Crunchie Bar Anyone

A large part of my chocolate consumption of the last 2 weeks (see below) has been little crunchie bars that were used in the Country and Western event.

I had over 600 in my office to start with, and by the sheer determined grit of not opening any of the packets till they were genuinely needed the 600 managed to stay intact until the night.

However, after the event I found I had just over 150 left. I have just counted what is left in the bag. There are 23 remaining.

I can't do it. I don't think I EVER want to see a crunchie bar again.

The New Diet

Isn't it odd how you stumble across something wonderful when you least expect it. It's how I'm feeling about my new diet.

I'm calling it the "C" diet, and it consists of living off nothing but coffee, chocolate and cocktail food. I have reached goal weight, my clothes are starting to hang and I haven't even started on the final "C" item, champagne.

I'm refusing to accept that the 60 hour weeks, no weekends and high stress of the last few weeks has contributed at all, and I'm planning to continue the diet over my entire holiday break.

I expect to be of mere sylph like proportions at the end of the next four weeks.

Evil Eyes on the Loose

I had a large Country & Western themed event on last Friday and it was the perfect chance to again wear my new lovely beautiful gorgeous skirt which I will never grow weary of. When the disc of photo's arrived today I thought I'd finally be able to post an image of it's wonderfulness. Not so.

I've cleaned the image up as much as I can with my limited skill, including "reducing red eye". I love the laser effect that I'm left with.

I'm having a very Amanda Donahue/Lair of the White Worm moment here. So for your amusement please see below. Chortle, chortle, chortle....

Why does it do it?

This paragraph spacing issue is doing my head in, why does it do it? You have your post looking all pretty then upload it and and wham, bye bye paragraphs. And not consistently either!

No amount of editing will fix it, and with the post below I completely re wrote it and the good para spacing swapped from top to bottom.

Grrrr, humph, don't they know I'm anal about grammar and layout.

A Little Bit of History

I've recently reestablished contact with an old flatmate and dear friend from my yoof, he broke free from the poppy cutters to pursue his dream and is now a full time artist based in Washington.

Of course there are a lot of funny stories to tell from that time in his gorgeous house, which the Non Struggling Artist is encouraging me to tell, though of course with certain people's names disguised so as not to offend. Unfortunately these stories will have to wait a wee bit till the great god work slows down, though one question is whirling round my brain madly.

Why on earth were we crouched in the laundry one evening with the television precariously balanced on the wringer washing machine, smoking the naughty weed and watching The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy? Who was coming to visit that we didn't want the house to smell for? And why did we think the laundry would contain the smell?

However in delving into my past I've come across this gem which I thought I'd share with you, as of course this is all about ME! Here it is......

Isn't it divine!

Mrs Smith, the trousers were a size 10. I had another pair in blue, and likewise the top I had another in red so I had infinite variations of the same theme. I only ever wore canvas sand shoes at the time but was coerced to put on the Opera shoes for the photo session. Now there's a good story, going to the Opera, but another time.

The top came from Cook St market which is proof that when I went there regularly on a Saturday it was to shop and not just hide behind a pillar and make google eyes and sigh meaningfully in the direction of a certain Topp twin while they were performing their early busking routines.

I do wish I still had the sunglasses.

Christmas....bah....humbug

I have been very quiet of late due to work interfering with life. Today I start the 12 days, or should I say nights, oh dammit days AND nights of Christmas. I yearn for 16 December when it's all over, bar the counting of the loot, oops, sorry....revenue.

I have a Christmas tree in a box in front of me that needs constructing. I am practising positive avoidance with it. I had to construct one last week in a 20 minute window before an event. No one told me you have to fiddle and tweak every little bloody branch on the damn things, there are 694 on this one. When I finally got it to almost resemble a tree I was then told I had to put all the stuff on to it....Hello....you are staff, that's what I employ you for, normally you are fighting each other for the chance to decorate the tree.

My initial plan was to spray it with glue and throw things at it from a distance finishing with great lashings of glitter. For some reason that was frowned upon so I very unlovingly INDIVIDUALLY attached every bloody item on to the tree, they then told me that the stuff was meant to go on to 2 trees. I did wonder why I couldn't see any green anymore.

And if anyone asks me again where the fairy is for the top of the tree, you know the answer, he's in the basement running the switchboard.

I think I need a drink.

Child Abuse # 5

"Maaarrrmm" the child whined loudly, "do you know where David Beckham is staying?"

"Yes", I replied.

Fashion Crime # 2

I went a Civil Uniony party thingy last week, oddly it was a hetero couple from offshore doing the civilising thing and not pair of a dykes. I've wanted to blog about it, but as the party was held by close friends, and knowing they read this I've been stifling my urges as one is very mindful of excrement and backyards.

However, there was one fashion crime there that I can suppress no longer, and as the culprit is not part of the inner circle I am safe.

This young slim woman was wearing straight jeans with a crease ironed down the front.

I'm guessing she irons her sheets and towels as well. Maybe Mrs Smith could hire her to iron her house before Herr Relative arrives.

Cars, Clothes, and Dancing

I have sold the BMW! Phew, one drama out of my life. I did briefly consider changing my phone number so the purchaser couldn't contact me in the future but then figured as he got it disgustingly cheap he has to expect a few niggles, and yes all BMW's do that funny surging thing when in full lock, it's a feature.

I saw Brenda at the traffic lights yesterday and she said she didn't recognise me as I was in in my Nana car. NO BRENDA the correct response was you didn't recognise me because of my long hair and fabulous new sunglasses!!

I bought the skirt. Girl logic ruled. The car didn't sell at auction last week so I bought the skirt to make me feel better. Or, Girl logic #2, the children's father had put money on my credit card to cover their passports, so even with buying the skirt the credit card balance had been reduced. The manufacturers website still only has winter garments on it so I can't show you a picture of its fabulousness.

I have had my hair cut so the hair crisis has been temporarily averted for the next 6 weeks when no doubt it will take over my life again. So all you friends who were so non helpful during the current crisis, you have 6 weeks to form some helpful suggestions.

I have been sent a link to the discount shopping malls in Melbourne in preparation for the upcoming holiday. Gosh, I don't think a trail of crumbs will suffice for finding our way around them, will probably need a GPS and a little overnight tent in case of emergencies. Number 1 daughter insists on looking at EVERYTHING before making a purchase. I fear we may be gone for some time.

And to all you Wellington Lesbians it's time to dance. Saturday 1 December, VIP bar on the third level of iMerst. Some lovely girls have organised this. The doors open at 8pm so you Nana dyke's can have a night out AND be tucked up in bed by 11pm. All the real dancers of course will just be starting by then, and I assume those that want to carry on through the wee smalls the main dance space will be happening by then.

See you all there.

Open Letter to Radio New Zealand House Tenants

Dear Radio New Zealand House Tenants,

Summer has arrived so my office window is now open for the duration. Therefore when you congregate in the service lane for your breaks it means:

A: That even though I am 6 floors up I can smell your nasty cigarette smoke, and

B: I can hear what you are talking about.

So, little girl with her hair in a pony tail and the red dress with black top on, GIVE UP, it's clear from my vantage point that HE'S JUST NOT INTERESTED IN YOU!

Lots of love
Unpclesbian

....still laughing hysterically...

......and no not from the last post on "Rants of a Married Lesbian" as that would be too cruel, even though it does epitomise every bad stereotype of American lesbian culture, you know, what do you do when times get tough, shag someone else of course. I digress, I am laughing hysterically from the insurance company's quote to insure my new (old) car.

The new car is a Nana car, a little 1.5 litre of not much grunt. Yes it does only have 2 doors so technically can be called a coupe, however for some unknown reason the insurance company has decided that it is a high performance sports car desired by boy racers. This is a car that I don a fake nose, glasses and moustache disguise to drive in, just in case someone sees me in it. The 2 ltr mid-engine Targa top MR2 sports car that I used to drive I class as a high performance car.

The insurance company is trying to charge me almost twice the premium I paid on the MR2, and twice what I currently pay on my BMW which is a larger engined car and twice the value of the Nana car. I contacted the local Toyota dealer and they had a good laugh as well.

Discussions are continuing..................

To skirt....or not to skirt

I went for a little wander yesterday to get some fresh air and my stroll took me through the grand old Nana Kirk's. I had gone in there ostensibly to look for a pair of work shoes but reality was to fondle the shoes that go with my birthday handbag.

On my way to the shoe department I felt a beacon calling to me...look at me....look at me it said.....so of course I looked, and oh my I was transfixed. It was a gorgeous skirt in such an adorable retro print with little meshy frilly bits at the bottom, a symphony of loveliness.

I resisted.

This morning I had a little cruise through the Sartorialist and he is talking up the virtues of fun skirts.

I don't think I can resist any longer.

POST UPDATE: I succumbed to the call and went and tried it on. It was a tiny weeeny bit snug, and I said to the assistant that "I may I need a size 14 but you don't have one". She then looked closely at the skirt and said "this is a size 10, it was on the wrong hanger". I didn't hear what she said after that as my brain ceased all logical activity and could only hold one thought..... I fitted a size 10, I fitted a size 10, I fitted a size 10!

The size 12 fitted beautifully, lust, want, covet. Normally I would throw caution to the wind and whip out the credit card, but it's had so much action lately it's a bit tired and needs a rest. So all you indecisive watchers who can't make up your minds about buying my extremely cheap car, HURRY UP AND PUSH THE BUY NOW BUTTON!

Shaved Pussy

The alpha male cat has been booked in for his summer shave, a very emasculating experience for him, yet highly clever way of reinforcing who really is the boss.

We have timed it so when he gets home he can snuggle on the pink fluffy and watch Gok on "How to look good naked".

The child has recently acquired a digital camera ( thank you Nana and Granddad) so I will be able to post photo's of his Lordship's nakedness.

He has been referred to as a "one cat home invasion unit" by a neighbour, as he feels it's his feline given right to enter and graze in any home he wants to just because he's big, fluffy and cute. I fear that the shave won't stop this and he'll use the "I'm naked and pathetic" excuse to elicit food and attention from the neighbours.

Please, feel free to adopt him. This is one high maintenance cat.

oh damn, I've done it again.....

I have 1 car too many. Ooops.

Buy far the biggest drain on my income the last 18 months has been the bloody car. I would even go as far to say it matches child upkeep in $$ value. These are $$'s that could be much better invested in clothes, shoes and fine wine, not keeping my mechanic and BMW spare parts dealers in pink buns and cigarettes.

I have now bought a Nana car, a genuine Nana car. Sadly the Nana had passed on but the car keeps going. It is liitle, cheap to run, and spare parts are not an issue. Unfortunately it does have a back seat so the child can fit in but only with her head at right angles and resting on her knees.

So all you watchers who are hovering on the edge of my auction, push that button now....you know it's a bargain basement price....just DO IT!

The pain....the agony.....

A month ago the extra personal personal trainer suggested a change in our workout routines as we were getting a bit stale and can't be botheredy. The change was to do one month of cardio only followed by one month of weights only.

I now think that at the time I had a minor attack of sudden onset Alzheimer's and my concentration stopped at the word cardio....lovely cardio.....blissful cardio....run, paddle, bike, run....cardio, cardio,cardio. That is all in the past now.

Never ever EVER again will I take a month off weights. We have done 2 sessions so far (back and bi, chest and tri) and covered all the major muscle groups. I am in agony, I am currently typing this using a pencil in my mouth as it hurts too much to move my arms.

The extra personal personal trainer also omitted to mention the A word which is now included in the weights sessions. Abs. I have spent 25 years of gym memberships avoiding doing abdominal workouts, why should I start now? I like my marsupial pouch, I never expose it to the general public, and when I have saved up for my Trinny and Susannah knickers no one will know it exists.

I fear I may end up doing a Pankhurst and chain myself to the treadmill before this month is out.

Child abuse #4

No computer!!

My sorry little box that I call a computer finally spat the dummy on Friday night and refused to play at all, so the child had to go without the internet on a prime teenage networking/bebo night. It was razor blades all round, and she's probably now used all her 2000 texts as well.

I knew it was coming and had intended take off all the important data for safekeeping elsewhere this week, but the chaos that was work meant I didn't have time.

So now after 4 hours and 600 restarts I have reinstalled windows, updated everything (even tho Microsoft tells me it's not going to support my platform any more) and managed to save all the music files, both mine and child's (phew) and my images which of course is all I care about. Sadly I have accidentally (aka on purpose) deleted all the child crap and her profile.

So there I am feeling well pleased with myself that I've got it running again and connected to the world so I finally let the child on and what does she do.....moan loudly that all her little tool bars and widgets are gone and it doesn't look the same.

I now wish I'd taken it to work and let it sit on the office floor for a week!

I have a date this evening...

.......with cute 22 year old boy!

Oh it's so good to know that I can still pull the young ones, the HOT young ones that is. He's so cute, even his little faux-hawk haircut looks good on him.

Just proves that I'm still hot as when I called in my hour of need on Wednesday he came running, and even bought new shoes along the way because he knew I wouldn't approve of the ones he had on.

And now he gets an evening of my scintillating company.

I hope he doesn't bring his fiance with him.

It's me.....it's me....

When you are watching the news this evening please pay careful attention to any news items regarding Police and native terrorists. If you look closely you should see me.

All channels were interviewing this morning on the conference floor so I made sure I passed through back of frame many times, many many times.

Sadly I will not be home in time to watch, I may get the child to tape it.

Miss Gay Downunder 2007

On Saturday night I unexpectedly went out to this event, unexpected as until Friday afternoon I was unaware that it was being held, which is a direct result of venues being terribly inefficient about updating their websites. Anal Virgo I know but surely that's what the "upcoming events" tab is for!

However, this event was a Lesbian Beauty Pageant. No further description is needed as all those sad and tragic images that have come to your minds are all you need. The winner was the hyper speeding one and I do hope she has managed some sleep now.

The highlight of the night was discovering a new genre of Lesbians, the Baby Emo Dykes. They are so cute, they look like they've just fallen out of the nest. They are also very very good at androgyny, so good that the Mistress of Androgyny, aka My Girlfriend, had to look long and hard to decide what gender they were.

Hmmmm, makes me wonder how I would look if I was young and 20 again. They make my years of punk androgyny interspersed with the odd girly day seem dull and drab, and so 1980's.......

Telecom is not my friend

I have been thinking of late that I need a new mobile phone. I currently run 3 phones, mine on account and the children's on pre pay. As I am at the top of the food chain you would expect that I had the bestest most swishiest phone, this of course is not the case, the children's phones are far superior and more robust. I always fear when people call me on the mobile as I have to yell extremely loudly so they can hear me, and of course clients will always ring when I'm in the supermarket.

Last week number one daughter dropped her phone down the toilet and even after extensive drying out it refuses to play, so I have had to acquire a new phone for myself so I can pass on the old one. (I do still have the phone prior to that one in full working order, but as it is of a slim brick shape it is just NOT acceptable)

I decided to take up the current Telecom offer of a free hand piece (choice of 2 models) when you sign up for a particular contract, and as one of the phones is red I was even more tempted. Making this decision obviously involved a few phone calls to Telecom on the 123 number. Telecom now have voice recognition software on their customer service lines. The first time you hear it it is amusing, by the 4th time the novelty has worn off and screaming fuk fuk fuk at the robot voice only produces the answer, "I'm sorry, is that a billing enquiry you have?"

However, I duly managed to find out all the information I wanted, that is how to get the free hand piece and get out of the contract at a later date without being penalised, thank you Sam 610966.

So said phone duly arrived and I was very happy at it's sleek red shinyness. My girlfriend was happy because she could call me and hear what I was saying, number one daughter was happy as she had a replacement phone imminent, number two daughter was gutted.

Now my main use of a mobile phone is texting. This is how parents of this century keep communication open with their children, and yes I do the "dinner is ready" text on a regular basis. That one amuses me greatly as it is like one of those silent dog whistles, a mere push of a button and there is a sudden flurry of activity from upstairs. However, as I am old school wherever possible I spell words fully and correctly, and use correct grammer and punctuation. To do this I use predictive text. This is where it all starts to go sour.

I spent the first evening getting the phone all set up how I like it then started texting, but within a short space of time I got very very frustrated. Every time I tried putting in punctuation, you know simple things like a full stop, numbers would come up. Trying to toggle to fix it would just freeze the phone which meant I then had to pull it apart and take the battery out to re start it. I won't even start on what happened when I tried to put an apostrophe in. Finally realising that screaming fuk fuk fuk at it very loudly wasn't going to fix it I decided to take it into a Telecom shop.

The next day I trotted off to the Telecom store downstairs and started to explain the problem to the pimply yoof in the store, his first response was "I don't use predictive text so I don't know how it works". Errrrr....you are a customer service representative, and you don't know your product? I then fired up the old phone and gave him a quick demo on the old and new technology. He then proceeded to have a play on the new phone, managed to freeze it up and had to pull it apart to re start it, then informed me that he couldn't help me as I'd bought the phone from the call centre so would have to go back to them, but he did think it would have to be replaced. Soooooo back to the voice recognition software. By this time I knew the robots questions off by heart but I found that if you pre-empt it with your responses you get the same answer as screaming fuk fuk fuk at it.

I finally got to talk with a real person and started to explain the whole problem, which was a mission, but as soon as I said that pimply yoof thought it would need to be replaced they were quite happy to get that process going. Phew. I thought this might also be a good time to also bring up the point that the website advertises this phone as having downloadable ringtones and wallpapers, but when you go to the ring tone section of the Telecom website the phone is not listed. It was not a good point to make.

I was told quite cheerfully that "you download the ringtones from your phone, you don't use the website". Yes I said, but the phone connects to the internet to get the tone, "yes" was the response, and the internet site it connects to is the Telecom one, "yes" again was the response. So again I said that the phone wasn't listed in drop down box on the ringtone section of the website. The response to that was "but you use your phone to download ringtones". I gave up after that as it was turning into the "song that never ends" and I could feel another fuk fuk fuk coming on.

So a couple of days pass and new phone MK2 arrives. I decided to be very clever and learn bluetooth so I could transfer over my phonebook, all a great success and I even managed to remember which was old phone and which was new phone. I then decided to start texting. Not a good move.

Now the new phone is the same brand as my previous phone, but in 2 years vast amounts of software modification have taken place, and in some cases newer is not better especially the modifications/additions to predictive text. The replacement phone doesn't freeze and require dismantling, but it still has punctuation issues, and texting the word "can't" is a major drama. I can only surmise that even though the software has been "improved" it has also been dumbed down to the language of the text generation who have no idea what punctuation let alone what an apostrophe is.

I am not happy, but the lesson learnt is never to purchase a phone without fully playing with it first, even if it is a brand you are familiar with.

I think I may go ring Telecom again now to ask about the ringtones......

The Biggest Loser

After having a quick peek at my site meter this morning I think the new season of "The Biggest Loser" has started in the States. The top rating key words on my site stats for some time have been "is Jillian Michaels a Lesbian" as I had made a wee post on this topic a while back.

Last night (NZ time) over a period of an hour and a half I had absolutely lashings of hits from all over America from people trying to answer the question.

So Golfwidow or Curly, can you tell me has the new season started? And is she looking as hot as ever??

Dreadlock failure

I concede that my attempt at growing dreadlocks on my legs has failed. I am about to start unplaiting and full deforestation will take place on the weekend. Summer legs will now rule.

I guess I'll get my Lesbian card taken off me now.

Should I......shouldn't I.....

The child has received a disc of photos of her fathers wedding, they were taken by Nana. Sadly some of the bride are not flattering.......should I.......shouldn't I......

Bad Car

My car is sick and has been at the doctors most of the week. Apparently the gale force winds last weekend has forced rain into the engine computer. I fear that a couple of pink iced buns and a 6 pack of beer are not going to be enough to cover this bill, though they will keep my mechanic happy.

I have thus had to take the bus to work this week. I don't mind taking the bus and feel glad I live in a city that has a good (for New Zealand) public transport system, however over the last few days I've remembered why I stopped using the bus regularly, other than the fact that I have a car park at work. I go into a little daze/trance while studying humanity on the bus, reading body language, listening to conversations, seeing what people read, and then I forget to get off at my stop. Not normally a problem as the extra exercise is good for me, so I'm told, but this week with the horrendous weather and festering cold bug I don't need any extra foot mileage.

A functioning circuit board has now been found for the car so it's hopefully back to normal from tomorrow.

Remember when cars didn't have on board computers and they still worked ok?

Chid Abuse # 3

I am taking the children to stay with their paternal Grandparents tomorrow. I had organised the trip so they were there for a little shy of 36 hours but then Granddad rang back ON THE MOBILE to change times so they are now there for 48 hours. They are not amused.

I of course will just dump and run, then go and visit other friends in the area.

They are now begging and pleading to come with me, but as I have explained they have all the Grandparenty things they have to do, like go to the science museum AGAIN, or visit the lost pets at the RSPCA.

That will teach them for squabbling annoyingly over menu choices at the Chinese on Saturday night.

Gosh I've been quiet of late

Probably because I've been strangely busy in an odd way. On Saturday night I managed to kill one of the computers on my floor, tick done only one more to go. So for the last 3 days I've been running round with a dodgy laptop, setting up temporary internet connections to clear mail, shuffling data around servers, pc's and USB keys in an effort to keep 3 people working on 2 computers. And during all that dealing with a client who's laptop won't put out to a second screen, doh, don't you think it's a good idea to check that BEFORE you come to your meeting, another client who's laptop totally refused to play a DVD, because, well, it just wasn't in the mood, and then someone who scanned a 5 page document with the resolution set so high it became and 18mb file which they then proceeded to email to my coordinators office. My poor little newbie was blissfully unaware of the size of the file and set it to print thus jamming up the printer and her pc for 20 minutes before finally saying help......

I am a Conference Manager, this is not in my job description. If I'm going to be used as a geek I would like to be paid as a geek.

On a completely different tangent I received a lovely gift on the weekend, one of those things that you never realised you wanted so badly until it is actually given to you, and then you are suddenly filled with desire. I was very kindly given a copy of the new Clive James book Cultural Amnesia. I am so pleased but have yet to start reading it as it is still sitting at the altar, along with the vacuum cleaner, and being admired from the couch.

And on that note I had a visit last night from my friend who is not brave enough to blog yet, and at least 40% of our conversation over the evening was about vacuum cleaners. Now who's the sad fukker here?

Lesbians, penis envy and other related matters

On Monday morning baby dyke AV techie girl came into my office for a download. She said her girlfriend had kicked her out on Friday night, but then on Saturday morning once her bags were packed and she was ready to go her girlfriend changed her mind, in true lesbian fashion.

When I asked why she was kicked out her response was,

"because I wanted to spend the night with a boy, what, does she think she owns me or something?"

Doh! Yes,of course she does, you're living with a LESBIAN!

It made me think back to when I was baby dyke's age and the whole gender issue became all too hard. My response was to just give up on the sex bit all together and focus on drugs and rock 'n' roll. Oddly after 2 years of celibacy I still hadn't solved the gender issue, but as I'd not really given it any thought, to be expected.

So now it seems that 20 years down the line trying to have your cake and eat it too is still not acceptable in the lesbian world. I could fully understand why my ex husband wasn't too keen on my idea of staying with him and having a girlfriend as well, being as he was old school, and would no doubt have tortured himself with thoughts of "maybe the girl sex is better than sex with me?", which of course was true, but I honestly did think the younger generation were a bit more open. Not so apparently.

I guess one would have to have an "open" relationship to be able to play on both sides of the fence without hurting anyone.However in my limited observation of open relationships it seems that one person gets to sleep with whomever they currently fancy while the other seethes silently and keeps the razor blades handy, all the while professing that they are truly comfortable with the situation, honestly.

As a little aside I met a "threesome" earlier this year who were in NZ for a wee holiday and all staying at Mums. They were made up of the alpha dyke in her sharp chic London clothing, all chunky jewellery and edgy haircut. Then there was the baby dyke Londoner, young and fresh and bouncing around like a new puppy, and finally alpha dyke's original girlfriend with her shaved head and grumpy attitude. Not too hard to figure who called the shots, but what I really wanted to know was; what are the sleeping arrangements? Did they all share equally? Did grumpy get to play with puppy as much as alpha did? Who got to sleep in the middle? And many many more equally inappropriate questions.

So why are lesbians still paranoid about the odd shag with the male of the species. Where is it written that because you're involved with a woman it means you have to give up all male sex, or the attitude that you're not a "true" lesbian if you sleep with boys. As I tell my male friends, when it comes to sex why discount half the worlds population simply because of genitalia. I know there's many a heterosexual male out there who would just loooove for his girlfriend to occasionally have sex with another woman, why does it not work in reverse?

Why is sex a gender issue?

HELP, I need a makeover desperately

Recently I was involved in making a training video for the D.O L and I've just viewed the finished product. I have no idea what the video was about as I was too devastated at the way I looked.

My face was pale, no lippy, the back of my hair a mess, just awful awful awful. The only consolation is that at least I didn't look fat.

So Trinny, Susannah, even 10 years younger in 10 days, please come and help me, I promise to be a willing subject.

And NO, I will not be supplying the link so you can view it on line.

Icky Icky Icky

I just had to show you all this. This is a creation of His Holiness of Ick-ebana, it received major applause when he completed it yesterday.

Please note the special features of the dirt clinging to the celery and the piece de resistance, the labels still attached to the grapefruit. This has been the highlight of the week.

Thus ends my sad series on Ick-ebana, I'm sure the Map conference I have next will be infinitely more interesting.

I love my coffee girls

While getting my second caffeine hit this morning the coffee girls were discussing my age. As it was my birthday last week they have just found out my true biological age.

Apparently they were gob smacked as they had pegged me for at least 15 years younger. Bless, and their wages aren't even in my budget.

I told them my youthful looks were the result of all the drug taking in my well spent youth.

Another thing to thank the punk rock generation for.

Thwarted

I was going to attempt another vacuuming session after my run last night but was thwarted.

I fear the new toy may get put away in a safe place and rationed to me somewhat like the internet is with the child.

Come blog with me....

I'd suggested to a friend he should start blogging as our email exchanges amuse me greatly. This is his response.

I don''t think that the blogging world is ready for me just yet...or vice versa...though it is tempting I worry about the risk of the ultimate social crime - drinking and emailing; that's right, worse than wifebeating, smacking your children, doing party pills and voting National while talking on your cellphone, eating, drinking and driving a rav 4 AT THE SAME TIME.
There's just no knowing where it might end.
How did the wedding go, in the end? Everyone catch a fish?

Please join us, please....I won't tell the wife.

2 New Lust Objects.....

Well really it's one new lust object and one new toy. As you know it was my birthday over the weekend and now that the alcohol haze has cleared I can focus enough to show off my goodies. Please see below, and apologies that it's only a pixt but that's all there is!

This red bag, which of course the image just doesn't do justice too, was a gift from my beloved. It is a Briarwood and really is just too pretty for words. I don't usually go lustful over handbags, clothes and shoes spin my wheels, but this item is just too special for words. I finally understand.

The other item, which I don't have a pixt of, was not actually a birthday present but it gave me such joy that it can be included in this post. After months of research and general pondering my girlfriend finally went out and on impulse bought a new vacuum cleaner.

We went out to buy a specific brand and type, of a specific price, but came back with an item that was completely different technology and 3 times the price. Guess which salesman got the "sale of the day" award.....but I'm so happy. This is the "Tim the Toolman Taylor" of vacuum cleaners...more power! When it is running it sounds like a cross between a chainsaw and a high end food processor, you can see the dirt molecules shaking as it approaches.

I then spent the rest of the day vacuuming. Those who have been to our house and seen the oceans of salmon coloured carpet and met the cats will know why I am so overjoyed. I haven't put it away in the cupboard yet, I am still admiring it's beauty. I am tempted to vacuum the cat.

and the wedding day finally arrives

So today is the day of the children's fathers wedding and dammit it's fine and sunny, tho still a few hours to go.

I've already had a wee text exchange with number 1 daughter quoting "isn't it ironic, don'tcha think" to each other. Oooh I love the way she understands subtlety.

However a few ironic thoughts. The Bridegroom has conveniently forgotten to tell the girls that he and their new step mother are going to Fiji for a week, and now a state of martial law has been declared.

The Father still can't understand why the budget for clothes wasn't enough and why they both needed new undergarments for their dresses. Does one assume the Bride is wearing her "everydays" under her dress?

At the last minute I was informed to make sure they had warm coats with them as it "will be cold by the river at 5pm". Hulloooo, I've spent all this time and energy getting lovely little evening dresses for them and now they are to be rugged up!! Pashminas to the rescue.

However I do hope the girls have a great time, and I'm looking forward to hearing their descriptions of the food, clothes and venue.

A wee blonde moment

One more wee tit bit from my night out at the Great Chefs dinner, yes I know my life is so sad that one night out breeds many months of blog posts, bloody children is all I can say.

There was a hearty blonde as part of our group at table and as we were leaving our pre drinks venue I explained my drinking tactics for the evening to her, as I have attended many of these events before and have learnt how to last the night.

I told her my plan was to consume as much of the bubbles as I possibly could, then a mere sip or three of the following whites, and leave the reds to the male of the species. That sounds like a good plan she said, and when we arrived she promptly tottered off and secured us lashings of bubbles.

I forgot one important point when explaining the tactics to her, the limited concentration span of a blonde. I see now in hindsight that her brain had switched off at the end of the phrase "drink as much bubbles as possible"

It was not a pretty sight.

More Bloody Soccer

Not only was the park on the edge of civilisation but once the games started I found that the boys games were located very conveniently to the car park so viewers could sit in the comfort of their car.

No such creature comforts for the girls.The one and only girls game was on a pitch at the most extreme edge of the park, with vast fields of wasteland between the boys games and theirs. I can see the powers that be are really trying their hardest to keep girls involved in the game.

And whats with the fukkin umbrellas? Once the skies opened I had to make a mad dash for the car, partially because I didn't want to get wet, but mainly because I couldn't see anything through the fukkin enormous umbrellas that all the hearty family types were wielding. A bit too bloody "Country Life" for my liking.

Oh yes, and the lovely sign......"we're a clean air park and would appreciate you not smoking", but it seems that it's ok to take your dogs, and the count was 2 per person, to shit everywhere.

The coffee sucked as well.

Bloody children, Bloody soccer

The child has informed me that she needs to be delivered to a soccer game at some excruciatingly early time on Sunday morning. I thought her club games had finished as she is now doing intensive winter training for athletics, but no, she’s been chosen for the regional rep team and this is the first game. As well as being hideously early in the morning it’s also in the suburbs and not just any suburb but one at the furthest edge of the city, so far out that I will need to pack a little overnight bag for the journey.

I don’t know why they schedule games for teenagers so early in the morning as it’s a proven biological fact that teenagers have a different sleep pattern and don’t like early mornings. In fact one Wellington High School timetables their seniors to start at 10am to get better productivity from them. Why can’t the bloody soccer clubs do this? When the teenagers are wearily dragging their sorry arses off the soccer field the knee hugger grade is just starting. Hullooooo, those little buggers have been awake since 5am pestering their parents, is time to go yet, is it, huh huh? Till finally at a civilized time of day, ie; after the decent coffee shops have opened, they get to play.

There is also the drama of what does one do at a soccer field on the edge of civilization while the child is playing her game. No the correct answer is not watch the game.

I tried watching one of the games early in the season but I got sent off the field and banished to the car with all doors and windows firmly locked. The trouble is that at the child’s age grade there are not many girls’ teams around so they have to play mainly boys teams. I attribute this to the fact that at each end of the field they have goalposts and not hair straightening posts, plus there are no mirrors strategically placed along the field so they can check that they still look ok while they are running.

Playing boys teams means soccer Dads and their endless yelling abuse from the sidelines. Strangely the SD’s think the vitriol coming out of their mouths is encouragement. On this day there was a Neanderthal type hurling out little gems like, “they’re a bunch of girls, don’t let them beat you” (the girls were leading), “you can beat them, they’re only girls” etc etc. Gosh and we wonder why sexism is still rampant in our society.

My girlfriend could sense that I was about to go in for the attack and banished me to the car. I really wasn't going to be bad, honest, I was actually planning to praise him as it was quite astonishing that he’d learnt to string a sentence together that was almost comprehensible. Plus I was carrying no sharp objects.

While composing this little rant I have now realized what I will do this Sunday morning, I’m going to take my running gear! A devious Mother ploy of retribution, as while the child is playing her game I will go for a run round and round and round the edge of the grounds. The child will be mortified.

Oh yes, could someone tell my why if soccer is now officially called football in this country, why the national organization still refers to it as soccer?

It's true....I'm famous!!

Yes, as fluffydevil commented I was named "blog of the week" in the Herald on Sunday on 26 August, and I have spoken with the reporter involved to confirm it. Bugger forgot to organise a clipping.

I of course am now going to gloat, in a most gracious way, but gloat I will.

So to all you Wellington bloggers, if I manage to make drinks next week I will expect to be toasted with lashings of bubbles, and greeted with the most humblest of bows or curtsey's depending on which gender you ascribe to.

(Oh.....and maybe one of you could tell me how I can set up the "email me" feature on my site so in future I can be contacted direct by the media....she says in her most sheepish and grovelling manner)

Why?

Why does this software have this erratic paragraph spacing problem, it's most annoying. When I typed the post below all the paragraphs were perfect and now look at it, and no amount of editing will fix it. Bah..humph.

On Pacific Blue and weight loss

Yes I've done it and I'm well pleased. In my glee at getting such cheap flights for a dancing weekend in Auckland I of course let all and sundry know. As a result newsroom girl sent me this wee snippet, and coffee girl this morning was saying the same.....

Greenpeace is warning cheap airline fares will only add to climate change.
Pacific Blue has launched its domestic service with fares of 39 dollars.
The airline will raise fares after six months but they'll still be under a hundred dollars between the main centres.
Susannah Bailey from Greenpeace says the price doesn't take into account the environmental damage.

Oh sod off Greenpeace, I'm seriously considering removing my bequest to you from my will, I'm sure someone else out there would greatly appreciate the $100. Anyway, the news a few weeks ago was saying the worlds oil supplies were to run out in 5 years so in the meantime I'm going to use up as much as I can on self indulgent cheap flights to Auckland to party and play with my friends.

On the subject of weight loss, I've just had this weeks "Biggest Loser" weigh in and another good loss, I'm now only 700 grams above my start weight. At morning briefing this morning it was decided that anyone who gets below their start weight will win, I'm gonna do it!! And ha ha to my staff who were trying to hinder my efforts by making a little altar around the toaster with all my favourite breads and bagels, I resisted........and the chocolate eclair that I'm currently eating doesn't count. However I have just been asked to take up a spare seat at the famous chefs dinner tomorrow night, which of course I have to do though, WHAT WILL I WEAR?

I think I am going to achieve new records on the treadmill this week.

I can't help myself

I've been resisting all morning but I just have to do it, blog about one of my clients that is! Bad form I know but I just need to get it out of me.

I know we all like to make the most of our appearance before a big event but sometimes fresh and new just doesn't work. The head henchwoman of one of the events I have in at the moment has had her hair "done" ready for these next couple of days. When I saw her last week her hair was a boring SWABH, but now it's been done, or should I say DONE.

Orange stripes should not be attempted on anyone over the age of 20 and even then they should be discreet. The beige under colour is lovely and flattering but she looks like she has strips of floor mop lying on top.

I hope this is not some post menopausal trauma I have yet to look forward to.

Bad Vogels, Bad!

Vogels has a new product out, well fairly new. It is EXTRA thick which means it soaks up EXTRA butter.

It arrived in the main kitchen and staff cafe about 2 weeks ago, and as that is one floor up I have been able to avoid it. It has now arrived in my kitchen. I think this is a ploy by my staff to hinder my attempts in the "Biggest Loser" competition as I'm now only 1.3kg above my starting weight. In fact I'm convinced it is sabotage as a 4 slice toaster has appeared as well.

I would recommend that Vogels discontinue this line immediately.

Lend me your ears

It's been quite chilly of late and coffee boy's way of dealing with it is to wear and extra pair of ears. One would have hoped that by having two sets of ears he may have doubled his listening skills, not so, he's still as irritating as ever.

Fortunately since this pixt was taken he has headed off to Canada, to some competition, quite possibly an irritating one. One did wonder what he would be like if he didn't consume so much of the product, I fear the answer would still have been irritating.

I wanna dance!

Why is that Auckland can manage to hold 2 successful women's dance nights each month and Wellington can't even manage 1, and when it is attempted it's a fukkin disaster.

I wanna go out and dance, at a nice venue packed full of Lesbians and the odd token gay boy, have good beats and dance my arse off.

Yeah yeah, I know, I should stop moaning and organise something myself, but as I spend 50 hours a week organising events for other people when it comes to down time I'd rather someone else took control. Besides I'm old, setting up dance events is a young peoples game.

And as for Our Bar, what a joke. Their website said "join our mailing list so we can keep you up to date on events", oh right so every time you click on the link and send an email it gets rejected. Then after trying another method and a different email address I get a response, but I'm still waiting for my update emails. It's been over 3 months now. Judging by the current link on the main Wellington website they obviously stopped doing anything on the 23rd of May. Great marketing gals, you're really going to pull in the punters with that.

So come on Wellington lesbians, get off your arse and make something happen, stop being boring.

And if anyone comments and tells me I can go dance at The Pines I will personally hunt you down and rip your clit out.

Ripe for the picking

I have just spied growing in the gardens down the centre of Lambton Quay some beautiful red, green and yellow Swiss chard, that's funny coloured silver beet to you peasants. Usually they have the pretty decorative curly kale, looks lovely but no desire to eat as it's too closely related to cabbage.

I'm very tempted to sneak out and harvest in the dead of the night, but I fear the lead levels would counteract any goodness I would gain from eating it.

Big fat lie!!

I won't pick it because most recipes I use it in have lashings of yummy Gruyere cheese, cream and eggs, and I have the work "Biggest Loser" weigh in tomorrow. Since the in-house competition started I have gained 2.3kg, I think I'm going to win.

Help me Mrs Smith!

The children's father is getting married shortly and I have been instructed to find a suitable dress for the child to wear. Both children have said they are going to the wedding. Number 1 daughter is only going if number 2 daughter goes, and number 2 daughter is going because it means she gets new clothes.

Naturally I am somewhat loath to put too much time and effort into this task, even though it does involve clothes shopping, as the wedding is on my birthday weekend thus ruining my plans, and he is marrying the Vulture who refuses to have either child (except for her own) in the house.

I have been given a budget of $100 to cover dress and shoes, YES, that is dress AND shoes. Pick yourself up off the floor Smith because the best bit is coming..............the wedding is being held at Huka Lodge. By my reckoning it 3 doubles and 1 suite.

I am feeling very drawn to getting one of the nasty fake Gucci prints in a very staticy fabric that are in all the chain stores this season, preferably in a print vile enough to put everyone off their meal, but as the child would refuse to wear it, and has to wear it all evening I will resist.

I think I need another conversation with number 1 daughter to see what she is thinking of wearing, and then purchase something that clashes violently with it. She would appreciate that.

A new group

I see there is a new lesbian networking group that has been started, catering to those women that love frocks and stiletto's and naturally the odd handbag or two. I have pasted in their promo from the website, see if you can guess what's bothering me about it......

Capital City Femmes
the group for Wellington women who love women, high heels and handbags!
Capital City Femmes is a new group aiming to bring together the capital’s feminine lesbians in pursuit of fabulousness: dining, salsa & ballroom classes (two left feet a must!), twilight cruises and plenty of cosmopolitan drinking.For those game for a laugh, we are also planning some daytime activities, rollerblading (beginners), dog walking and maybe a bit of quad biking up the Kapiti Coast for the adventurous.

I am tempted to join, simply so I can see how they are going to quad bike in their stilettos with handbags in tow.

Only because I fully understand

I'm so proud....

While watching a favourite tv show last evening I had the usual text conversation with number 1 daughter which went as follows......

From her, "Die, Marcel, die"

My response, "ROFL",

To which she replied,"Mum, I don't think you should use any acronyms, they are lame".

I'm so proud of her because;

• She spelt everything properly, in full and with the correct punctuation.
• She used the word acronym correctly, in the right context and displayed true understanding of it's meaning.
• She cares enough to let me know what is no longer cool in the teenage world.

Thats my girl!

Cruel tricks # 1

Yes, I know they are all Judges and their minds are on higher things, and it is a residential course so they are all in their civvies, but surely, SURELY, someone could have told him that his jeans are just way too short.

Nice socks buddy!

Bad Bad Fashion Crime

OMG, I can't believe I've done it, and it's been like this for 2 hours now and I've only just noticed!

I've got the wrong suit jacket on for my trousers!

I only noticed during morning briefing and could barely get my spiel out I was so mortified. Faint pin stripes on the bottom and plain black on top, and not only is the wrong jacket but it's my LEAST favourite one as well.

I'm sure I only had 1 wee sample from my new bottle of Vanilla Vodka last night.

New Hospital Questions

In light of the new questioning policy I have been pondering how I would respond to these new questions. Being the dreadfully honest person that I am I suppose it would have to be the truth....

"My girlfriend always threatens to beat me up, but then never follows through".

I guess I shouldn't ask them for help on that one.

Warning

I have a nasty cold and that coupled with nasty work means I have not had a run for over a week. This means that my dopamine, serotonin and all other general endorphin levels are very low so I am extremely foul tempered.

Therefore when a client asks rather sarcastically if they are going to get teaspoons the answer of course is "fuck off and use your fingers".

I think I should keep my door shut today.

Why is it that.....

.....when you go to the hairdresser for a haircut it takes them a mere soupcon of product and a flick of the wrist and your hair is looking totally fab, however come the following morning and you try to recreate this yourself, after 20 minutes of anguish one has to give up and yet again resort to wearing the paper bag.............

Rugby Reality Advertising

No further comment needed.

Lesbians and IQ

One of those random ponderings....as you do. Was mulling over the fact that most of the lesbians I know have a degree, some have 2 degrees, and a couple are even PhD's. So naturally from this I can extrapolate all sorts of interesting trivia.


1: Most lesbians are of higher intelligence than their heterosexual counterparts ( I look forward to Cactus's response to this)

2: Higher education turns women into lesbians (heh heh go CK!!)

3: This reinforces the belief that sexuality is genetically driven as these women will have thought long, hard and intelligently about succumbing to their sexual desire and attraction to other women.

4: Explains why historically it was thought that education was wasted on women. They would see the light and reject the male of the species.


I'm sure there are many more sweeping generalisations that can be gleaned from this. Think I'll pass it on the the cartographeress (bachelors) and see if some fancy graph or pie charty thing can be made from it.

Is she, or isn't she??

Now we all know Jillian Michaels is hot, super Hot, Uber HOT, so hot in fact that if she was on Top Gear she'd be in the fridge. So while I was trawling through her website I came across an interesting little fact hidden away at the bottom of the page which says:

Two years later, she and a partner opened Sky Sport and Spa in Beverly Hills, where she began training her former ICM clientele. She was then convinced by a former ICM co-worker to audition for "The Biggest Loser."

So at the mention of Sky Sport and Spa little bells go off in my head telling me I know that place, it was the location of "Workout". This was a funny little reality show about a gym managed by a lesbian. I got hooked into it because, well it contained nice bodies and Jackies girlfriend was just so AWFUL. After watching a few shows I thought it was a mockumentary, however I have recently found out it is apparently true. This is Hollywood though so not the real world.

However, back to the point of this post. Jackie is the owner of Sky Sport and Spa in Beverly Hills and according to her bio she opened this business.

Now of course being the gossip hound that I am, and with the gaydar spinning out of control, I'm putting 2 and 2 together and making 5.

Please tell me she is!

Nicole Ritchie lookalike Winner

....or maybe it should read "when ACTivism goes bad"..........

As we all know in some cases white collar crime DOES pay, but what I can't understand is the obsession with the Annette Presley/Christine Rankin look, and the person who did her "colours" should be shot.

If I asked nicely do you think she'd pay my childrens school fees?

And then it was all over

So finally first born arrived at this time 16 years ago. I was totally oblivious as the medical professionals had eventually stopped commenting on the lovely tautness of all my pelvic muscles and decided to knock me out and forcibly rip said child from my womb.

I still can not understand why after enduring over 48 hours of labour I turned around and did it all again. I think the theory was if I'm going to do this again I'm going to get it out of the way bloody quickly.

To any of you who are contemplating spawning, please feel free to borrow one of my children for a day or two. I find they are a very effective contraceptive.

40 Hours and counting

....So, 16 years ago I was still in labour. By this time I had hit the 40 hour mark and the medical professionals were still aiming for the holy grail of "natural" birth.

As you can imagine I was deliriously excited when at one of the regular probes they announced I was 2cm dilated. Maybe I had taken the instruction to strengthen the pelvic floor muscles a little too far.

16 years of Labour

I have just realised that 16 years ago I was in labour, and had been for some 12 hours or more.

You will just have to keep checking in to see when this labour bore fruition.

Advanced Child Abuse

As it has been the school holidays number 1 daughter has been home for the last two weeks. During this time I am emotionally blackmailed into cooking her favourite dishes. Some do come with the proviso of an hour of cardio which surprisingly gets done with good grace.

She is naturally very curious each evening as to what is for dinner, and being the highly skilled mother that I am, I admit nothing until the very last minute. I was being heavily nagged one evening, the question being:

"Are we having spinach pasta for dinner ?"
"No", I replied "we're having Rigatoni with bechamel sauce finished with a Florentine garnish"
"What's that ?", was her response.
"Look for yourself" I said handing her my ancient copy of Le Repertoire de la Cuisine.

4 minutes passed while she navigated the index section and sub indexes.

"It says here that bechamel is a rocks moistened with milk" she read aloud.
"No, the word is roux, as in kanga" was my response.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, "I know what that is, it's a white sauce. I can't find Florentine though"
"Look in the garnish section", I directed her.

3 and a half minutes later the book gets slammed down on the bench.

"I know what Florentine is, it's the name of the eggs when you buy brunch, it's spinach!! And Rigatoni is that pasta in the bag with the numbers on it, so we ARE having spinach pasta for dinner!" she said with a definite humphy tone.

"Yes, but darling think of all that you have just learnt without having to switch the bloody computer on!" I replied with only the merest hint of heavy sarcasm.

Public Service Announcement

I see last night on the TV that a new very slick and caring sharing Public Service announcement was aired featuring Mr J Lomu. The ad was sponsored by all the Energy Companies and the message was "if your life depends on electricity, please let you power company know". Even though they very skillfully moved the focus from respirators to dialysis machines the whole thing is still very much like closing the gate after the horse has bolted.

Is this going to be the new benchmark, are we going to get a whole series of these. I have already thought of a few examples:

"if your life depends on not being shot by a paroled killer when you are on a trail bike ride, please let your local corrections department know"

"if you life depends on being given a correct assessment and not being sent home from A & E please let your Hospital board know"

I'm sure there are many many more out there.

Child Abuse #2

As it's school holidays I can't do the tomato slices in the sandwiches torture so have had to devise another. It is very effective and is best done when the child has friends around for maximum impact.

It works like this; wait till the child has a friend around and they are fooling around on the computer. Go into the kitchen to do prep then start singing very loudly, and of course very badly, snippets from all her current favourite songs that she plays over and over and over. Something like this....

"under my umbrella ella..ella..ella

You are my addiction

I can be your girlfriend

under my umbrella..ella..ah...ahh..ahhhhhhhhhhhh"

Works a treat!

Leggings

After a brief discussion over at Brenda and Sandy's about leggings, here is the image that I couldn't insert.

Please note the bagging around the knee's as again this is in the days prior to lycra being put into everything, and also the result of climbing up the side of the fjord. The leggings were a master piece from H & M and were a 4/4 rib knit which expanded brilliantly and lasted through 2 pregnancies. The boots are Monkey Boots (of course) with 2 pairs of socks, white rolled over black.

The hair, well there's no excuse except to say this is what happens when you live on a remote fjord in Iceland with no access to hairdressers, decent bleach, or continual and regular alcohol supplies.

Bad girls, BAD!

Oh no, I'm about to get out my razorblades and head in the wrist direction. All my excitement and anticipation of Trinny and Susannah being back in my life and it was so SO disappointing.

Girls, it's about the clothes and the shopping with a tiny bit of the humanistic stuff thrown in for good measure at the end just to show that you did good. As you said last night you are not marriage guidance counsellors, so don't do it! Get off this zig zag path you're on and back to the straight and narrow....clothes, shopping, fashion, clothes shopping, fashion. Where's the mirror chamber of death? And no the sillouhette screen is not an adequate replacement.

As much as I like reality makeover shows, and they were such a sad couple last night where it was plainly obvious that no matter how much T & S could try and change them the wife is still going to leave, it was almost too cringe making to watch.

I will check in again of course next week and desperately hope there will be more shopping per minute. Please don't let me down.

Let's create a whole new illegal market

Well if Mr Anderton has his way there will be.

Just what the gangs and other dealers need is a new product to have on the market, cos well, P is just getting such bad press, and grass is so 1980's.

So a big thank you and hand clap to Mr Anderton for trying to bring a whole new generation of customers to the dealers and creating another illegal drug, because that's just what this country needs.