this.
3. The new U2 single!!!! Yippee! For a while there I had thought I was losing my U2 obsession and suddenly I love 'em again.
4. Moving into a flat for the first time. Acquiring a life of my own.
5. Going camping!! Next week, in two of the coolest (or should I say hottest?) spots in New Zealand, with one of my best friends. Cheap holidays are great!
6. The Buskers' Festival. The centre of Christchurch is more bustling and fun at the moment than at any other time of the year.

And What's Not
1. Weather that is unbearably hot (and yes, I have noticed that I'm designating "hot" weather as "not hot")
2. The reality setting in that people don't want to give me free money to go research abroad unless I can justify it. And by justifying it, that means doing something politically correct or financially rewarding.
3. Moving out of home for the first time. Leaving my parent all on his own and feeling guilty.
4. Writing a research proposal. Not fun.
5. White-tail spiders finding ways to enter the house.

a selection of good reads

2009-01-18T22:23:00.007+13:45

Just because I felt like it, I am here listing a few of my favourite books. These aren't necessarily in my group of absolute favourites (although a couple are) and you will have heard of or read most of them already, probably. But here is what I like about a random selection of good books.

The Tricksters, by Margaret Mahy
Now, this is a claim made by someone who isn't actually fully informed yet - but I think this novel is the best novel ever written by a New Zealander (let's qualify that by saying, of what I've read). I fully accept that not everyone would agree with me, but there it is. It is also, probably, among my top ten or twenty books ever.
Set at the beach during a New Zealand summer, starring a family that has been visited by three mysterious men, this is a book ostensibly written for teenagers which could rival most adults' novels in terms of skill. Mahy's writing style is just beautiful, and her plot imaginative, magical, intriguing; her characters so full-bodied it feels like you could reach out and touch them.

A Clockwork Orange, by Anthony Burgess
A lot of people love this book, I know. And I no less. It's so clever. I love Burgess' creativity with his language, Nadsat, and for some horrible reason I love his main character (hero? anti-hero?) who shouldn't be loved, and I love the questions this raises.

Almost Heaven: Travels through the Backwoods of America, by Martin Fletcher
This is a book by a British journalist who travelled around the USA stopping in any tiny, insignificant place he came across and coming across the most interesting people and things. For someone from a country half a world away, it makes for bizarre and fascinating reading, but it's not a mean "let's-mock-America-in-all-its-weirdness" kind of book. It's simply fascinating.

Vanity Fair, by William Makepeace Thackeray

This is probably my favourite classic novel, after Jane Austen's, and after Jane Eyre, or maybe equal with Jane Eyre. It's long - but it kept me engrossed easily. Thackeray's characters are interesting and flawed, he is an incredibly funny narrator, and there isn't an easy ending. His whole point is interesting:

This, dear friends and companions, is my amiable object – to walk with you through the Fair, to examine the shops and shows there; and that we should all come home after the flare, and the noise, and the gaiety, and be perfectly miserable in private.

The Resistible Rise of Arturo Ui, by Bertolt Brecht

One of the few plays I would actually read for enjoyment, and a play that I really, really want to see. In fact, have any of you seen it? What was it like?

One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich, by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn.

When I think "Russian literature", I think "huge". This, happily, is small. It's also a book that is a simply written, under-dramatic account of one day in the gulag for one insignificant man. Everything in it feels grey. There was nothing in it that stood out or begged attention, but for some reason I couldn't put it down. In fact, I finished it two minutes before we ate dinner, and after reading it, boiled potatoes tasted like the food of angels. It's that impacting a book.

The Screwtape Letters, by C. S. Lewis

An absolutely amazing book that must have taken quite some dedication to write. It's also one of those books that must be a book. No movie will ever manage to do justice to it; even an audiobook would fall short. Perhaps it's a mark of how true it rings that the demon Screwtape and the junior demon Wormwood can only be brought to life in our own minds, where we have heard them already.

Finally, The First World War, by Gerard J. De Groot

This was a set text for an undergraduate history paper I took in 2006, and one of the few history books I have ever read that was a pleasure to read. It seems wrong to say that, given that I am a history student, but I guess I could say this was an influential book for me, teaching me that history can be as alive as any novel if its scribe is any good.

I quote: As the Archduke passed by in his car, the first young assassin failed to get his revolver out of his pocket in time to get a clear shot. The second was spooked by the close proximity of a policeman, who would obviously have disapproved. The third lost his nerve when he saw the Duchess Sophie, sitting next to the Archduke. The fourth decided he was not cut out for the life of a terrorist and went home. The fifth threw his bomb, but missed. The sixth conspirator, Gavrilo Princip, heard the bomb, decided that the plot had succeeded, and sat down feeling smugly satisfied. He then saw the Archduke's car speed by and rued the passing of his heroic moment.
De Groot, as well as being a good writer, is very scholarly - it's not simply a popular picture book - and his conclusions are very interesting.

tripods are fantastic

2009-01-18T00:43:00.003+13:45

I love having a tripod! I can finally take cool night-time shots. This was a fifteen-second exposure featuring a full moon and the Port Hills, from a road near my house. It was rather windy, hence the blurry grass.

2008

2009-01-07T19:51:00.003+13:45

We have just had a 35 degree day. My goodness it's hot. (Translation for you fahrenheiters: that's 95 degrees.)

Right. Here is my attempt at copying Sara, who copied Stacy, who copied Beck.

2008, shown by the first sentence of the first blog post of every month. Like Sara, who changed that to the last sentence, I am going to bend the rules, and take my pick of either the first OR the last, depending on which I like the best.

2008 on Allie's blog:
There's this pizza chain in New Zealand called Hell. Of course, in this dreamworld there's no such thing as money! Everything I've written above is something I will try to keep in focus for the rest of my life. I'm a big fan of Georgette Heyer, especially her Regency novels. It really is difficult to pick out of the long list of books she wrote. That's not so bad when you're cuddled up in bed with several layers of bedding and an electric blanket! See the Northern Lights. Because I do this periodically. Why don't people learn from history? So, there has to be something you will enjoy! I'll be impressed if you've read all this. I would just find it too depressing.

:)

why oh why?

2009-01-07T02:11:00.004+13:45

I have just decided to do a Masters degree. Eek!

It was always on the cards, but I didn't really make up my mind until this last week, and I was pretty blasé about it, considering it the safe option that logically followed my Honours year and wouldn't require much more pressure.

Have suddenly realised I am incredibly unintelligent when it comes to predicting my future. I am freaking out. When it comes down to it and I actually have to put some work into finding a topic, I realise that suddenly I am studying at an academic level at which originality is crucial, and all the topics I had in mind have been done already. I realise that I am plunging into a world where I will not be having weekly meetings with my supervisor, like last year, nor his constant guidance; where the entire Department of History staff are going to hear my proposal and grill me on it, in a few short weeks from now; where famous historians are going to read the end product (if, indeed, I finish) and tell me what's wrong with it. *long, drawn-out scream*

Why am I doing this to myself? What possesses people to take on postgraduate study? I have a horrible fear that suddenly everyone will realise that everything I've done so far that has turned out to be halfway good has been a complete fluke.

the year that was

2008-12-31T18:32:00.005+13:45

Well, it's December 31 and once again I have not been awarded the New Zealand Order of Merit in the New Year Honours. I have not yet become rich or famous or won a Nobel Prize. The only thing I have done this year that seems significant in any way is contained in a spiral bound booklet of 57 pages. And yet the year doesn't seem like a dead loss.

I have:
1. Recovered from a broken heel. Lesson learnt: firstly, what it is like, in some small way, to be deprived of your mobility, to be stuck inside while everyone else is out in the sun enjoying summer. Secondly, not to jump off floating jetties onto a beach at midnight ever again.

2. Seen two of my good friends get married, and been bridesmaid for one of them. No lesson learnt from this, apparently, as I am still happily single, but it was a pleasure to be around and to be an important part of someone's life as they make such a significant decision.

3. Enjoyed hanging out with my family. Almost all of us were together, back in August - a rare occurrence.

4. Welcomed two new babies to the family - Daniel, who is pictured above, and Miriam, who is my niece and also my god-daughter, and who is not pictured because I am aware of how much her father dislikes his children being displayed for all to see on the internet.

Also gone through, with the family, the experience of dealing with serious illness of a little baby. Daniel underwent heart surgery a few months ago, and came through it well. Hundreds of prayers were sent up at that time, as you may imagine, and then many thanks.

5. Learned to love winter.

6. Made some probably lifelong friends at uni who made 2008 a pleasure.

7. Appreciated this beautiful country a little bit more.

8. Run a spiritual course of up-and-downs which will probably be described in more detail on my other blog in the next few days and which, I think, has probably made me stronger.

9. Had what I think can be described as the best year of my life, when a single year can be picked out. History Honours 2008 was probably the hardest thing I have ever done and also the most rewarding. I did things that I never thought I would be able to do. I am much more confident and also much more aware of my weaknesses.

the holiday

2008-12-28T16:34:00.009+13:45

How was your Christmas?

Mine involved:

1) Driving down to Dunedin, the city where two of my sisters live. Two more of us travelled there, as well as my father. On the way down my brother-in-law and I stopped at Moeraki Boulders and I surreptitiously took this photo which I think is quite sweet:

2) Playing with two very cute additions to the family. My five-month-old nephew below:

And Oscar, the new puppy who lives in the house I was staying in. He's a Jack Frost, a cross between a bichon frise and a Jack Russell. He hasn't quite learnt not to nip people yet, but he's so cute that it's easy to forgive him.

3) Playing with new toys. The niece and nephew pictured below, and their brother, received this trampoline for Christmas, which, as you can see, they are enjoying a lot. In fact, I enjoyed it too.

4) Dressing up warm for the Dunedin "summer". Once again, I completely overestimated Dunedin's weather, and brought with me lots of t-shirts and shorts, and only one pair of jeans and a jersey. But actually it's almost pleasant having to snuggle up warm for Christmas - this coming from someone who has always had summer Christmases.

what are you looking for?

2008-12-19T15:42:00.001+13:45

This was in the local newspaper today. It made me happy.

My gift of Christmas cheer to you!

shoes?

2008-12-17T16:41:00.004+13:45

So, who hasn't heard about George W. Bush and the shoe-throwing incident in Baghdad? Here's an article if not. Does anyone else feel bad for feeling a bit amused? At the same time, I have to say, I found Muntader al-Zaidi's words quite poignant. "This is from the widows, the orphans and those who were killed in Iraq!"

I don't think those deaths were entirely Bush's fault... but in some strange way it was almost refreshing to see someone responding to them with anger in a way that didn't involve blowing up more people. It was a gesture that was bound to make headlines, and his point couldn't be dismissed as just another crazy evil terrorist taking out his anger on innocent civilians. Sure, it was an insult, but who ever said that Bush was a person beyond insult?

Flicking through channels last night, I watched some of the final episode of The Celebrity Apprentice. (The Apprentice is bad enough, but seriously? The Celebrity Apprentice?! Anyway...) The charity chosen by Piers Morgan, the winner, was called "Intrepid Fallen Heroes Fund", whose resources go towards rehabilitating and caring for wounded soldiers returned from Iraq.

Let me be very careful about what I say here, or I will come in for a storm of angry comments, but here it is:

Of course that is a noble cause, and worth doing. It seems to be mentioned quite a lot in US TV as something worthy of support. But I wonder... who is doing this for the Iraqi wounded? Are their widows receiving compensation for inadvertently being in the firing line of US soliders? Are Iraqi limbs being replaced with state-of-the-art artificial limbs? I don't know, because I don't live in the USA, but I wonder how much prime-time reality TV is being devoted to supporting these victims.

Those who defend their country are entitled to their country's support and respect, yes. But what happens to the people caught between a tyrant, al-Qaeda and invading hordes? Whether or not it is for a good cause, the civilians killed, maimed and injured by US soldiers are still victims.

And it is good to see their cause highlighted again in such a striking way. Even as a shoe.

:)

2008-12-10T06:41:00.002+13:45

If you would like a laugh, go and have a look at the comments on my last post, "blast from the past", for an amusing attempt at subtlety.

blast from the past

2008-12-07T16:34:00.004+13:45

I've been going through my things, because I'm moving into a flat soon, and trying to bring myself to chuck out all the stuff I have kept over the years just in case I needed it some day (like my notes from Maths from fourth form - and no, I have never looked at them since fourth form).

One of the things I found were my things from my early primary school years - all those good behaviour certificates and the books of stories I wrote when I was five or six. I'm trying to bring myself to throw out most of the certificates, but no way am I throwing out the stories. Anyway, I thought I'd share some with you. I started school age 5, in 1991.

From Mrs Moore, in 1992.

Yup, I won a medal at our school 'Olympic Games'. I think it was for the sack race, or maybe for egg and spoon race (which was actually a potato and spoon race because eggs break).

From Mrs Strang, in 1994. I remember being so annoyed at this. I had learnt to swim properly over the summer, but then when I came back to school they put me in the junior group for swimming lessons. I had to swim with the five-year-olds. How humiliating.

I was a relative whiz at spelling in my school but no one ever told me. I learned a few years ago that in a parent-teacher interview when I was about eight, Mrs Lowry told my mum that I was doing better in spelling than all the other kids in the school, even the oldest kids (aged eleven). Mum asked her not to tell me that because she thought I would show off about it. Ah, she knew me so well.

This is one of my early forays into the world of art. My skill is evident even then. I present... a postmodern comment on life in the modern world.

And if you can translate this, I will be very grateful. It reads, as far as I can tell, "I like Mum. She is nice. She let me ...... when I saw a [horse? house?]."

Has anyone else got souvenirs from their childhood to share?

my Christmas wish list

2008-12-05T18:51:00.005+13:45

I have been tagged by Heidi - well, to be absolutely honest, I tagged myself really, and informed her of it. Using the wonderful polyvore, I have created for myself a Christmas wish list:

- a new cellphone. The keys on my current one are slowly dying. Sometimes I have to take the battery out just to turn it off. A nice new one would be great.
- books, of course. I do have one in particular in mind, called The Fellow-Travellers, by David Caute, but I couldn't find a picture of it for polyvore. It's an incredibly well-written history book that I used heaps this year for my research and I would like to have my own copy of it.
- a pretty dress. Granted, I wouldn't particularly like someone to buy me a dress as a surprise, but maybe this can be my Christmas present to myself.
- a mirror. I will include here the pot plant too. In January I am moving out of home and going flatting for the first time. I have most of the main stuff I need or will get them, but it would be nice to get some of the less necessary homey stuff that make life more pleasant.
- some cool jewellery. Always a pleasure.
- Agatha Christie's Poirot (with David Suchet) DVD boxsets. I have season one, and enjoyed it so much. This is a beautifully filmed TV series with great plots and good acting and I want to get more of the seasons.
- Similarly, Friends DVD boxsets. One of the greatest TV shows of all time (in my opinion) and I want it!
- a camera. I already have a camera but it's a big bulky thing that is annoying to take to certain things, and it would be very useful to have a tiny camera like these Fuji Finepix ones that I could just slip into my pocket.

Hooray! It's ages since I have made myself a Christmas present list. When I was young I would have written one and handed it out a few months before Christmas (and my birthday), charming, unmaterialistic young thing that I was.

TOO... HOT...

2008-12-04T22:50:00.001+13:45

If only I were a ski instructor, I could follow winter around the world...

Hell Pizza

2008-12-02T21:24:00.003+13:45

There's this pizza chain in New Zealand called Hell. The whole idea is to be provocative and shocking, thereby attracting their chosen demographic - cool people who like to push boundaries. Marketing campaigns have included dropping flyers in letterboxes with condoms attached, and billboards like the one below:

Obviously, it creates a fuss, and gives them a whole lotta free publicity.

Me - I'm not a fan. Not so much because of my religious beliefs or anything, although if it were only that Hell marketing campaigns would still probably bug me, but I find it so ironic that we are being urged to be rebellious and cool by giving them money.

I have had Hell pizza once at a friend's house, and it was yummy, but I refuse to spend money on them. Give me open capitalism any day. If I'm going to enrich some fat cat capitalist I'd like them to be quite open about it, thank you very much, and not act as if they're doing me a favour. But at the end of the day I don't really give a toss about Hell pizzas and I certainly wouldn't bother spending time arguing that they're wicked or something...

Until today. I saw this billboard in the newspaper:

Seriously?! They are seriously trying to sell pizza by using Adolf Hitler as a marketing ploy? Give me a break. Some things just should not be used for motives of profit.

Hell Pizza are not evil. They're simply idiots.

filling the nights

2008-11-27T05:14:00.007+13:45

I am currently working nights - 11pm to 4am - and so I sleep from about 5am to 1pm every day, even when I'm not working, so that I don't exhaust myself completely. (It is currently 4:57 am in New Zealand.) This leaves a lot of space to be filled between around 9pm and 5am, hence, a lot of DVDs are being watched, and I have been compiling some utterly useless lists regarding male actors:

The actors that are not bad looking, even smoking hot, but undateable in real life simply because they have played some pretty convincing villains in their time

Cillian Murphy. After his creepy performance in Batman Begins (and I am sure he makes a wonderful villain in many other movies), he's just too villainous.

Andy Garcia. It's that mob look he's got going. Sizzling eyes but in a villainous sort of way.

Mads Mikkelson, of Casino Royale. This picture says a thousand words.

Mark Dymond, who played Captain Frederick Tilney in a recent version of Northanger Abbey. This photo doesn't quite capture the twisted smirk this actor pulled off when playing his womanising character. Actually, it's so convincing that even though he's drop dead gorgeous and plausibly successful with women in the movie that he becomes completely undateable.

David Anders, who played villain Julian Sark in the TV series Alias. (Isn't Sark a fantastic name for a villain?)

The actors who are just too beautiful to be dateable

Daniel Brühl, of movies like Goodbye Lenin, Ladies in Lavender, or Joyeux Noël. Good actor - too pretty.

Jonathan Rhys Meyers, of Bend it Like Beckham and the recent The Tudors TV series. I mean, seriously. Look at that photo. Is that ridiculous or is that ridiculous?

Jesse Metcalfe, of Desperate Housewives. Cute, but a little too perfectly so. This goes for a whole genre of Jesse Metcalfe-type actors.

Henry Cavill, of The Count of Monte Cristo, I Capture the Castle, et cetera. What an amazing bone structure, eyes, wistful look, everything - unfortunately, he would be a great statue, but doesn't seem dateable.

The actors that are just about right (and sometimes I can't explain why

James McAvoy. In a weird British way. It seems like everyone is drooling over him these days and it just seems so irrational because he looks nothing like a sex symbol should. He's got Something.

Humphrey Bogart. There are other classic film actors like Cary Grant or Christopher Plummer who make much more sense to have a crush on (and don't get me wrong, I think they're rather attractive) but Bogart, like James McAvoy, just has that Something that leaps off the screen at you and makes absolutely no sense.
Alan Rickman. Now, I don't understand the girls who have a crush on Snape. But Alan Rickman in every other role oozes Something.

Toby Stephens. I've always thought he was pretty great but his recent role as Mr Rochester in Jane Eyre blew me away. I'm not saying it was a perfect adaptation of the book, but on the screen Toby Stephens captured something of the attractiveness yet physical unattractiveness of Rochester that is so tangible in the book. He's a bit prettier than a Rochester really should be, but after a while I started believing him, that he was ugly, even though at the very same time I was falling in lurve.
Finally, and obviously, and probably uncontroversially - Daniel Craig. PHWOAR. Phwoar, phwoar, phwoar. Words are obviously failing me. What is it about him? Can anyone enlighten me? Before I saw Casino Royale, I was surprised that he was chosen as Bond because his face is almost ugly. Then I saw the movie, and all confusion dissolved. It is the only movie I have seen in years in which my jaw was literally dropping at how yummy he is. I am going to see Quantum of Solace tomorrow night and I can't wait!

food

2008-11-25T05:12:00.003+13:45

I am a sucker for food. I have, in the past, decided many times to go on many different diets, which have not lasted longer than 24 hours - at the most. Most people have more stamina than that but food is just too good. At the moment I am trying to avoid eating too many carbs but it's not a diet as such, just a guideline that is broken without guilt.

I could never be an athlete of any skill because of my disastrous love for food, but it's not because I don't have the discipline. It's because I love food, and I hate the idea of food as fuel and nothing more. There is something very distasteful about loading up religiously with carbohydrates or protein or isotonics or whatever it is that sportspeople are supposed to eat. Eating the same thing every day, or at least the same type of thing, would be ghastly.

Food should be a celebration. Why should food be any less dignified a celebration of life than great art, literature, or music? We are not animals; we don't eat simply what our instincts tell us to eat; we can be creative and adventurous in our food choices. This doesn't mean we are eating irresponsibly, it means we are gleaning maximum enjoyment out of daily routine.

I remember, when my mother was dying, feeling incredibly sorry for her when her diet was restricted. Of course I hated what was happening but that was one of the major things that stood out for me. Mum's digestive functions were breaking down, and if she ate anything that wasn't processed and easily digestible, it could have hastened her death dramatically. So all she could eat were thin soup-like mixtures.

I'm sure it's horrible to die however it is that it happens, but it seemed so tragic to me to know that you were dying, and not be able to eat whatever you wanted. Like being on Death Row and being denied your final meal.

Anyway - for a long time my favourite foods have not been the most healthy choices, but for the first time in my life I find myself picking out healthy food over less healthy food. For a very long time, salad was only nice as a side dish, or if it had meat in it. Now I love it! Instead of going for the guilty pleasures of fish and chips when I get fast food, nothing can beat sushi or Subway now. Instead of eating junk food as snacks, I'm going for fruit - maybe because the season is bringing us nectarines, kiwifruit, peaches, strawberries, and soon apricots, feijoas, plums, and other berries. MMmm! Nothing can beat them. It feels good.

widgets

2008-11-20T18:38:00.004+13:45

I have been browsing through widgets available online (witness the right hand side of this webpage, and the very bottom) and I found a few which amused me or which were in some way tempting:

The ultimate web translator with flags
This attractive little translator which I did not decide to use claims to be the ultimate in translation, with 30+ languages, including, amazingly, English, American, Canadian, and Australian! Where's New Zealandese? I want New Zealandese!

The Love Clock
How nice: "the eternal theme of Him and Her comes to life with Love Clock". I'm not exactly sure what that means, but you get to have an elegant timepiece on your webpage which is embraced by a man and a woman with blue hair.

The Grammar Girl Quiz
This is actually kind of cool - a quick quiz on grammar you can offer blog readers. It's a promotional for a book that has just come out so I didn't really want to offer free advertising, but otherwise it's right up my alley.

Liquid Clock
"Every second of our life is precious. The sixty seconds form a very precious minute. The sixty minutes form even more preciuos hour. The 24 hours form the invaluable day. Let's try to remember that preciousness and let our days be unique and happy!"
Well, I'm not sure that by putting this clock on my blog I'm going to achieve that.

Decorate Your Christmas Tree
Since my father is The Grinch and will not get a Christmas tree this year, this could be just what I wanted! A Christmas tree, with a Christmas countdown, and decorations for you, my blog readers, to embellish it. Yeah - it's a little corny - but I gave in and now my blog is seasonally decorated. See the very bottom of the page to help decorate.

Reverse Clock
"We used to believe that no one could turn time back. Now it's possible with Reverse Clock. Its hands move backwards but show exact time!"
My my, how extremely useful!

High There!
This handy little widget means that whenever I blog about weed, I can be featured on some stupid website. I can see this coming in handy.

It's hit the fan
A game of skill - guess what you throw at a fan!!

Amazon Wishlist
"With this widget, not only will people buy you things, but you can get paid when they do!"
Whoopee! I bet you all can't wait to begin!

ABAJournal Daily News
"Up to the minute stories" from the official legal news source of the American Bar Association. Snore.

The 4 Candles
Love, peace, faith and hope. Beautifully displayed in eternal candle form on your blog, for all the internet to see.

Tricks of the Trade
Rules to live by, callgirl style. Classy.

Well, I think that's enough. There are many more to find, however, on http://www.widgetbox.com/!