Speed Dating

Oops, no, got that wrong, speedrenting, that's where I'll be tomorrow evening. The flatmate search continues. I think I'll take the child as well so she can learn all about the flat hunting process.

It's quite odd, others tell tales of being indundated with prospective flatmates when they have advertised recently, but so far I've only had a possible no, and a most definite NO turn up. Whimper.

Madly trying to think of ways to rewrite my ads so they draw in the masses, and make people instantly want to move in here, because it really is such a lovely house to live in. I guess my absolute worst case scenario would be to go on a second date with a lesbian. I am chanting madly to ensure that doesn't happen.

There is other news in the world of unpclesbian, of which some of you know already, but I will make a proper announcement about that when there is a bit more to announce about. Now madly searching for something along the lines of "HTML for Dummies".

Flatmate Wanted

I was informed on the weekend that the flatmate will be moving out shortly, so I am again on the hunt for a new flatmate and shamelessly networking everywhere, including here.

On offer is a double bedroom with built in wardrobe and a private office/lounge in a large sunny house with fabbo views. There is the added extra of the teenager, plus all the usual electronic and cyber necessities one needs to survive. There are of course all those white things that cook, chill, wash and dry your various items of clothing and food, and heat pumps. Lovely heat pumps.

So if you are looking for a new place to live, or know of anyone who is, you know the drill. Just comment me with your contact details and I will give you further information. Comments will not be published.

I am now back to madly chanting and visualising the super cool flatmate I am going to get to ensure this becomes a happy experience.

Naked Lesbian in a Hot Tub

I know, a slutty title to drag you in, but trust me, you won't be disappointed.

I have returned from my adventures in Queenstown and as expected I didn't want to leave. I very much enjoyed the lifestyle I was living down there and sulked greatly at the thought of returning to reality, I'm still Not Happy about it. However here are a few holiday snaps for your amusement.

First up the view from the front deck. Sigh.

On Saturday we headed into Queenstown for the first adventure, and handbag quite enjoyed the gondola ride up to it.

On the way up got the first glimpse of the head fuk that was to follow.

After a brief girly tizz to start with (even though I am apparently NOT femme!!) I managed to get over myself and do the deed.

As you can imagine I was feeling Well Pleased with myself after that and ready for the next challenge, which turned out to be drinking.  I humbly bow to my hostess and her superior skills in that particular field.

The following day was the flying fox adventure, which seemed somewhat tame in comparison but still fun. It reminded me of playing on the Army confidence courses in my youth. A childhood pastime that is probably banned now along with  jungle gyms. Lucky me to be born before playground safety was invented.

The last day saw us jet boating on the Shotover but sadly no images of that as it is quite hard to take a picture when you are hurtling directly into a rock wall, but I do have one taken just before leaving the house. I thought Dolly might like jetboating.

And of course the one you've all been waiting for, though really it's just for Little Drummer Boy so he can see the results of the back work. The hot pools were lovely, just what this girl needed.

So as you can see reality is now frightfully dull after my wonderful long weekend away, and I really can't thank my hostess enough for making this adventure happen. I am forever grateful.

I do of course now have a bucket list..........

Adventure Time

On Friday I am being whisked off on a Girls Own Adventure weekend in Queenstown via a fortifying pre holiday scoff at Boulcott Street Bistro tomorrow night. I do hope the alcohol free temple that has been my body of late will cope with the lashings of bubbles I would like to consume. I would be mortified if I had to use those little paper bags on the plane.

While I am away I will be doing a range of adventure activities that include jumping off high places with my feet tied to a rubber band. Maybe a spot of jet turbines and water play. At least one "scenic" outdoor run is planned, which I won't be wearing my new pink running shoes for as I'd hate to get them dirty, and lashings and lashings of these. They may not be thermal mineral ones but they are still Hot Pools. It has been too long since my last hot pool.

In between all this frenetic activity I will be slumming it at this shack. (and I have just spent the last hour trying to find some code to embed it with to no avail, so sorry, link only). It is a bit long, but at around the three minute mark you can see one of the showers. I think I will be spending a lot of time in the shower as well. There are three of them. They will all need testing.

I do fear that I may do a Pankhurst and chain myself to the railings and refuse to leave. Must remember to pack an appropriate suffragette outfit. So adieu, I may be gone for some time.

PS: in case you thought I was exaggerating here are my new pink running shoes, highlighting the pretty insoles that I will sadly have to remove to fit orthotics in, and three of my favourite drink coasters for no reason at all other than they live on the coffee table.

Sad, but True.

Further proof that for many being a lesbian is an excuse to eat all the pies.

Like Mother?

The child is getting all precious as she is modelling at this event on the weekend. She was only mildly precious to start with as she originally was only modelling for Egg, and wasn't relishing the idea of wearing a fake belly, (I have had to resist chortling loudly at the idea of the 17 year old bean pole in maternity clothes) however over the last few days there have been Major Developments.

She was sent to a fitting on Monday at the Calvin Klein store, the clothes are crap apparently, then on Tuesday was emailed and asked to go for a fitting for Sophie Burrowes. It turns out the stylist for that label saw child at the Monday fittings, and wanted her for their clothes as the model they had been assigned was too gifted in the mammary area. Child is ecstatic as it turns out this label is the ultimate of coolness. I have filed away for future reference the fact that a lack of breast tissue is a Good Thing, and no longer can I be berated for passing on the small breast gene.

Of course, as this blog is all about me, I have been recalling my own brief foray into the world of clothes horsing, and for your amusement have dragged out the only surviving digital images. In this one I was wearing clothes from a wee label called No Pussyfooting who had a shop on Kitchener St in Auckland.

I wish I'd been allowed to keep the shoes, gold lamé. Sigh.

The other image I have put up here before. I was wearing clothes of my own and I had my Opera going shoes on. I was doing a still shot for something but I really can't recall what. Oh well, as they say, if you can remember the Eighties you weren't really there. I do remember that the trousers were a size 10, one would NEVER forget an important fact like that. (though one is trying very hard to forget that they were waist high)

Again sigh, as I wish I'd kept those shoes. Peep toe stilettos, very fashionable now, and I won't even start on the sunglasses. Uber sigh.

Tax Drama

This morning while sorting my donation tax rebate I logged into the IRD site to check my earnings and decide what to do with it. I did the quick calculation thing and found that I apparently owe $1.5k to the IRD for the last financial year. Thinking I'd had a blonde attack I rang them and got one of their people to do the calculation, and they came up with the same horrendous number, but no reasonable explanation other than my redundancy payout last year accounting for some, but not all. 

My first thoughts are what a fukkin rort. I'm a salary earner so all my income is taxed at source at the rates supplied by the IRD. I can claim a rebate for the redundancy payout but that only deals to a third of the debt. My employers have deducted the PAYE correctly at the correct tax code.

If had a six figure income and masses of investments then I would expect a bill like this, but my income for that year (tho inflated due to redundancy) was still well below the Wellington average, so I fail to see why there is such a big bill.

It's a fukking rort, that is all, and yet another slap in the face for a hard working tax payer. If I was hiding income in trusts a la Mr English et al, then of course I wouldn't be moaning. It appears to be a debt that is created by the PAYE system in place in this country. I didn't create the debt, the fukkin tax system did and I get to suffer. I already pay enough tax each week to support a pensioner and a beneficiary but apparently that's not enough. I really don't think I'm getting value for money on the tax I pay each week.

Yes I was made redundant last year and I could have gone poor me, poor me and become a beneficiary, instead I chose to bust my arse and got myself another job. This is my reward. Just when I can finally think yay now I can actually save a bit and start looking at future investments, (or Mummy treats) I will instead be saving for a debt that I didn't create.

It's a fukkin rort, and I'm now dithering between joining the VRWC and their free market user pays economics, or running with the Pinko's and saying fuk the rich!

Wasted Bandwidth

On Thursday evening number one daughter came over for a visit, and for Mummy to upload more music off her external hard drive. While she was here we watched, for the first time ever, TV on Demand. Two episodes of Trinny and Susannah Makeover America to be exact. Funny that.

I felt a bit naughty using up bandwidth, as you know streaming video and audio is bad bad bad, but as I have 10gig to play with I thought I should use some. Also, we wanted to see how much the two episodes used, to see if she can watch tv online at her hostel and stay within her mb limit.

The next day I checked my meter and found I was almost out of bandwidth for the month, and NOT from the 350mb of online watching. Someone last weekend used 1.5gig of data in one day, plus there were other 1gig days during the month. I knew it wasn't me as the boy was in town and I was otherwise occupied. It wasn't the child as her pc is so archaic she can't even watch youtube let alone streaming anything, so I questioned the flatmate.

It turns out she was listening to streaming audio podcasts from - wait for it - National Radio. OMG, vast amounts of bandwidth wasted on Kim Hill! Fuk me, she's hot, but not That Hot!

Needless to say flatmate won't be doing that again.  I am now going to make a concerted effort to use up my full quota of bandwidth in future. Have only been averaging 3 - 5 gig a month, that is all going to change. Though of course now need a remote mouse so I don't have to leave the couch once the laptop is patched into the big screen. Sigh, so many gadgets needed to keep up with technology.

Girl Lust

I don't normally do handbags in a big way, more find one that suits then use it everyday. However it seems that when I succumb and fall in lust, I do it HARD.  I realise you long term readers will remind me about this bag and my proclamations of lust for it, and yes as much I do still like her, she is just tooooo high maintenance, so can't be used every day.

For the last few years I've been using my Jaqui Brown bag (so called because Jaqui had the same one the first series of her show) but the zip has broken, the fauxleather is peeling, and it is just very very tired. Over the last few weeks I have been going through the great handbag drama. There have been two false positives, one handed on to the child and one currently on Trademe, until eventually I had to give in to the piece of gorgeousness that has been taunting me for weeks.

It was obviously meant to be, as when I finally caved and went to purchase I was pleased to find further discount on the already sale price.

Here she is:

Surprise, surprise, it's red. Funny that. Every little detail about it is just perfect, the way the handles are connected,

The detailing on the front corners,

Then just to finish off the cute polka dot lining and silky tassel to open the internal zip.

Of course I now need a pair of shoes to match.

Hallucination?

I appear to be hallucinating. I found something on the kitchen floor this morning. It looked real. It felt real when I removed it, but obviously it wasn't real as no one else in the house appeared to see it even though they were out of bed before I.

Others in the house managed to feed their cat and hang their washing out and not see or remove it, so obviously it is just an hallucination of mine. Sigh. I think I'd prefer a hot flush.