I find this funny

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

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

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

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!

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

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

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

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

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

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?

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

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

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?

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


My gift of Christmas cheer to you!

shoes?

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.

:)

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

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

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...

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

Hell Pizza

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.