Second Child Syndrome

I've been told off from afar as I haven't been blogging enough lately, but as I haven't been doing anything other than work there's not been a lot to comment on. Had a massive week last week with another coming up, but yay I get to head off and play in Auckland at the end of it.

The main topic of discussion this week has been what I refer to in the title. When I left the gym yesterday I got a text from first born saying "62% ATTENDANCE FOR THE YEAR, WTF". That meant she had arrived home and read the sisters final school report. When I got home first born was bristling with indignation about it. It really winds her up that the sister just isn't trying, as she thinks the sister is far smarter than herself, so she can't understand why second born is cruising and just scraping in with the minimum marks needed. First born is smart, but is also a solid worker which shows in her A- average for her first year at Uni.

On Saturday I went on a little road trip and caught up with two sets of old friends, both of whom have children of similar ages to mine. At both houses the first born was there studying madly for first year exams, and the second born was nowhere to be seen. The second child syndrome was discussed in much depth. Sadly we have all come to the same outcome, and that is to just let them be and learn their lessons the hard way. In each family the second born thinks they know everything, can't be told anything, and refuse to listen to advice from parents or other siblings. We have had enough of being abused or ignored so have let them be, sigh. At least I know I'm not alone in the issue.

I am continuing in the usual method of child discipline, and she hasn't had any internet for most of a week. She has been out a lot, but is now home and ill so I guess the chores will be done soon. Below is a pic of why the cable gets removed. This picture is a few weeks old, but the room is back to the same state.

For those of you on facebook the picture is up there and at the request of Cactus has been tagged to identify items.

I have just finished the great window cleaning adventure, but I see now I may have to  revisit some parts. Oh well, at least the pollen crust is gone. Now off to clock up a few k's on the treadmill, as the weather man lied and it's too fukkin windy to run outside, and hopefully throw some weights around to finish with. Oh my, it's such a scintillating life I lead.



Latest OCD Tune

I want to sing like Clarence Fountain! If anyone has a better version of this let me know as I'd really like to hear the piano part more. And NO, there is no maximum amount of times that one can listen to this over and over and over.



Wartime Rations

We are currently living on a wartime rationing economy while I pay off the fukkin tax bill.  The photo below will give you an indication of how this works. I'm sure I can get another two months out of my eyeliner pencil.



You Know

You know you've been hanging out too much in one section of society when you see an ad on tv for an upcoming show, and it takes a few minutes before you realise that Trans-Tasmania is not a gender blurred comedy team from Hobart, but in fact a play off between NZ and Oz teams.

Sigh

Happy Camper

Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings, front row seat, I am squirming with joy. Horn players, lots of horn players, what more could a girl want. This is one happy camper.



Random Wine Wankery

I went on a date this weekend. I guess you could call it a practice date, as it's been a fair few months since I last went on one that I had to remember how it all worked.

We met at a wine bar and after the second glass I found I lapsed into a bit of wine wankery. I have since been told that I was being informative, but that may just be politeness talking. However, I had been looking at the wine list and was saying how I read these lists by the name of the winemaker and their palates, then started rattling them all off.

Oooh, I've now just thought of a good game. Phil, you may want to play, Kenniff you can't for obvious reasons! On this wine list there was; the sperm donor, Tim Turvey, John Hancock,  Gavin Yortt, Tony Bish (swoon), some Rod McDonald, many Peter Cowleys, a few Grant Edmonds, and I think a Kate Radburn.The game is, name these wineries, a chocolate fish for each one you get right.

I ended up chatting with the Wine bar owner a bit as well, as I'd got on to the topic of Grange Hermitage and the shocking prices it commands since Robert Parker rated it so highly and the American market pushed up the price. (see I told you it was total wankery) The owner then asked of my involvement in the industry, so I told of my working in the business, and of my long term connection with the sperm donor.

He then said, "G***** has done a couple of winemaker dinners for us this year, I've caught up with him a few times." It took all my willpower to resist saying. "lucky you, that equates to about 15 times more time than he has spent with his children this year". Three hours per year really is not acceptable.

I will now put my claws away and carry on with my night.

Pure Vanity

I had a hair cut today and while I was trying to take pictures of it I ended up taking this one of my back. Yes, I know it's total shameless vanity putting it up here and on facebook, but it's the first time I've seen properly the result of all those hours in the gym. I did have another one that showed my lats better, but my shoulders and biceps didn't look so good, and since this is about pure unadulterated vanity, you only get this one.



Failed Again

I failed another test yesterday, the earthquake kit check. The firm issues all staff with a small civil defence pack but we are expected to add to it with other items such as shoes and clothes. In light of the 4 September quake there has been much emphasis put on ensuring everyone has a full kit.

We had a surprise check yesterday and when asked where my kit was I found that "on the bedroom floor so I can trip over it" was not the correct answer. Whimper. It will be in the office tomorrow. I will most definitely get a chocolate fish on the next lightening raid.

Today I've been a failure on other levels as well. I blame it on a touch of the child's sudden onset short duration glandular fever, plus the fact that there is a new boy learning the print room and he is doused in a smell that evokes thoughts still too fresh. I'm a pathetic sensitive soul with olfactory memory, so may tell his manager that particular fragrance is banned on my floor.

As penance for being so wimpish I did 45 minutes cardio on the most hated equipment, rower and bike with sprints on both, and in one of those karmic moments the following tune came up on shuffle.



I am looking forward to tomorrow. I'm going to the suburbs to look at a particular item of furniture. I will take my earthquake kit with me in case I can't find my trail of crumbs. I'm sure it's going to take me most of the day to do this task.

Not Fair!

Bloody Aucklanders get everything. I've just found out about the show below, and not just one show, but two. So Not Fair!! Why can't they share. My Mummy taught me it was good to share. Of course it is way too late for me to get there for it, plus I have 'other plans' for this weekend.



Not only does it feature members of Joy Division (and in Finn tradition an offspring as well), and they play the album sequentially, but also one of the support acts is my old mate Harry. Harry the Bastard of the Club H releases, aka Harry Ratbag from Rip it Up when it a freebie way back in the 80's, aka Harry Russell one of my partners in crime at the Six Month Club. Ugh, brief break for a drift down memory lane....

A Certain Bar, my that was so long ago. Anyone out there remember it and the blue pool tables? The Six Month Club was the bizz. I was the coat check girl, my bestest job EVAH. Danced my arse off, made a fortune, only drank French bubbles. The Brat wasn't quite so lucrative for fun or coat checking loot due to layout, but stuck it for a few weeks before I went off and explored the world on my coat money.

So, not only does Auckland get the only Adam show, but now the uber cool Unknown Pleasures one as well. I am moving to advanced sulk mode.

Deja vu

A few weeks ago I rewatched the movie L A Story, a Steve Martin movie where the lead character got his life advice from a talking freeway billboard. I had an l.a.story moment today. I ran round the  bays clockwise, and when I got to the edge of Greta Point the speed control sign flashed at me, à la l.a.story. It said 10k. I waved, said thanks and carried on running laughing. It was only talking to me, yes?