A word from the (newly) wise ...
Do not wait until the week before the wedding of your youngest brother to try on the outfit that you carefully selected (and spent much of the husband's money on), but hadn't actually put together at any point until now, because you might just find that it doesn't work, and then not having your rings back from the jeweller yet (!!) will be the least of your problems.
You'll find yourself standing in front of a mirror looking at yourself from every angle possible wondering if you are imagining things, or the separate pieces that looked fantastic all by themselves look completely weird put together. Then, the husband will walk in, stop and say "That looks terrible" and it will appear that it's not your imagination after all, because the husband wouldn't risk life and limb coming out with that, if it didn't, in fact, actually look terrible.
And, it won't even be something that you might be able to pull off by adding something or pretending that you actually look fab, therefore convincing other people that they're the ones with the crap fashion sense, because it really does look really bad.
Heaven knows also how you will remedy the situation with but a week until the wedding either, when every shop in Auckland is on sale and therefore minus a crapload of stock until the winter stuff comes in (and hello, winter stuff isn't exactly what you need for a February wedding in the midst of what appears to be a heat wave), but you will have to work it out in short order. Not to mention that you bought a green clutch to go with your green skirt and there's every chance that you certainly won't be wearing a green skirt any more (although YAY! for you still fitting a skirt that you had made for a wedding three years ago!!)
This folks, is what we call a big ass problem.
Wednesday 30 January 2008
Tuesday 29 January 2008
Bloggy crapness
It's been an abysmal effort so far this year on the blogging front.
I seem to be having increasing trouble tapping into the lighter side of life in the count down to IVF. And, although I feel a need to talk about it, my thoughts are turning inwards and staying there despite my best efforts to coax them out.
I seem to be having increasing trouble tapping into the lighter side of life in the count down to IVF. And, although I feel a need to talk about it, my thoughts are turning inwards and staying there despite my best efforts to coax them out.
Still, I'll keep working on it, if you keep checking back to see how it's going.
Friday 25 January 2008
I want a long(er) week toooooooo !!
It took me 20 minutes, door to door, to get to work this morning.
It was absolutely lovely, of course, but it does mean that a power of people are having a 4 day weekend this weekend, so I feel completely deprived. I've never been good with missing out. Luckily, everyone else in my office is completely deprived as well, so it restores the balance a little.
Plus, getting in early means I have some time up my sleeve to negotiate new mortgage rates with my personal banker. So, if my hair has turned white the next time you see me, it's because I'm about to refix my mortgage at about 2% more than the current interest rate.
Ye gads.
Have a loverly long weekend pals of mine.
It was absolutely lovely, of course, but it does mean that a power of people are having a 4 day weekend this weekend, so I feel completely deprived. I've never been good with missing out. Luckily, everyone else in my office is completely deprived as well, so it restores the balance a little.
Plus, getting in early means I have some time up my sleeve to negotiate new mortgage rates with my personal banker. So, if my hair has turned white the next time you see me, it's because I'm about to refix my mortgage at about 2% more than the current interest rate.
Ye gads.
Have a loverly long weekend pals of mine.
Wednesday 23 January 2008
Hollywood cliches and taking a moment
Heath Ledger has taken his final bow, as it were, and the cynic in me (and almost everyone else) assumed straight off the bat that he'd brought the curtain down himself.
Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't. But, let's face it, it was sleeping pills, at home, in the middle of the afternoon, not a nose full of cocaine, at a club, in the middle of the night. Obviously I'll feel quite bad if it turns out it was a whoopsy combination of sleeping pills and pneumonia, but many have gone before him and you become jaded by repetition.
That aside, you can't help but take pause when it comes to the question of someone such as him taking their own life, and it gives a person the oddest feeling to recognise that joe bloggs, working hard, juggling life and family, making sacrifices, struggling trying to get through, make good and live a good life along the way could be so much happier than someone who seemingly has everything.
Sometimes, having the world at your feet isn't the answer to a happy life.
Or, as the husband so delicately put it ...
"Pfft. All that money and he's just as f*cked up as the rest of us."
Pretty much.
Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't. But, let's face it, it was sleeping pills, at home, in the middle of the afternoon, not a nose full of cocaine, at a club, in the middle of the night. Obviously I'll feel quite bad if it turns out it was a whoopsy combination of sleeping pills and pneumonia, but many have gone before him and you become jaded by repetition.
That aside, you can't help but take pause when it comes to the question of someone such as him taking their own life, and it gives a person the oddest feeling to recognise that joe bloggs, working hard, juggling life and family, making sacrifices, struggling trying to get through, make good and live a good life along the way could be so much happier than someone who seemingly has everything.
Sometimes, having the world at your feet isn't the answer to a happy life.
Or, as the husband so delicately put it ...
"Pfft. All that money and he's just as f*cked up as the rest of us."
Pretty much.
Tuesday 22 January 2008
The husband has lost a piece of paper
Which normally wouldn't be an issue. I'd raise my eyebrows at him and we'd both move on. Most things can be reproduced in one way, shape or form.
Unfortunately, the piece of paper in question this time is small, but important. Equally unfortunately, there's a good chance that it's somewhere in the depths of my ... errr ... filing system.
Unfortunately, the piece of paper in question this time is small, but important. Equally unfortunately, there's a good chance that it's somewhere in the depths of my ... errr ... filing system.
Very unfortunately, there is more than one box that looks like this.
Bollocks.
If I get to the bottom of those boxes and it turns up in his work locker, I'll kill him.
Bollocks.
If I get to the bottom of those boxes and it turns up in his work locker, I'll kill him.
Monday 21 January 2008
I'm brewing a post
It's in the creative stages, but it's one of those nice'n'heavy suckers which is taking some energy.
So, I'll entertain you in the meantime by sharing that I informed the husband tonight, quite seriously, that I am giving up shopping. Cold turkey. Except for a few special sales.
Obviously, he peed himself laughing.
Bless.
It's tempting to find some new shoes, just to teach him a lesson.
So, I'll entertain you in the meantime by sharing that I informed the husband tonight, quite seriously, that I am giving up shopping. Cold turkey. Except for a few special sales.
Obviously, he peed himself laughing.
Bless.
It's tempting to find some new shoes, just to teach him a lesson.
Thursday 17 January 2008
Flash
Joyous hand clapping is absolutely justified here.
Revolting crappy blue/black lino coming up off the floors
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Happy dance!!
Revolting crappy blue/black lino coming up off the floors
Much swearing (obviously from the husband because I never swear), scraping (whoever stuck the lino down used evil glue which, several days after lifting the lino was still abominably tacky. Had whoever stuck the lino down used non-evil glue, the glue would have dried, and the husband could have just sanded it off) and sanding later, not to mention a small fortune spent on sanding belts et cetera et cetera, the floors look beautiful.
Happy dance!!
I Am Legend the Second
Firstly, go no further if you haven't seen the movie, intend to, and have an aversion to spoilers.
Right.
I found this article (outside of work hours, of course) on CNN yesterday.
I'm glad I'm not the only one who spent much of the movie crawling up the back of my seat expecting the worst. Seriously.
Post-movie, I even had to google the dog to remind myself of the gaping chasm between reality and fiction, and the marvels of CGI and stunt work.
Right.
I found this article (outside of work hours, of course) on CNN yesterday.
I'm glad I'm not the only one who spent much of the movie crawling up the back of my seat expecting the worst. Seriously.
Post-movie, I even had to google the dog to remind myself of the gaping chasm between reality and fiction, and the marvels of CGI and stunt work.
Wednesday 16 January 2008
Explain to me how this works exactly?
My hairdresser and I had a wee disagreement the last time I had my hair cut over whether or not I, who had been growing my hair for quite some time, would be cutting it off. I was in the 'yes, I will' camp. He was in the 'over my dead body' camp.
He won. Sort of. He followed the style I wanted, leaving it several inches longer than I'd intended and pretended, in his professional opinion, that it was definitely the same (I think he thought I wouldn't notice).
But, this haircut I was determined. I was getting it chopped off. It's Summer! Summer is for chopping hair off!
So, how is it that I walked in there, told him I wanted it short, he agreed, asked me all the usual questions to do with restyling in his usual manner (as in, I feel like I'm taking a test, and he gives me that indulged look like I'm an eejit and have no idea what I'm on about (which, probably, I don't) but he's not going to tell me that at this particular moment), he sets to cutting and spends a good hour at it, and I walk out of the salon with my hair the same length it was when I walked in?
Apparently he with the scissors is determined that I am not chopping my hair off.
The husband thinks it's incredibly funny ... although he's not-so-secretly also very cheerful that he doesn't have to spend six months listening to me whinge while I grow it all back again after the chopping my hair off phase has extinguished itself in a haze of difficult to manage hair.
Maybe this is what it's all about? My hairdresser is a bloke. It's a men-uniting thing.
...
I wonder if the husband has paid him off?
He won. Sort of. He followed the style I wanted, leaving it several inches longer than I'd intended and pretended, in his professional opinion, that it was definitely the same (I think he thought I wouldn't notice).
But, this haircut I was determined. I was getting it chopped off. It's Summer! Summer is for chopping hair off!
So, how is it that I walked in there, told him I wanted it short, he agreed, asked me all the usual questions to do with restyling in his usual manner (as in, I feel like I'm taking a test, and he gives me that indulged look like I'm an eejit and have no idea what I'm on about (which, probably, I don't) but he's not going to tell me that at this particular moment), he sets to cutting and spends a good hour at it, and I walk out of the salon with my hair the same length it was when I walked in?
Apparently he with the scissors is determined that I am not chopping my hair off.
The husband thinks it's incredibly funny ... although he's not-so-secretly also very cheerful that he doesn't have to spend six months listening to me whinge while I grow it all back again after the chopping my hair off phase has extinguished itself in a haze of difficult to manage hair.
Maybe this is what it's all about? My hairdresser is a bloke. It's a men-uniting thing.
...
I wonder if the husband has paid him off?
Monday 14 January 2008
Something profound
If you have just lifted the lino off the kitchen floor, with the purpose in mind of sanding and polishing the native timber underneath, but said floor is still entirely covered in whatever extremely adhesive adhesive whoever laid said lino used in the first place, pre-sanding, do NOT stand in one spot in your bare feet. Do not stand in one spot to look in the fridge. Do not stand in one spot to turn the kettle on. Most certainly do not stand in one spot organising the fifty five million various things you want to pack in your handbag to take to work (which are never going to fit anyway) because when you come to move you won't be able to. You'll be stuck to the floor. Good and proper.
Hellooooo
*Sniff*
I feel like a tragic heroine this morning, going back to work. It's very sad. Very very sad. Very. Though, I did get a text message from a friend early (not really, I was getting ready to leave for work. But, relatively speaking, considering I haven't seen 6.30am ish in a little over 3 weeks, it qualifies) this morning who is currently holidaying on the other side of the world (wench) feeling sorry for me, so I feel slightly less maudlin. Slightly. Being indulged always perks one up a little though.
Sooo, I feel like I should open 2008 by saying something profound. Or, in the absence of profound, interesting at the very least. But, all I can think of is that it's 2008.
2008!
Two thousand and eight.
Two thousand. Eight.
... and I went and saw 'I Am Legend' at the movies last week, which is set in 2012 (and which, incidentally, completely scared the pants off me. Mental note - do NOT see zombie/whatever type movies when you firstly know that they scare the pants off you, and secondly when you are going to be home alone for the night afterwards, and especially when you have a neurotic disposition). 2012 is only 4 years away. How is it that a futuristic movie is set only a couple of years out these days? No fair. Still, I remember a futuristic TV programme which was set in 1990, so there you go.
I think I'm just going to go now, and feel very sad that my holidays are over and try and think up something profound for tomorrow maybe.
I feel like a tragic heroine this morning, going back to work. It's very sad. Very very sad. Very. Though, I did get a text message from a friend early (not really, I was getting ready to leave for work. But, relatively speaking, considering I haven't seen 6.30am ish in a little over 3 weeks, it qualifies) this morning who is currently holidaying on the other side of the world (wench) feeling sorry for me, so I feel slightly less maudlin. Slightly. Being indulged always perks one up a little though.
Sooo, I feel like I should open 2008 by saying something profound. Or, in the absence of profound, interesting at the very least. But, all I can think of is that it's 2008.
2008!
Two thousand and eight.
Two thousand. Eight.
... and I went and saw 'I Am Legend' at the movies last week, which is set in 2012 (and which, incidentally, completely scared the pants off me. Mental note - do NOT see zombie/whatever type movies when you firstly know that they scare the pants off you, and secondly when you are going to be home alone for the night afterwards, and especially when you have a neurotic disposition). 2012 is only 4 years away. How is it that a futuristic movie is set only a couple of years out these days? No fair. Still, I remember a futuristic TV programme which was set in 1990, so there you go.
I think I'm just going to go now, and feel very sad that my holidays are over and try and think up something profound for tomorrow maybe.
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