Kate's Birthday!

Today is my younger sister's birthday! Happy Birthday, Kate.

We went to the petting zoo to celebrate. Petting zoo? Hmm. It bills itself as a Wildlife Reserve but most of the animals are just wandering about waiting to be fed.

Animals I Petted Today, in order of petting

- Eel - not really a very pettable animal. Feels sort of like a sea cucumber, albeit one that might bite you at any moment. Also, they have freaky bright blue eyes! You could make a kickass horror movie about eels. Someone probably has.

Here are two little stories about eels. Once, when I was very small (well, smallish, maybe about 5-7) I was swimming in a river on our (country) property, and I was bitten by an eel! (Because I stood on its head.)

I don't know if you know this, but eels are like sharks in that not only are they vicious bastards, their teeth point inwards, so once they've bitten you it's really painful to get yourself unbitten again. See?


this is totally what happened.

The next day, all of the women who lived up the valley went eel hunting in the same spot of the river. We caught two and smoked them and that, my friends, is the law of the jungle.

Second eel story (also with picture:)

When my two uncles were relatively small (8-10?) they went eel fishing with Nana and Granddad. An eel was duly caught, and they decided to take a photograph of my Uncle Graeme (possibly Graham), who had caught it. Before they took the photo, they chopped off the head of the eel (why?) and due to some post-mortem eel reaction this is what happened:

proper spelling of 'uncle' too long

Of course everyone else in the hunting party thought this was freakin' hilarious and didn't help poor Uncle for ages. Also I think there is probably a photo somewhere of him being eeled.

Anyway, onto another animal! This is fun, isn't it.

- Deer - they were pretty cute! Looked just like deer are meant to look. They were shy at first, but eventually I lulled them into a feeling of security with such phrases as 'there there, deer' and 'oh, deer.' Then, when the deer were finally close enough to feed out of your hand, these motherfucking ducks that were everywhere came up shouting quacking and waving their wings about and spooked the deer!

- Duck - I 'petted' it with my foot after the deer incident. Enough about ducks. I patted a goose too at some point but meh. I also threw some food to a swan, but I miscalculated and the food disappeared inside the swan's feathers. Whoops.

- Wallaby - oh man these are so freakin' cute. I'm not really one for the cute animals but it looked like this -


- and it ate out of my hand. OUT OF MY HAND. Granted, I had to crouch down in the dirt for bloody ages so it got used to me and could be tempted close enough, and then when I stood up I realised that the entire time my other hand had been resting in a big pile of wallaby shit but it was totally worth it.

- Large Pigs (regular/kunekune) - I quite like pigs. I like their unashamed sense of entitlement, for a start. Most of the animals were pretty coy about wanting food, all butting their heads against your hand and looking cute, but the pigs got straight down to business; the second you walked up to their fence you were confronted with a wide-open pig mouth (do not run a Google Image search for this). They throw their heads back and expose these huge yellow teeth and miles of pink gullet, into which you throw the food. Then they grunt and chew for a bit, while you scratch behind their ears (apparently pigs are into this). Then they open their mouth again. Ah, pigs.

Also: the kunekune pigs (which as far as I can tell are pretty much the same as regular pigs), like many (if not all) of the Willowbank animals, live in a little shelter. The difference is that while all of the other animal shelters look like normal animal shelters i.e. primitive wooden huts, the Kunekune dwell in a replica of a traditional Maori dwelling. The Maori, of course, being the indigenous people of NZ. Does this seem a little inappropriate to anyone else? Took an awesome photo of huge pig coming out of Maori meeting house, but is not developed yet.

- Kea - Apparently New Zealand's smartest bird. In fact, apparently the smartest bird in the world! Bit my finger. Did not seem very smart.

- Donkeys - Not very interesting but quite nice to pat.

- Llamas - Should be called 'Llames': see Donkeys.

- Sheep - See Donkeys, but not nice to pat.

- Horses - A Big One and Some Little Ones. Not unlike Donkeys, except that one of the little horses bit my finger. Was my own fault.

- Rabbits - why are these even at the zoo?

- Mini-cows - Ok so they're actually called Highland Cattle. They're like regular cows, only about chest-high and ten times more awesome. They rocked! My favourite was one that looked exactly like the following picture, but was black.

He totally has a band.

I want a little herd of these hipsters.

- Mink - Mink is Andrea's cat. I petted him when I was at Andrea's house this afternoon. Hey, Minko!


Animals I Did Not Pet, but Very Much Wanted To

- Goat. - The first thing Kate said to me when I mentioned going to Willowbank and petting things was, "Don't touch the goat." This was rapidly followed by Mum, who said "Do NOT touch the goat!" "OK! OK! I will not touch the goat!" Turns out that the goat urinates on his own head (I thought this was pretty impressive until I realised it is the head that he moves, not the stream of urine) to make himself nice for the ladies. So we DO NOT TOUCH THE GOAT, or everything we do smells of urine forever. Got to the zoo and saw the Untouchable Goat, who was just crying out for some love! However, I did not touch the goat. Instead, I stood next to the goat, wagging my finger and looking stern, while Kate took a photo of me Not Touching The Goat. I really wanted to touch him.

- Gibbons - Not allowed to touch them (although apparently last time we went to Willowbank, when I was Just Wee, my granny fed them a bit of licorice. Sigh). Was at Andrea's this afternoon and she said out of the blue, "Are you OK?" "Yes," I said, "am fine." "Oh," she said, "you looked a bit sad." "No, was just thinking of Gibbons." Thinking of Gibbons is good band name; Gibbon Query also not bad.

- Kiwi - "Do not touch the Kiwi it is a very shy bird yada yada yada." Also was bloody miles away and first one I saw was not Kiwi at all, was rock. Second one was bonafide Kiwi, but still not very interesting.

- Black & White Ruffed Lemur - Could not reach. Also was not supposed to touch them, but I would have flouted that rule without a second thought! Look at them!

Well, look at this one.

Dude! I really really want one. One of the ones we saw was stretched out on a tree branch in the classic lounging-in-the-sun pose. He even had an tree-branch armrest on one side, had tilted his head back and was stretching lazily from time to time. All he needed was a little lemur beer. Lemurs remind me of a dog/human hybrid.

In summary: Nature rocks.

HMMM*

*What's red and bad for your teeth?
A brick.

I spent the first part of this evening, before Top Chef, going back through my old blog (which ran from August 2004 to early 2007) on some kind of quixotic chase for forgotten brilliance. Sadly there was not a lot of forgotten brilliance to be found, just a lot of posts in which I was angsty and grumpy (sample text: 'One day, I'm going to get plastic surgery, and then I won't have to have a personality anymore!' - Jan 8, 2005. In my defence I think I was being slightly tongue-in-cheek about that.)

I got bored with the archiving (will finish another time), but found this stunning little song from Feb 2005, which pretty much summed up my life at the time (and depressingly enough, still kind of does- except now I can't afford Galliano.)

I drank the Galliano but the Devil drained my soul
I go to work, I come back home, I might go on the dole
I had a dog, he up and died, I put him in a hole (this did not actually happen)
So I go in my lonesome kitchen and I butter me a roll.


Also found this poem. I was totally being a smartass when I wrote it but now I think it stands alone as a work of modern art.


modern utopia

i am sitting
on the couch which is textured brownwhitebrownwhite
listening to my stomach
fight the
hum hum hum
of the blaring blazing blue tele-
vision

i wonder
what follows this programme
will theywhodecidethesethings
screen
a sunday movie?

my stomach rumbles
and i punch remorselessly the buttons
of my silent remote.

extreme makeover follows;
the television muted.


Moving on.

Kate and I had an emo-off last night. It's like a rap battle except no-one cares about the outcome. I led with "I'm not glum/ just kind of numb/ look at what I have become," then she came back with the surprisingly powerful, "You and me/ aren't meant to be/ 'cause nobody's meant to be me." Then we both lost interest and just sat down in the corner for a while and thought about our feelings.

On the plus side I downloaded Scorched Earth, and now plan to spend the evening blowing little computer-controlled tanks into oblivion. yeah man.


Three Beautiful Things

1. It was a proper wintry day! Maybe the first one this year where there was a proper chill on. No not chillax I am not meant to say that any more. I like winter, especially Christchurch winters (when it finally decides to have one after a couple of months of mucking about like someone trying to choose between the fish and the chicken. "I like autumn...but then I haven't had a winter for ages. Oh I don't know, you choose.") Christchurch seasons are markedly different from Wellington (where I have spent my last two winters); while Wellington's winter is a tantrum, Christchurch's is a sulk.

2. I went to my impossibly coloured friend Andrea's house this afternoon to watch movies and sit about and drink coffee (which is a yay in itself, really, but that's not the point of the story). When I left, she rootled around in the kitchen cupboards and a state of high excitement in what later turned out to be a search for a little thermos mug that I could take the last of the coffee home in. While she didn't find this, she did dig out a water bottle, fill it with coffee, and give it to me to stave off the cold on my walk homewards! Yay for Andrea, were it not for her I might well have died or at the very least caught a chillax. (It's like the Dreaded Man Flu, but even more so - all you do is lie in bed sniffling from time to time and demanding hot drinks and/or attention, because you just feel so rotten, and could you please go down to the shop and get me a packet of Tim Tams because I don't feel like anything else, and maybe some of those hard little lollies I like, because I think they'd really help my throat, and maybe some cigarettes while you're there but before you go I'd really like, if it isn't too much trouble...a cup of tea? With the milk just how I like it? NO NOT LIKE THAT YOU KNOW I LIKE THE MILK HEATED SEPARATELY I AM SICK WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO DO, KILL ME? Oh I'm sorry dear I didn't mean it I just feel so simply horrid, you're such a good nurse...do you think you'll be going to the shop, you know, soon?)

3. I made an omelette and it was delicious. That's not really a beautiful thing, just a bit of random information.

Ignore this next sentence, I should really have deleted it but couldn't bring myself to do it.


In other news I am going to rethink my stock options* as a friend tells me the genitalia market is expanding.


*I don't actually know what these are

Four Exciting Things and Three Grumbles

Four Exciting Things

1. My impossibly coloured friend Andrea – wow. I’ve used that phrase several times before and never realised quite how racist it sounds until right now. I’m sorry! It’s based on her blog title, put your pitchfork away. Anyway, that’s not the exciting thing (although I suppose accidental racism is mildly exciting on a slow news day) – the exciting thing is that my impossibly (flesh)coloured friend Andrea has given me a blog award! (Which she will probably now take back.)
Still, I’m excited as have never been given a blog award before! Am going to put it up on my blog as soon as I figure out how to. Thank you, Andrelles! I am finally famous on the Internet.

2. I am visiting Christchurch this weekend – this means I get to see my family, and Andrea, and many other people beside. My plan for the weekend goes like this (I don’t care if you’re not excited, I am). Friday night – arrive at Chch airport, slightly giddy with excitement and pre-boarding call wine. Taxi home and bypass embrace of mother and sister for embrace of fridge (family always have goodies that I never buy for myself). Run around being excited. Go to bed. Saturday morning – Go Christmas shopping with my sister and a couple of my cousins. Begin in very high spirits, and then gradually become annoyed with mall, sister and cousins. Quite possibly end up going home on the bus by myself, laden with bags full of presents, most of which will be for myself. Saturday afternoon – go to Andrea’s for clothes swap party! Feel inadequate at lack of beautiful things to swap, but make up for this by claiming as many nice things as possible. Hang out with Andrea, drink coffee. Saturday night – not sure yet, but it will probably involve drinking and being merry. But not too merry, because on Sunday morning I am going to have brunch with my mother and grandmother. My grandmother will ask a) what I am doing with my life, b) why I am not a published writer yet, c) how band is going and d) what I am doing for Christmas. Then she will be very disappointed in me (because answers are as follows – a) exactly the same as the last time we spoke; b) because I am too lazy, c) I quit band and d) I am not coming home for Christmas) and go on at length about my wasted potential. I will become annoyed, and quite possibly end up going home on the bus by myself. Sunday afternoon – hopefully hang out with Andrea again, complain about grandmother and unfairness of not being able to shout at old people. (I do love my grandmother very much, but she is such a shameless guilt tripper.) Sunday night – go camping with my sister! I’m ridiculously excited about this, despite the fact that I hate nature and can’t work a BBQ. Monday – arse about enjoying day off not working when everyone else is. Go to pub quiz in the evening and do my pub quiz trick (convincing everyone else in my team that their unanimously-agreed-on answer of 'saxophone' is wrong and that actually everyone knows it was the trombone that Adolph Sax invented, then being proven incorrect and ostracised). Tuesday morning – fly home. Go to work. Sulk.

3. Am getting haircut on Thursday! Hair is currently shoulder length and about three shades off black, but come Thursday night it will be in a blonde pixie cut, quite possibly spiked into a little fauxhawk, and various shades of blonde. I used to have a pixie cut about a year ago, and I miss it. This Exciting Thing has a bonus layer of excitement as hair appointment is at 4.30, so I get to skive off work early. (Will say it is a doctor’s appointment.) Told my (younger, Christchurch) sister Kate about this, and she said, “No, you can’t! Long hair is sexy and vibrant! Short hair isn’t. Short hair says, ‘I am trying to be edgy.’” I said, “I do not want to be sexy and vibrant, I want a hairstyle that actually suits me.” Kate: “But men don’t like short hair on women.” …wait, what? Kate used to be an irritatingly devoted feminist (“I’ll never change myself for a man!” “I don’t understand women who sit around at home waiting for their men!” etc.). Then she turned 16, met Horrid Boyfriend, and turned into exactly the sort of little women she used to hate. Huh. Love is weird. (Also irrelevant to haircut.)

4. My job is sales-based, and on top of our salary we get a commission bonus every six months. Mine gets paid tomorrow and it is pretty freakin’ hefty. (Hence impromptu trip to Chch and visit to stupidly expensive hair salon.) I am going to party like a rock star. And then wonder three months later, when all the money is gone, why on earth I didn’t do something sensible with it.


and now, in the interests of symmetry -

Four Grumbles

1. I’m sickish at the moment and have a cough, and from time to time people say things like “Can you stop coughing? It’s really annoying.” “Yeah, I know – painful, too! Oh. Oh, you mean for you. Yeah, that must suck.” I do appreciate that it’s irritating but there’s really nothing I can do about it. (“Can you get some cough medicine or something?” “Sure, but cough medicine makes me vomit. Is that going to be more or less annoying for you, bearing in mind that I will be vomiting in your direction?”)

2. In my ‘pod’ at work (I am still deciding if I am a whale or a pea – given the amount of bagels I have consumed recently I’m leaning towards whale) we have a system where everyone puts in money for coffee, and we buy a thing of coffee, and then every morning a plunger is made, and we all drink the coffee. Doesn’t sound grumble-worthy, does it? Well, the guy who makes the coffee makes it far too strong. I like strong coffee, but we’re talking unbearably bitter here – he just keeps pouring coffee into the plunger. Not only does it render it far less enjoyable, it means we go through coffee about twice as fast as we should, which I resent because I put in money for coffee. Have tried mentioning it and occasionally making the coffee myself, but he just bitches and adds more coffee to the plunger after my initial efforts. Humph.

3. The fax room smells like something has died in it.

4. I am concerned that impending short haircut will highlight chubby face. This is not a new worry, but I did need a fourth grumble and couldn’t think of anything else. Perhaps this is why men don’t like short hair? Haha.