Annoying people

When we went to Akaroa for my birthday we were sitting in a beachfront cafe having a beer, and a couple of women came along and sat down at the table next to us.

They seemed as if they were friends, and maybe hadnt known each other that long. Maybe internet buddies. One had an american accent, the other sounded like a kiwi.

They were both reading books while they enjoyed the sunshine and their glasses of wine, and NZ sounding woman had a hideously annoying habit.

She'd read a bit of her book, then ostentatiously laugh, really loud, and the other woman would try to ignore her. Then shed do it again - and the american sounding woman would be obliged to ask her what was funny. And non american sounding woman would read out the passage shed been reading. American sounding woman was trying to get on with reading her own book.
We left.
It was driving me insane!

Birthdays

I turned 30 last friday.
And for the first time in many many years, my birthday wasnt crap!
Nearly every year, something will happen to make it suck. Or more likely, something will NOT happen, which makes it suck. Expectations are a killer, and as much as you'd like your family and friends to do cool things for you on the Day, inevitably they just wont have thought of it, and youll be disappointed.

Fortunately, that didnt happen this year, and everything went like clockwork.
Admittedly, I organised pretty much everything I wanted to happen this time around, but because my friends are far flung, and MrFiji is not the best administrator in the world if I didnt do it there would be no hope of a nice day.

So, I organised my workday to be mostly non contact, got a hair cut (a drastic one - about 8 inches of hair chopped off), then when MrFiji came home we went to a nice restaurant (That I had booked) and a movie. On Saturday we went to Akaroa for the night (Also booked by me) and today (Sunday) we went on a wildlife cruise around Akaroa harbour (Yup, booked by me too). It was great! I have done all the things I wanted to do, and had a lovely birthday. Its cost a fair bit of money but I dont care.

The Wildlife cruise was cool, we saw Hectors dolphins, little blue penguins and a lonely looking yellow-eyed penguin who had become separated from his buddies and started moulting, so wasnt able to swim away to join them again until he finished the moult. Poor guy.

My lovely friends and family all phoned me to say happy birthday, I had a more than respectable pile of pressies to open, and nothing went wrong at work.

I cant remember the last time I enjoyed a birthday this much. Possibly when I was 9 and mum organised everything! My new rule is going to be that I organise all my birthdays from here on in. Screw the whole concept of leaving it to anyone else.

This is surprisingly apt!

What Your Face Says

At first glance, people see you as down to earth and reliable. Overall, your true self is creative and expressive. With friends, you seem logical, detached, and a bit manipulative. In love, you seem like a huge flirt. In stressful situation, you seem like you're oblivious to the stress.

What Do People Think Of Your Face?

I cant help myself

I have a chip addiction.
Mr Fiji and I can quite happily chow down a big packet of chips between us whilst watching a DVD and Im very well aware of how unhealthy they are. Its OK for him - he has the metabolism of a thing with a great metabolism and doesnt seem to gain weight. Ever. Even though he eats vast quantities of fatty food.
As for me, not being the most slender of people to start with, and only having to catch a glimpse of fried food to put on four kilos, they should be well down the list of things I eat.
But I love them.
Munch munch munch they are just delicious in their salty crispy goodness.
I need to find an alternative, less saturated-fat laden snack, and carrot sticks arent cutting it. I crave carbs!
Help me people!

Oddness

I have been hypnotised by this for the last 40 minutes. Beware.

Valentines day?

I know its just a crummy excuse for more commercialism, but it still sucks when it doesnt go that well.

MrFiji and I generally dont see each other after work - we rush home and then go to rugby practice or the gym. So this evening I came home and he had bought me a bunch of roses. Nice. I left his gift on the table for him.

I came home from the gym at around 8 and his pressie hadnt been touched. Then I got a message from him that he was going to his mates place to drink kava after rugby.

So, I will be in bed asleep when he gets home.

How fucking romantic.

Helpful advice

I recommend to everyone not to break their ankle.

Having ice skated and played ice hockey for about 20 years and never doing any damage to myself, I assumed that, those being reasonably dangerous activities, I was relatively bulletproof.

Not so.

Little did I realise that indoor netball is a vicious and violent game and it would be my undoing. Because I wanted to find a game that MrFiji and I could play together (with others, of course) and there are indoor netball courts reasonably nearby, I booked our team in to the competition in November last year.

Thirty seconds into game six I leapt to skillfully intercept an opposition team pass - and surprised everyone by catching the ball mid-air. And then I landed and heard a crunch.

Initially the sound, and then the pain of a broken ankle is something special. It hurt too much to cry, and as I had crumpled to the ground in a whimpering heap, other people noticed that something had happened and gathered around. I sat there growling at people not to touch me and trying not to puke. Eventually, as the game needed to continue, I hobbled off the court and sat in the bleachers with the netball centres supply of ice cubes (3 of them) inside a sock, trying to stop it hurting.

MrFiji, being the caring chap that he is, finished playing the game (we lost)before driving me to the hospital where they confirmed that I'd broken a chunk off my left talar dome. And so, six weeks of casts ensued.

This last Christmas and new year has been the quietest, most boring one in history.

And now Im being rehabilitated. Physiotherapy twice a week, which consists of the PhysioChick moving my ankle around until i shout, and then massaging my calf muscle until Im holding back the tears. All for my own good. And my ankle will apparently be normal again in about three more months. Hooray. At least I can climb stairs now.

All in all, a time consuming, painful, somewhat itchy and very annoying experience.
Just, Dont do it!

Whats your porn name?

Your Porn Star Name Is...

Jenny Jiggles

What's Your Porn Star Name?

Hehehe very apt!

Girly things

Mr Fiji, being Fijian and all, is very much a God botherer. Not to stereotype Fijians of course, but it seems to be the norm to be involved with religion, and give the church largeish chunks of money. So he goes to church on Sundays, leaving me to my own devices for half the day. Sometimes this is a good thing, as I can lounge around the house and do girly things at will.

There are some girly things I firmly believe should stay secret from men, such as the way we maintain ourselves to stay beautiful and desirable to them. Especially hair removal. If any man ever encountered me waxing my legs or bikini line, they would most likely run screaming and scarred for life, from the sight of the swearing, grunting, she-gryphon whose legs were red and inflamed, and whose nether-regions were partially stuck together with wax that wasnt removed quickly enough.

Also the sight of me with bleach applied to my moustache would possibly discourage him from kissing me anytime in the near future. (Hey, I'm nearly 30. Im allowed to have a moustache. I just dont think anyone should ever have to encounter it!).

A slight problem occurs, of course, when he comes back from his worshipping/money donating early. Like today. To find me surrounded by used wax strips, with blotchy, sticky, half hairy half smooth legs, complete with occasional spots of blood where I pulled too hard, and an upper lip covered with peroxide. Possibly not the most attractive sight, although he would never dare say so, bless him. Funnily enough he did beat a fairly hasty retreat into the kitchen when I tried to give him a kiss.

Friends!

My darling friend Ella has finally discovered blogging.
Her site is Bobbys Own World and you should definitely visit!

Raining

Today its rainy. Thats because its the weekend, and it is only ever allowed to rain in the weekends. Im sitting on the couch with the laptop on my knee and typing this post around Eddie the cat, because she has a sort of fetish for the laptop and insists upon lying upon it and dribbling while I type. I push her away but she just keeps on coming back, and her will is stronger than mine so I eventually give up and she stays. The quantity of drool she produces astounds me.

There are many housework - type things I should be doing. The fluff and bits of gunk on the carpet are threatening to overwhelm it completely, but vacuuming is my most hated activity in the world. I will just have to ignore the dirtyness until my boyfriend comes back from work, and then I will have to pointedly say how dirty the carpet is, and shouldnt someone vacuum quite soon. And then I will start rapidly typing something so he can see how busy I am. But what Im really doing is choosing my winning teams for the weekend. Heh.

Telecom Virtual Super 14

Rude Children

I was waiting at the physiotherapists office yesterday (Broke my ankle just before Xmas, am out of the cast, but still hobbling around) and a small child stared at me as I was reading my magazine and asked me if I was having a baby.

How rude!
Time to diet.

Yet another excuse

In March of 2005 the company that I had moved across the country to work for decided that it was a silly idea for me to keep a sinking ship afloat, and that they should just close their offices in the city where they had sent me. I had the choice of moving back across the country and continuing to work for them, or staying put and finding something else to do.

I stayed.

And started my own company.

Self employment is scary but rewarding, although I do have a slight problem with being my own boss....

I arse around WAY too much and dont get enough work done. And there is noone to growl at me or tell me that Im not meeting budget.

Not that the company is failing - It's not. Its doing better than anyone expected. Its just that it could be doing SO much better if I really applied myself.

And here we are. Ive started this blog because, really, it's just another outlet for wasting good, profitible work time.

So I will post random oddness, time wasting tips, and various bits and pieces of info about my life that I feel like venting. Entirely for my own benefit and interest - but if anyone else arses around as much as I do, hopefully some of it will come in useful! There will probably be adult content, so lets make this R18. Just for safetys sake.
And, to start with, we'll go to You Tube. Everyone has probably seen this by now, but tough luck! It still amuses me.