wigglewhiz | Entries tagged with random

OK, I can't resist the Census Meme. I don't know why, but I can't.

March 2011: I'm living in Invercargill, New Zealand, with Himself. I live in a pretty, relatively spacious 3-bedroom house with a garden and a garage with private parking and all sorts of nobby stuff. I own a barbecue. I'm living a bit of a sweet life in the material sense at long last. I'm working the most seriously grown-up and best-paid job I've ever had in my life, but it's STRESSFUL and I kind of hate it.

March 2001: I'm in my second semester of my second year at University, and I'm living in a small town in East Kilbride (Scotland) with my Asshat Ex. University is going well, but it's about to implode when I get into third year and find myself on the wrong side of a misogynistic post-grad tutor with a real God complex. Asshole.

March 1991: I'm 14 years old and in High School. I am a massive New Kids On The Block fan and right now I'm probably holding onto a concert ticket to see them in the Glasgow SECC. Mr Mylchreest, my History teacher, will eventually convince me that it's OK not to hold the damn thing in my grubby palm all day, every day and will give me a plastic wallet to put it in. I will think to myself that my life cannot possibly ever get any better than this as I sit in the nosebleeds watching tiny stick figures dancing, with my friends screaming in my ears and passing out around me at that gig.

March 1981: I am nearly four years old, and inexplicably I have very blonde bouncy ringlets. I am covered in bruises and band-aids from my determined attempts to explore everywhere/jump off of everything/go look at whatever that interesting thing is that people keep telling me not to go to. I'm about to start school, which I think is the most FANTASTIC acheivement of my entire life, and I frequently have to be dragged away from the stationery department of John Menzies whining that I WANT A PROTRACTOR. I have also embarrassed the hell out of my mother by having her stopped by a security guard and asked to tip out the contents of my pockets. It becomes clear that my career as a master criminal is prematurely at an end when I am found to be concealing several Creme Eggs, which I do not like to eat. My response to my mother's fearful enquiries as to WHYYYYYYY are apparently met with the immortal statement of fact: "they were shiny". I will later use this justification for pretty much everything.

It's funny seeing it in ten year snippets. Between March 2001 and March 2011 I got a degree, lost a parent, broke up with a partner, started (and kind of ended, OMG) a bellydance career, went to Egypt 5 times, found a new love, and moved halfway across the world. These last ten years have been pretty amazing, when you think about it...

Current Mood: curious

I decided to give myself a weekend off from the 'quake coverage, because it was becoming all-consuming and I think was contributing in large part to my weird emotional state last week. It didn't really work, because I've dipped in and out of the news all weekend - but at least I didn't sit there glued to it, and I think I've given myself a much-needed bit of emotional space.

I built a barbecue that we bought on sale on Monday. We don't have a gas bottle for it yet, so it's sitting in the garage all newly-made, pristinely clean and virginal, waiting for that first sausage/burger/delicious butter-slavered foil-wrapped corn cob. All the while we was building it, Himself and I were congratulating ourselves on the fact that we now finally have an Emergency Cooking System in the event of a natural disaster. Way to keep It our of your mind, there, Wiggle!

Himself and I started painting the guest bedroom, in preparation for

suzycat 's inaugural visit. It'll also be used later by Whizmum and Roo towards Christmastime, and I've been slowly buying in nice things to make it a lovely room to stay in. Like the rest of the house, the room has the "coloured feature wall" scheme of decorating, which to be honest I'm not a fan of. However, I'll stick with it - but I'm not sticking with the horrible mid-to-deep blue in the guest room, and instead have opted for a soothing soft green. Bringing the painting forward did two things - made me feel like I was doing something for

suzycat , in a weird and mostly impotent and irrelevant kind of way, and gave me a great deal of kind of zen type peaceful enjoyment. I always loved painting and decorating my spaces, and it's been two years since I was able to. I'll probably get in trouble with the Letting Agent for changing the property without permission, but I REALLY don't care at this point.

I gave myself Saturday and Sunday morning off from talking about work. Or thinking about work. That didn't really work either, because I did talk about it and think about it a bit. I mostly spent Saturday Skyping with Whizmum and chatting online with a good friend, and naturally the work thing came up. *sigh* I've decided that I need to let go of being concerned that my team might be edgy and nervous about having a new manager, and not take responsibility for that. I need to just be myself, go through my normal decision-making process and stand my ground. Some of my decisions may be wrong and/or unpopular, but that's mine to bear. The only way they can get rid of me is to put a complaint in to my boss, and as long as I stick my usual decision-making and thinking processes, they won't have a leg to stand on if they do that.

I also bought more booze and chocolate, and have consumed some more quantities of both. WHAT?!

Current Mood: determined
Current Location: New Zealand

Hoggle was spotted in the garden last night!

Well... a hodgepig was spotted in the garden last night. I'm not 100% sure it was Hoggle, because I'm pretty sure it was a bit smaller than Hoggle was last time I spied him. Himself tried making all sorts of excuses about "Maybe he's just lost weight because we haven't been putting out meat scraps and bacon grease for him, hmmmm?" - but I'm not so sure.

In any case, I walked out into the garden at dusk and saw a little face beadily eyeballing me from the bushes. I froze, and the starer wandered out of the bushes toward me, and then dived right back in further down the garden. I think I understand why hedgehogs are spiky for defence - because they certainly aren't stealthy little creatures as they crash through the undergrowth! o_O

To sum up - YAY!

Current Mood: cheerful

I fear I may have a horrible tragedy on my hands.

A horrible, heatbreaking, unnoticed little suburban tragedy.

I think Hoggle (our hedgehog) may be no more.

T_T

Yesterday morning I was driving to work. I got out of the driveway, turned the corner that our house sits on, drove probaby about a hundred yards down the road - and there was a poor dead little hedgehog lying on the road.

I don't deal well with dead things on the road. Or the stupid little birdies who seem to like playing kamikaze with the cars in the street and flit towards the windscreen and freak me the fucking hell out. Seeing that poor little hedgehog body on the road had me gasping for breath and trying not to burst out sobbing for pretty much the rest of the journey to work.

I KNOW. I KNOW. It is a HEDGEHOG. Nature red in tooth and claw and rubber tyre and all that, I know. And they are Bad For Noo Zillund Native Wildlife, I KNOW. Posting all DRAMAZ AND WOE about it is a bit like posting on Bhuz, all PRAYERS FOR MY HEDGEHOG PLZ and I sound like a basket case, Crazy Hedgehog Lady. But he's *my* hedgehog and I am very fond of watching him snuffle around in the garden, waddling his fat little butt around in the dark where he thinks no-one can see him.

Last night and tonight I put out some noms on the hope of seeing him, and reassuring myself that the poor ex-hedgehog was not my Hoggle.

He has not appeared, although Himself was quite sure that some of the leftover French toast we put out last night had been nibbled this morning. There's BACON out there right now, and he has still not appeared.

I fear the worst, and I think my heart has broken a little.

Current Mood: worried

Happy New Year, flisties!

It's funny not being in Scotland, where literally almost ALL you hear for the first week (and often more) is eternally prefaced with Happy New Year. You simply MUST ensure that the very first thing you say to someone you haven't seen since prior to Jan 1st is a hearty "Happy New Year"! (usually accompanied by a handshake/hug, even between the most casual of friends) It's almost... a religious thing. Certainly very social and VERY much a faux-pas if you neglect/miss that opportunity.

Anyway! I don't do New Year's Resolutions. Not REALLY. I mark the time in years, much like everyone else - but my capacity for keeping track of time is MARKEDLY worse than it used to be. I lose track of time so easily lately, and am always stunned when people say something happened x years ago, because it always feels like it was just a little while back. A friend I class as "new" reminded me the other day that we met 5 years ago. It's two years since I left Scotland and last saw my friends and family there - that fact alone is kind of stunning.

Anyway, years are the major passage of time for me - and like everyone, I get reflective around New Year thinking of how I'd like the new one to go, as well as how many interesting and unforeseen things have happened in the last one. But I never make resolutions much like I've stopped planning and controlling in the last six years - I'm a lot more zen and go-with-the-flow than I was prior to 2003/4.

But, in the spirit of listing things and hoping for things in the year to come, here's my vague outline for my general hopes and dreamy dreams for 2011:

Success and happiness in my new job, starting in A FORTNIGHT, OMG.
For Himself and I to be able to relax and de-stress and enjoy our time together thanks to finally earning two incomes
For a year of renewed adventure and discovery in this beautiful country
To see my mum again before the year is out
To recapture my dance mojo, and start building a community here
Continued health and happiness for my friends and family wherever they may be
Improving my own health and wellbeing, but shedding the weight and increasing my activity levels

Teh End. I'm not setting goals about how much weight or by when or whatever. I'm not punishing myself by not acheiving a goal QUICKLY enough, or for not pushing HARD enough, or whatever. These are just general, overarching goals and the most important thing - as always - is the health and happiness of myself and Himself and those who matter to us. If we need to take a different direction to acheive that that we can't see right now, we'll take it and adjust in our ambling rivery kind of fluid way.

I never thought I'd be good with that kind of vagueness in my life. ^_^ Funny how things change.

In Other News - the challenge is set over at

dbl_dream_hands . IT'S ON!

Current Mood: content
Current Location: New Zealand

Remember when I bought those DVD's because I was TOTALLY going to integrate them into dance practise for both technique/stamina regain and exercise? Yeah, I haven't been doing any of that.

And remember when I realised that practise dancing beladi was more gratifying that trying to noodle to random music? I haven't been doing any of that either. In fact, I haven't been doing much of anything the last couple of weeks.

Hey, and know how I was waffling some shit about not using my core properly and what a revelation it was that I might want to, you know, DO THAT?! Well!

I put on some random, mindless Arabic pop this morning (Amr Diab Habibi Walah ala Baloh - CHEESETASTIC WESTERNISED DANCE REMIX AHOY!)
and I pottered about absent-mindedly dancing to it. I suddenly realised that I WAS CHEATING. I was doing allllllll shimmy overlays. Because it was EASIER. Not in the sense of shimmy overlays are EASY, because it takes us all ages to get those. BUT! Doing a figure eight as a shimmy overlay let me cheat and focus on the shimmy. I was NOT working the core properly.

So I switched to ordinary, bog standard eights and camels - and focussed all my energy on making them gooshy and juicy and muscular.

FWOOSH - happy exercisey endorphins! OHAI, U SEEM 2B WORKIN' OUT! LET US REWARD YOU!

O_O

How much of my dance dissatisfaction is because I HAVE BEEN CHEAT NOODLING BELLYLITE rather than OMG DANCE CAREER IS OOOOOOOOVERRRRRRRRR?!

Current Mood: surprised
Current Location: New Zealand

Potentially little-known fact among flisties: back in the dawn of time, before BD hit me like a freight train, I was an R.E.M. fan.

In fact, I went to this show, in the lovely grounds of Stirling Castle, back home in bonnie Scotland in... shit, sometime between 1999 and 2002. DAYUM, apparently according to one of the other YouTube videos it was 2004. It feels like much, MUCH longer ago.

My particular happy moment was when I found this one - because just before this video starts there was this fantastic collective moment, when Michael Stipe had pointed away from the stage towards the final disappearing rays of the setting sun, and the entire audience turned to follow his gaze, and there was this huge collective sigh. And he made some comment about how we'd all had a nice little moment together, before launching into MY FAVOURITE SONG. It was INCREDIBLE and it stuck with me ever since - it was my first moment of tarab, only I didn't know what to call it yet. You can kind of feel it with the rush of audience noise when the song begins, that's what kind of broke our collective spell.

The really interesting thing watching these videos back again is that I REALLY didn't realise the crowd was this big. I'm somewhere up front stage right. I was front centre stage until the very first song opened (Lotus) and the crowd started jumping and surging and I, as a short person, was lifted clean off my feet and just moved around like a little piece of flotsam in a big scary sea. I was hauled out by my big plush Mr Bump backpack straps by security before the song was even halfway through.

Anyway, our moment of tarab just before this is so hard to explain. This whole tour was one of smaller "intimate" venues, as chosen by the band. This one sold out in a RIDICULOUS tiny increment of time, and they could have sold out a bigger venue easily (I'd been to the previous Monster tour at the fecking massive sports arena in Edinburgh, where I was up the back in the nosebleeds and the people on stage were tiny vaguely beige matchstick men. In this one, I was close enough to see recognisable people. I could see that stripe of orange eyeshadow/pigment across Michael Stipe's brow. I could tell Mike Mills' shirt was VELOUR, baby. Or crushed velvet, whichever, it suited him. I could see facial expressions, and see the smile he has with the audience interplay at 1:02 and 2:02. It was SPECTACULAR. You can see the effect in this later one:

See how the crowd are just INSANE?! The energy is through the damn roof - and see how we're all mirroring his hand gestures as we sing back to him? And how much he's loving it? Awesome. I even feel it again right now watching it (maybe you're all just thinking: "yeah, a crowd waving it's arms around. UNHEARD OF.") Maybe you had to be there.

Some time later, I would meet people who'd been at that show, and you'd say to each other: "Shit, WERE you? I didn't see you!" As if there was only a handful of people there. AND LOOK AT IT. It's huge. No wonder you didn't see your random mate there! And yet - that was the feel of it - the intimate, powerful feel that it was just you in your bubble at that moment, watching something incredibly special that left a mark on you. I can't explain for the life of me why, other than to say the band are FANTASTIC live and composed of seriously EXCELLENT and engaging public performers.

I've thought of this show and in particular it's weird "Were you there?! I didn't see you!" vaccuum effect many times since in my dance career - particularly when you come across people who were in one of your audiences and seem offended when you don't remember. It's a sea of faces when you're out there performing, but if you're lucky it can be a unique and powerful and special moment for you all. Chasing that moment of tarab is what keeps pulling me back to our dance, even though it's absence is a bit of a hole in my heart at the moment.

I've been a bit maudlin and.. strange today after going through some other R.E.M. tracks - my time as an R.E.M. fan was closely tied to my relationship with The Asshat Ex. I even had a sudden burst of awful, gasping tears at one song (totally unrelated, no reason whatsoever other than lyrical content) which suddenly brought back the rush of desperate grief that I initially had during the break up and particularly the horrible night I knew he was having his first liaison with his new GF (don't ask me how I knew it was happening THAT NIGHT. Email stalkage. I DID IT. I'm not proud of it).

It's funny how music takes you places - raw, emotional places. Maybe even places that, like me, you thought didn't exist any more. And can leave you feeling in a very different state than you were when you started listening. It's powerful fire that we dancers and performers play with - the music in it's own right, the emotions of the audience, the whole vibe of the performance space.

Uh.... no real point to this entry other than yet moar navel gazing. I have no concusion other than: Hm. Now I feel weird. Take that as you will!

Current Mood: weird
Current Location: New Zealand

If you haven't read

replyhazy 's earlier post on the topic some time ago, I suggest you do to get yourself up to speed.

And then you can rate my submission for Terrifying Choreography Of The Day, with a slight Indian/Middle Eastern/Other Exotic That I Just Made Up feel about it as befits our particular realm of dance interest:

If you find this distrubing (because SHIT, I DO), please to be directing all blame to

replyhazy , because SHE TOTALLY STARTED IT.

Current Mood: amused
Current Location: New Zealand

I totally forgot to mention in yesterdays Rare Moments Of Gratitude post that I've recently received two emails from people enquiring about bellydance classes in Invercargill. One person found me from Bhuz, so presumably the Teachers Listings DO work and are searchable and everything! Yay!

The other person, I have NO IDEA where they found me from. I'm assuming possibly from the Attar teachers list? Anyway, the first person is Invercargill-born, currently in the UK, visiting in the New Year and hoping to fit in a class or two. The other person is based in a little township close by here and is interested in a weekly class, which I currently do not have. But it's all very interesting. I wasn't planning on marketing or advertising classes until I'd got myself more sorted out (including dropping a few kilos, because BLERG), but... hm. Perhaps It Is Time. *listens to Teh Fates*

blahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblahblah

( Clicky through for some Random Product Reviews! Sponsored by WAFFLE! )

This has been Your Wigglewhiz Guide To Random Things. Next time: stuff I found at the supermarket! Weird fruit pastes for cheese - genuinely tasty addition or wanky food snobbery gone awry? New smelling orange dishwasher powder - IS IT ORANGEY ENOUGH?

Or... not. ;o)

Current Mood: cheerful
Current Location: New Zealand

Dear Flisties,

I love you all. You are awesome, fabulous, humorous, and really rather sexee individuals and I am so pleased to call you friends. Even in that weird, internet virtual life kind of way. Your well wishes have meant the world to me, and your effusive congratulations yesterday made my little soul sing even louder than the Crazy Birdie which wakes me up at 5am with his weird chattery sing-song right outside my bedroom window EVERY SINGLE MORNING.

*ahem*

I love reading about your lives on your journals, even when you're going through some poop and I find myself inarticulate and unable to do anything other than write "THAT IS POOP AND SUCKS BUT I LOVES YOU" and hope that you're not weirded out by that. (SRSLY, Flisties, I am sorry for my over-friendliness if it has spooged itself on you. I am like that IRL and if we meet one day I will probably squee and force myself on you in a total display of shameless socially awkward hugging).

In short, you've made my good news even better, and that's just unbelievably superb.

With lots of love and HUGS and fluffy bunnies,

Wiggle
XXX

wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

( ... )

Current Mood: optimistic
Current Location: New Zealand

... because I am waiting nervously for my breakfast egg to boil, and then I have the mammoth task of hair straightening and getting ready and I kind of feel sick allready.

I am SO GLAD that Adam won Masterchef Australia last night. Personally (as with probably everyone else who was watching) I was MARION FTW all the way since basically the first show, and was GUTTED when she went out. My next fave pick was Aaron, and them BAM! He was out too.

And then I mostly just concentrated all my hate on Jonathan until he was - FINALLY, GAH - booted out.

Poor wee Adam was so intense in last night's epic episode - you could really see HOW MUCH it meant to him. I freely admit to crying when he was breaking down and describing how he usually came second, and how he wanted this with "everything I've got". Through the blubbering, I was all: "ADAM! I'M ROOTING FOR YOU, MATE!" and then I remembered that "rooting" means something else ENTIRELY here and stopped talking to the TV like a crazy lady.

Wee Callum is such a gawky, awkward sweet little guy, I felt kind of bad for rooting (snerk) for Adam against him, but I just felt Adam deserved it more - he's so inventive and has a clear, unique style. And besides, Callum is SO YOUNG and has plenty of chefery training potential ahead of him, so he doesn't need the title as much. He still did AMAZINGLY well, particularly in the invention test where he really obviously pulled out all the stops.

Can I also mention? Guava and Custard Apple Snow Egg. I WANT TO EAT THAT SOOOOOOOOO MUCH. Guava fool, layered with Guava granita with custard apple ice cream encased in a beautiful merangue sphere, surrounded in a crunch praline shell. FUCK YEAH!

I'm slightly concerned that I found judge Gary Mehigan really attractive. I KNOW. He... looks a little like Asshat Ex, which is worryng. O_O Still, looks a LITTLE like, but is a completely different persona - it's the foodieness and the wit and slightly more sophisticated edge that's attractive. That's what I'm telling myself anyway.

Right. Enough Masterchef waffle. I am off to eat breakfast, and get ready for informal chatting about jobs that I WAAAAAAAAAAANT. Thank you luvverly flisties for all your support! ^_^ You warm the cockles of my evil black heart. I shall let you know how it goes.

Current Mood: nervous
Current Location: New Zealand

Today's been a weird day. Yesterday was... well, stressful. Today's been weird.

( Cue self-indulgent waffle of randomness! )

And now the actually relevant newsy news after all that pointless ramble - I got a call from Company S. They want me to come back to the office tomorrow at noon for a "half hour informal chat about the position" with the COO and the Chief Medical Officer, who is new (very new... like arrived from overseas this week new) to the post, and to whom I would be reporting should I get the job.

I'm thinking this sounds really positive! I mean, it's not IN TEH BAG or anything, but I imagine they can't be having more than 2 or 3 people coming in for informal chats to meet this guy, and presumably he'll have the final say. Kind of a personality contest, i.e. Does He Think He Can Work With These Applicants? JOB IDOL: THE FINALE. I am crossing my fingers and toes and eyes and EVERYTHING and really hoping that I can turn this into a job offer. Wish me luck - I really, really need a fucking break right about now.

Current Mood: hopeful
Current Location: New Zealand

I am a Batman fan.

As in, pretty much all forms of Batman, except for George Clooney. I'm not big into Christian Bale (squicks me out and makes me think of Tom Cruise, for some reason), but those Batman versions were enjoyable enough. Michael Keaton, though, for ME personally, had just the right edge of "very nearly psychotic" that I think Batman needs to have.

Anyway! Saturday mornings here chez Whiz involve watching the cartoon series Batman: The Brave And The Bold from my big snuggly bed. It's not my FAVOURITE Batman cartoonification evar, but it's watchable. This morning, however? It set me a-ranting at an ungodly hour of a non-working weekend morning.

It was one of those goddamned CROSSOVER episodes. Batman somehow crosses paths with some other DC comics superhero, and lessons are learned and experiences shared and BLAH BLAH FUCKING BLAH. I'm watching for BATMAN. I don't care about bloody Superman or Spider-Man (who was always just too irritatingly ANGSTY and WHINY for my taste). Anyhoo, in this cross over, Batman and PLASTICMAN (gah) meet up with... UNCLE SAM AND THE FREEDOM FIGHTERS.

Gah.

Included in the Freedom Fighters?! DOLL MAN! THE HUMAN BOMB! PHANTOM LADY!

Dudes. AWESOME Superhero names. Can I be slightly sidetracked by how The Human Bomb is probably totally non-PC in our modern terrorist-laden times? I mean, I guess it's OK, because THIS Human Bomb fights FOR UNCLE SAM. Therefore it's good. It's stars-and-stripes-explodingly-all-over-your-screen good. ***W00t! Wave tiny American flags!***

But anyway, at this point I'm assuming (I like Batman, but I'm not up on EVERY ASPECT of the franchise) that this is rather an old series, and as such it's kind of awkwardly charming in it's anarchic non-pc ind of set up. Speaking of non-pc, did you check out Phantom Lady's AMAZING superpower?! You'll totally never guess - SHE TURNS INVISIBLE. I know, right?! AWESOMENESS!

What male comic book writer/reader DOESN'T want a hawt sexy mama who can just be vanished into thin air when she gets cranky/naggy/otherwise bored of? How many other goddamned invisible women are there in comics and sci-fi? Should we be receiving a message here, girls? Not so much seen and not heard - seen when we want to view your hawt short shorts, and then get me a sammich or vanish into thin air, kthnxbai. *eyeroll*.

Know of any Invisible MEN (aside from, you know, the obvious one) flisties? No? I can't think of any. Is that possibly because as a story it would be horrifically boring, because all said Invisible Man would do would be lurk around in ladies locker rooms working on developing one enormous Hulk arm? And thereby possibly causing a GLOBAL KLEENEX SHORTAGE, OMFG THINK OF THE CHILDRENNNNNN!?!

Huh.

Anyway, at the end of the episode, PlasticMan, who saves the day by discovering his patriotism (which, incidentally, we are encouraged to learn COMES FROM TEH HEART, rather than from learning dates and places and names. No, kids! GOD FORBID you should learn about significant events in your country's history lest you develop a political view OF YOUR OWN! Just sing Yankee Doodle Dandy! It doesn't even matter if you don't know the words. Uncle Sam will save the world for you if you JUST BELIEVE!!1!) - and he gets thanked by someone very special, the Man In Charge Himself, the President of the USA get out here you goombah... BARACK FUCKING OBAMA.

WHUT?! This.. this is a NEW cartoon?! This blatantly flag-waving, completely undisguised propaganda machine? With Uncle Sam talking about fighting THE RED ALIEN MENACE?! Really?! Well, HOLY SHIT. We seem to have slipped back into 1940-something where we were teaching the kids to hate the Germans.

See the episode (illegally!) in three parts on YouTube - or just watch the last one for the Obama cameo right at the end.

Current Mood: shocked
Current Location: New Zealand

Have a squizz at this advertisement, which appears with IRRITATING regularity on my television.

REALLY?!

First off, I absolutely, just cannot fucking STAND the start of the song Shout. I cannot abide it. Poor old Lulu screeching "WEEE-EEEE-EEE-EEE-EEEEE-EEEEEEEEL" immediately has the effect of making my scalp retreat (which happens when I'm REALLY, REALLY ANGRY - I think it's some kind of evolutionary mechanism like when a cat flattens it's ears), sets my teeth on edge, and has me reaching for the remote to furiously jab the "mute" button or to change channels.

What IS it with goddamned feminine hygeine adverts where they have to be so fucking NOISY and VISIBLE? Did you think this symbolised "fun!", Marketing Team? Because what it really symbolises is "FUCKWITS". Or "INCANDESCENT RAGE". Or straightforward GET THIS SHIT OFF MY TELLY RIGHT NAOW.

I'm not sure these ever played outside the UK, but remember the Bodyform advert? Where the fucking rawk chick (FUN! You too can be a rawking rawk chick! Even when your uterine lining is sloughing off!) yelled WHOAAAAAAAAAH BODYFO-ORM! BODYFORMED FOR YOOOOOOOOU!!!? That advert used to drive both me and my mother absolutely INSANE. My mum would yell "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH, BAHDYFAHRM!" like an enraged muppet, which was quite entertaining in a "must lighten mood before we smash the fucking television" kind of way.

You know, Marketing Team, the thing is - we women kinda know about that whole menstruation thing. We know how it works. We know the kind of products we might buy. And while we might appreciate the dollars you're putting into making these product better for us, we kind of DON'T want you SCREAMING about them in our living rooms, 'kay? It's bad enough we have to put up with the PMS and the cramps and the INCOVENIENCE of the whole thing when it happens, but to have you SCREECHING your upbeat adverts in our homes in what little non-PMS time we have, all "PERIODS! YAAAAAAAY! LOOK, WE MADE TAMPONS WITH LITTLE SHEETS ON LIKE LITTLE GHOSTS! FUN FUN FUUUUUNNNN!" makes us want to fucking rip our scalps off and firebomb your offices. This is perhaps not a successful marketing strategy, is what I'm saying. (Also, that if I need my tampons to have little wingy sheets on them to fill out some kind of VACUOUS CAVERN and catch resulting extraneous free-falling fluid, MAYBE I HAVE A WORSE PROBLEM THAN JUST MENSTRUATION.)

And seriously, Libra (back to the advert currently filling me with rage) - are you REALLY trying to tell me that your screamingly amazing new tampon developments are so great that I'll join the FLOCKS of women screaming with Boyband-worthy glee in the tampon aisle of my local supermarket? That I will DROP MY EGGS (and seriously, is there a hidden message there? Is that a euphemism or what?!), or clutch my long flowing hair and scream scream scream, or PASS OUT ALL CROSS-EYED WITH EUPHORIA?

Dudes. "Rounded tip". Well, HOLY SHIT. It's not like any other brands of tampons have been doing that for, like, EVER.

KNOTTED STRING. Oh dear god above, that is THE BEST THING I HAVE EVER HEARD OF! Revolutionary! What did we EVER do before this?! I WAS USING A SHOEHORN. *eyeroll*

Twist wrap! Well! That's maybe the ONLY vaguely innovative thing that you have here, Libra. It's marginally less annoying than the cigarette-wrapper-style pull tab. But it's HARDLY worth screaming and passing out over.

You DO make me want to shout, Libra. And what you make me want to shout is: "FUCK OFF!!1!"

Current Mood: enraged
Current Location: New Zealand

I *think* - and I hope, oh dear god do I hope - that the works outside my house are coming to an end. The road seems to have been topped up to it's final level, a larger, heavy top coating of gravel is down, and has been compacted and rolled flat (which HOLY FUCK, is such a noisy process, and the vibrations through the house border on glass-breaking). The final step has GOT to be replacing the tar seal, and then I CAN HAVE MY LIFE BACK. Also my driveway and a place to park my car off the street. Yay!

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I've been chucking out our stale bread into the back garden for the birdies, because I decided those goddamned ducks in the park were getting WAY too much in the way of the stale bread reserves of this town. I shall break their monopoly, even at the risk of being visited by Duckbutt mafiosi threatening me with concrete boots.

My back garden seems to have been claimed by a young blackbird, and he's taken to hopping out of the bushes and STARING at me whenever I head into the garden. Like: "Hey monkey! Where's the bread? Whatcha doing in my garden with no bread?!" It's very entertaining.

However, in Extra Specialness last night, Himself was about to head out into the garden (to get to the garage, where our tumble dryer is to retreive his work shirts), when he started hissing at me to come out. There, mooching around in the grass hoovering up the bits of bread the birds hadn't got to, was "our" hedgehog. We saw him for the first time a few weeks ago, shuffling out of the mulching/composting spot at the back of the garage and into the courtyard. I've been PARANOID about checking under the car ever since, and hadn't seen him. So it was great to see him, alive and well and unsquashed, wandering around the garden in his little hodgepiggy way. Himself and I sat at the back door, lights off, whispering to each other as we watched him wander.

I've named him Hoggle. After the character in The Labyrinth, of course.

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After my kvetching about OMG SMALL TOWN NEPOTISM yesterday (was it yesterday? TIME HAZ NO MEANING), I just got a call from the recruitment advisor at Company S, inviting me to an interview next Thursday.

w00t!

She's sending me a map of the place (it's a Hospital, so... yeah, it's HOOGE), a confirmaton of date/time and the names of who will be on the interview panel. (Panel = BOO. I'll hope for a panel of two, because that's been my most recent experience and is manageable. More than two is a bit intimidating. :os )

So, that brings us to:

Job Applications: 12 (including two Recruitment Agency applications, which should probably be counted under some other category)
Interviews: 5
Job Offers: 0

Current Mood: cheerful
Current Location: New Zealand

I just watched an episode of a children's cartoon (the serialised version of The Barnyard. Yes, this is what I'm reduced to). Otis (the cow) had to wrangle the sheep back to the farm, and did so by saying he would do ANYTHING. Cue him wearing some bizarre headpiece and complaining that he'd laid on a traditional New Zealand banquet and was wearing this STUPID outfit (which.. looked NOTHING like traditional Maori dress, so I don't know what the hell it was supposed to be), and the sheep insisting for their final act of attrition that he had to do some "traditional Kiwi folk dance". Which he then did (apparently), jigging around ungainly to the sounds of... DIDGERIDOO. Way to go there, Hollywood.

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In other sociomological insightification news, I just about peed my pants with excitement the other day at a news article on TV about the upcoming Royal Wedding. NOT because I'm excited about the Royal Wedding or anything (I am a Scot, after all)... but because they were talking about how Queen Lizzie was a formidable woman (agreed, even though I don't feel particularly... you know, patriotic or dynastic or... whatever) and how What's Her Name (Waity Katey) had a lot to learn from her. This was illustrated with clips of HRH and poor old Prince Open-Mouth-Insert-Both-Feet on their recent visit to Abu Dhabi.

Obligatory snide comments were made by the newsreader about the "folk" dances used to greet HRH - which was a long line of men in thobes and keffiyah dancing in a line with canes (thin canes, complete with shepherd crook IIRC. Definitely NOT tahtib style manly man sticks). I think I've generally always seen khaleegy male line dancing with swords, so that was interesting. The news commentary wasn't MASSIVELY rude, just that really typical "Oh, foreigners are SO FUNNY, aren't they, with their funny little ways! How lovely!" kind of condescention that pisses me off so much (and that I associate with the BBC). I can't remember exactly what was said, but it was along the lines of "There's no end of strange receptions to get through - such as this one in Abu Dhabi, featuring men tapping canes and girls swishing their hair" - and BINGO! Brief (oh so brief) snippet of pretty dark-haired girl in a yellow/orange khaleegy thobe rather sedately swishing said long dark hair. Honestly, the footage of her must have been about THREE SECONDS LONG.

NEWSFLASH - I found it I found it I found it! http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-11835776

Oh. It's not women, it's little girls. I was really interested when I saw the footage, because I was THRILLED to see raqs nasha'at being used to greet a foreign dignitary. Because that must mean it's VALUED, right?! Now I'm feeling... well, a little bit more deflated that it was little girls and not EVIL SEXEE WIMMEN. *sigh* Well, at least it was there.

I also found this little gem, showing some photos from Princess Alice's 1938 visit to Saudi Arabia. http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-middle-east-11505153 Sadly, no women in the photographs other than the Princess herself - I was looking for evidence of Farida Fahmy's assertion that conservatism in the Middle East is cyclical - mind you, Farida WAS talking about the post-WW2 period, so perhaps I'll have to look there. (And maybe in Egypt rather than in more traditional areas like the Gulf.)

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It's been another hot muggy day down here, and I've had another headache. Two days of weather-system pressure headaches in a row is not so much fun. I proably should have gone outside, got some sunshiney feel-good vibes, but I've been feeling so bleh about everything that I couldn't drag up the energy.

I had to put the heat pump on (set to COOL, obviously), and was horrified to discover a SPIDER living inside it. Poor thing seemed a bit baffled by what was going on.

Tired. Bleh. This was supposed to be Day One of being back on the wagon and getting on with getting some weight off, but. Tired. Bleh. Energy. Not there.

No news from the job I applied for last week yet - it only closed on Friday, but... yeah. Feels a bit bleak, but I shall endeavour to hope. My mother has re-named me Percy Verance, because that's just what I have to have right now! (Oh, and in silly name news, I have decided not to take a dance name. It's just Not Me.)

Current Mood: apathetic
Current Location: New Zealand

Last night, my fantastic avoidance strategy didn't really work. I am truly, truly a HORRIBLE person when I'm angry - venomous, spiteful, and will gladly take pleasure in saying something wicked and cruel just to hurt your feelings because *I* am angry. Aaaaaaand, of course, then feeeling like a complete douchebag when I've calmed down. It's horrible to hurt the people you love, and it does enduring little bits of damage to your relationships that you just cannot erase with your most sincere apologies.

Anyway, whenever I get angry I now just avoid people. Just go somewhere else, calm down, come back later - rather than risk saying something in the heat of the moment. Unfortunartely, Himself doesn't understand my strategy, and instead is baffled and hurt by my complete withdrawal, and just assumes that I'm angry with him and that he needs to do something about it. Which... just makes me ANGRIER because he won't leave me alone, and then he breaks down and I still feel like SHIT even though I still haven't said anything.

I need to find another strategy.

Anyway, everything is fine this morning, we sorted everything out last night once I'd seen sense and calmed the fuck down. Today, being a hot and sunny day, we decided to take a jaunt to the beach to give ourselves a nice little day out since our last attempt FAILED. Unsurprisingly, being a curvy chick, my main reward/compensatory mechanism is FOOD. Not exactly a wise strategy when you're a little annoyed at being quite so curvy, but hey. I enjoy it. I firmly believe I can continue to enjoy it - in moderation. (I shan't be taking any crazy Bhuz sockpuppet bitches advice, let's just say that.)

Anyway, on the drive out we stopped at a place called Bella Kai, which is a fancy new store selling fancy-schmantzy foodstuffs. It. Was. HEAVEN.

What I Bought:

A roasted garlic balsalmic vinegar sauce. Which OMFG is the BEST thing I've ever tasted.
Harissa paste - AT LAST! A Southland source! I can make Moroccan chicken again. w00T!
Hazelnuts roasted in Chilli and Garlic oil (TASTY, but a little spicier than I expected!)
Fancy artisan Rocky Road chocolate - white chocolate with pistachios, semi-dried cherries, coconut, marshmallow and merangue
A mahoosive bag of coarse bulghur wheat for taboulli-making

What I Didn't Buy YET Buy I Am Totally Going Back For:

A lime infused oil that tasted absolutely INCREDIBLE. It was rice bran oil, too, which I don't usually like.
Pomegranate syrup
Orange blossom water
Dukkah (only because I'd had some the other night, so I didn't feel compelled)
Hazelnut Butter
Assorted fancy cheeses. I only tasted the feta, which, HOLY HELL, was proper tasty. (sidenote: can't be doing with that COW milk feta or SHEEP milk feta. GOAT CHEESE, PEOPLE! GOAT!!1!)

Things That I Have No Intention Of Buying, But I Wish I Was The Sort Of Person Who Wasn't Shocked By:

A tiny bottle of Modena balsalmic vinegar for $90, OMFG.

Current Mood: full
Current Location: New Zealand

For the last few months in particular, I have been having some CRAZY ASS DREAMS. Like.... completely random jumbled images and insane stories. I always have weird dreams, but these ones have been extra weird thanks to the stress and anxiety of job/financial worries etc. I thought I would share this with you, since it's dance-related and features some flisties.

( My dream, IN WHICH RANDA GETS NEKKID )

Current Mood: tired
Current Location: New Zealand

Things I Have Done Since Friday:

Bought 4 DVD's despite not having any money. (THEY WERE TOTALLY ON SALE)
Walked around in the park
- Resisted feeding the ducks because DAMN, is that WHOLE FUCKING LOAF floating in the pond?
- Been bitten by mozzies, OMG *scritch scritch scritch* *BLEEDS* *SCRITCHSCRITCHSCRITCH*
Walked into town
- FINALLY tasted a Memphis Meltdown Rocky Road ice cream. It was not as good as the Big Hokey. (sigh)
- Bought NOTECARDS so that I can act like an American (it's apparently de rigeur for our American friends?) and write a goddamned thank-you note to my interviewers on Tuesday. This does not sit well with me, but I will take ANY ADVANTAGE I CAN POSSILY GET at this point
Sat outside in the garden in the sunshine, listening to music
- Walked round to the dairy to rectify the previous day's Big Hokey disappointment. OUT OF BIG HOKEY's. Got Magnum Gold instead. IT IS NOT THE SAME.
Trawled Bhuz and Livejournal and totally stalked all my flisties. (Hi guys! I'm in ur jurnal, readin' awl ur old biznez)
Watched Halloweeny TV, including a Shrek mini-cartoon, and The Witches (OMG forgot how awesome it was, and got all wistful about how I fell in love with Angelica Houston in this movie and wanted to look like her when I was a proper grown-up because she was EVIL and SEXAY. Then discovered lots of other goth girlies and dumped the idea since it wasn't as exotic and DIFFERENTY as I thought. Boo.)
Shut my driveway gate and all my curtains and totally hid from any kiddies seeking candy, because I am a big candy-bogarding asshat.
Drew up a plan for a RIDICULOUSLY kitsch dance studio. Including blue prints for the building and what facilities it would have.
- Doodled interior design plan for said fictitious studio
- Researched BUILDERS who might be able to build said studio, because, you know, MY PLANNING STAGE, let me show you it.
- Made plans for CLASSES and RETREATS and EVENTS for said studio, including where the stage would go and how it should have ramps at the side so that dancers can glide off the stage into the crowd, and OMG I NEED A JACUZZI. Because every studio needs a jacuzzi, if you're going to WASTE TIME DAYDREAMING
- Run through my Beginner choreo, because I need something to teach in my TOTALLY NON-EXISTANT FANTASY STUDIO
- Drifted through the internet looking for CD's to buy. Because I need new musical inspiration for my dance, since clearly I don't spend enough time FANTASISING and DAYDREAMING about dance-related hoo-hah.
Posted this post.

Things I Have Not Yet Done:

PREPARED FOR TOMORROW'S INTERVIEW, OMFG!!!

* a million geek points if you name that quote

Current Mood: guilty
Current Location: New Zealand

Dear Fuckwits Outside My Fucking House,

Look, I know you've decided in your infinite wisdom that the tree that used to live outside my house was a total inconvenience and that instead it might be nice to make a parking bay outside my window. I don't understand, but I know that's your plan.

I like that you gave me warning you were going to cut it down, you know, what with the RIGHT OUTSIDE MY BEDROOM WINDOW part, and the huge noise that would be made. However, I have to say it was kind of rude when you didn't actually stick to the dates on the warning letters - I WAS hoping that someone had seen sense to keep the pretty Eucalyptus trees up and down our street, that there had been some kind of Neighbourhood Curtain Twitchers meeting that was successful totally without my participation. (That kind of reinforced the thought that the neighbours think I'm a crazy lady and wouldn't invite me to their parties/bitch sessions/Important Neighbourhood Business, but that's OK since sense was acheived.)

Except it wasn't acheived, was it? Because randomly two weeks AFTER the period in your letter you turned up with your chainsaws! YOUR FUCKING BUZZY, BUZZY CHAINSAWS that reverberated through my entire house and set my teeth on edge and really, you might have wanted to put something in your letters along the lines of: "Dude, we're coming to cut down that tree outside your house and MAN the noise is going to FUCK YOU UP. Go stay with a friend or hit the beach or hide out in the park or something so you don't go batshit".

Also? The guy who didn't realise he left the petrol cap off the chainsaw and while he was turning the damn things over in his hands to work out why it wouldn't go BKRZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ in that endearing fashion? And therefore spilt petrol in a hilarious fashion all over himself and the ground and my garden? I kind of wish he'd fucking caught fire.

So having managed to EVENTUALLY cut down the pretty tree outside my window some time ago, can I just ask what the fuck you're doing back outside my house? The noise sounds kind of like chainsaws again. Are you SERIOUSLY cutting the mutilated stump out of the ground with.. CHAINSAWS? Are you fucking crazy? And the grinding, grinding, mechanical noise that sounds like some kind of hardcore steampunk robot groans of pleasure, what IS that? Because it's AMAZINGLY permeating, it is SHAKING MY FUCKING FLOORBOARDS, and since the handyman FELL THROUGH THE FLOOR in the spare bedroom because of bore beetles eating the floorboards I'm finding it a bit disconcerting that my floor feels like some kind of giant mobile set to vibrate. It's also juuuuust on the right side of the very low pitch that Mythbusters reliably informs me drives elephants insane. While there are no elephants in the petting zoo thing beside my house, I would like to point out to you that in human terms I am quite big, so this is likely why you are driving me OUT OF MY FUCKING MIND.

Did you purposefully pick the day I finally decided to stop procratinating and get on with my interview preparation? Did you KNOW somehow? Are you in cahoots with Company E to fuck me over? DID ONE OF THE OTHER CANDIDATES PAY YOU TO DO THIS? Because it's really super effective and I reckon you could make money selling this technique to any governments that are engaged in trying to weed entranched dictators out of their bunkers - I would GLADLY listen to STEPS or even fucking BOYZONE or something at earbleedingly loud levels rather than endure any more of your gnawing, oscillating BKRZZZZZZZZZTing.

So in conclusion, whatever the fuck you're doing out there, it better be fucking worth the fact that I have ground my teeth down to tiny gritty stubs, and am having to wear earplugs IN MY OWN HOUSE, DURING THE FUCKING DAY, when I ALSO have to wear them at night because of the snoring of Himself. I only have little ears and the earplugs REALLY HURT after a while, not that you bastards care with your fucking massive teacup headphones on to protect yourselves, you bunch of worthless cuntos. I hope you're fucking happy.

Oh, and you better get your goddamned truck and your fucking road cones the hell away from my driveway before I decide to vacate the premises, because I will totally make sure I swerve and take out as many of you as possible totally by "accident". And I WILL be able to get away with it on the grounds of provocation - any jury in the land will believe me, with my crazy hair and my eye twiching and all.

Cheerfully telling you to SHUT THE FUCKING HELL UP,

Wiggle
xxx

Current Mood: pissed off
Current Location: New Zealand

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