Leaf, probably…

It seems like the latest cool kid accessory to be lugging around with you at Uni is a guitar. Today I saw no less than 4 people doing it in the three hours I was there. I almost had 5 before I realised that I was looking at the case of a large cello type instrument.

Most frequently these are sighted casually strung over the owners back - no books or evidence of study in sight. Today though, I actually saw one in use while on Uni property, and I’ve got to say, there is nothing better than the sound of an acoustic guitar when you’re trying to avoid study.

Mmmm. I just ‘discovered’ the best lunch ever. And by ‘discovered’ I mean stole off Karlie, because Karlie always has the best lunch ideas.  

You need a box of cous cous, and a small snack sized can of lemon and ginger tuna (lots of other flavours would probably work well too.)

Put a less than 1/2 cup of cous cous in a bowl, with exactly the same amount of boiling hot water (I say less than because1/2 a cup of uncooked cous cous is a LOT of cooked cous cous.) Add less than 1/2 teaspoon of marge and don’t stir it!

Give it 3 mins with a plate on top to keep as much heat in as possible. Gently break up the couscous with a fork. Then add in the tuna, give it a good stir around, and then consume. YUM. Also cheap, and excellent for the office.

Also: I’ve NEVER liked marmite or vegemite, but lately my newest craving is a piece of sandwich bread toasted with a tiny bit of Mage and a REALLY tiny bit of vegemite. It has to be super tiny because I still hate the taste of it… But at the same time it’s exactly  what I want to eat at 10am. Weird right? Yeah. I know.

It’s been a bit quiet around here because I’ve just gone back to uni from holidays and I had all these unrealistic expectations of finishing an essay due next month and doing all my readings forever and ever. The end.

Needless to say, I’ve finally looked up from my jigsaw puzzle to find the end of the holidays here, and NONE of that stuff done. In fact it’s possible I didn’t even look at my exercise book because it’s in exactly the same place I dumped it at 5.30pm Friday on the last day of term.

So I haven’t been round much lately huh? I’ve been busy learning Foreign Policy Analysis levels and theories, and European parlimentary systems. And some Korean. Just cause.

I have my POLS test tomorrow (that’s the European governments - quick give me the differences between a Feudal and a unitary system!) and my INTP test on Wednesday.

On my INTP test: (Oh God)

Can anyone tell me what CREON efforts and “decision units” are? No? What does CREON stand for then? I’ll give you an extra two points on your end of year assessment if you can tell me.

Yes there will be an assesment.

Did nobody read the course outline then?

NO? Good, because I didn’t either.

One of the tests is heavy on the multi choice, and I like multi choice, so there is hope for me yet. Keep your fingers crossed for me please

Lately I’ve been feeling a bit negative. Uni has started up again, leaving me with less free time, and more work to do. Work has stepped up again, and I’m finding very little there to keep me interested  or motivated. My gym still doesn’t have any kickboxing classes I can attend, and as a result of that and stress I’m getting very little sleep.

All of this has had me trapped in a nasty mindset, example - I hate the bus. Uni blows. I hate my job. I should quit. Why bother it’s all just going to go down hill because I’m getting old. I’m so old all my muscles hurt. Old people need more sleep in the mornings. I hate having to get up. I’m only going to spend the rest of my life in admin hell anyway. Why bother finding clean clothes for that? And I’m never going to be allowed a puppy. - all before 8am this morning. (I’m just a beam of gleaming, life-filled sunshine in the mornings…)

So I thought I’d spend some time today reminding myself of things I love:

• Wiggling my fingers under the sand to attract fish.
• Cantering bareback on horses.
• Eating gherkins.
• Smelling freshly popped popcorn.
• Owning a computer (Come back, Marvin!)
• Wearing my dobok.
• Roundhouse kicks.
• Equalising.
• Fixing someone elses computer problem.
• Figuring out how to make my computer do something that I didn’t think it could.
• Making conversation with the old people who call our office phone.
• Hour long baths with yummy smelling products. And a book. Also a small bag of M&M’s and a big glass of chilled water.
• Having people believe the stories I make up.
• Cranberry Juice.
• The sound of my boxing glove slamming into a pad when I do a right hook.
• My boxing wraps.
• Catching up with friends.
• Connecting with new people.
• Knowing I did well.
• The Wellington International Ukulele Orchestra.
• Beating the photocopier into submission when no one else can.
• Winning stuff.
• Free stuff in general.
• House, Bones, and Boston Legal.
• Putting up the Xmas tree.
• Wrapping gifts.
• Getting my hair cut or coloured.
• Giggling.
• Dreaming interesting dreams.
• Getting letters and packages.
• Waking up slowly on weekends.
• Waking up early on weekends when Ben’s over.
• Walking dogs.
• Cats purring.
• Taking photos.
• Knowing where my phone is.
• Neatly packing boxes.
• Fresh sheets.
• Laughing with Mum when she tells me gossip.
• Doing Dad stuff with dad when I visit home.
• Running through kickboxing combos in my head instead of counting sheep.
• Finding a new hobby.
• Neck and shoulder rubs.
• Hugs.
• Learning New things.
• Helping someone else learn new things.
• Cold water, after standing for 1/2 an hour in the sun in a wet suit.
• Lukewarm showers.
• Biting into Kit Kat chocolate bars.
• Old jeans.
• Romance Novels.
• Watching other people dance.
• Going to the theater.
• Seeing the circus.

So Linda over at sketched out gave me this, sweet right? You should go check out her site, she’s a hoot! Especially the turkey suicide attempt that she drew yesterday… That suicide note makes me giggle every time.

Now I guess the name of the game is to pass this along to all the sites I lurve… Only there are too many to name them all…

I love Ali over at Cheaper than Therapy, because she’s a total girly girl!

Also Romi over at Year of the Chick, because her stories are the best. I think it’s because she uses all the best euphemisms for sex, and naughty bits.

And Talea from No Really - It’s Just My Face, because no one rants like Talea rants…

Of course I couldn’t forget Wendy from Thoughts in My Pants, because she does a pretty good rant also, and no one I know knows more about comics and stuff than she does. Also her blogs name makes me giggle.

Stacey from Memoirs of Queen Bitch, because even though we’re not in the same town anymore I love that I still get to hear about what she’s up to, and who she hates, and how crappy her weekend has been, or how awesome that book she read was.

And I couldn’t forget Alice, over at Alice’s Wonderland because she makes even the little things funny, and worth writing and reading about. Go take a look, and remember that I told you so.

And now I will stop, because, come on! I couldn’t possibly lurve EVERYONE on my blogroll right!? Except I kinda do. They’re all pretty freaking awesome…

Even if I don’t get enough time to comment on all of their posts like I did when I was still in possession of my computer Marvin.

Reading on the bus: not such a great idea.

Especially for someone who gets car sick at the slightest mention of a long road trip.

I have a confession to make.

I have a short attention span.

I often find myself half-way through a project with no desire to finish. Usually I’ll wander off and find something else to do until yet another cooler, better thing comes along. On a bad day I’ll be bored before I even begin, so nothing gets done at all. Those are the days you’ll find me camped out under my desk reading a romance novel.

When I dress in the morning I do it in bits, wandering between making my bed, eating breakfast and applying makeup. It takes forever and most mornings I’m over it before I even get out of bed. I set the alarm for another 10 minutes and hope that the prospect of finding a matching pair of socks doesn’t seem so daunting after a short nap.

During work hours I flick between emails, typing letters, filing, surfing the net, opening letters, writing on my blog, answering the phone and playing solitaire. To keep myself from staring at the wall behind my computer like a broken-down robot I multitask (badly). Most mornings I open the stack of mail and flick between reading Bossy, scanning the newspaper, and sometimes eating my weetbix.

My short attention span manifests itself in other ways too.

My food cupboard at home is full of half eaten boxes of cereal (I can only get half way through before I lose interest and must switch brands.) The diving course that I saved and pined and whined forever for has yet to be completed, just because I’ve found about a ton of other new and interesting things to do before finishing it. I have half a dozen posts in various stages of completion (one from 5 months ago!!) that are in need of photos, which are in turn in need of retouching.

Having a short attention span is a bit of a pain in the butt. I annoy the heck out of people, and I miss out on finishing many otherwise awesome projects, and if often gets me in the shit with my boss.

Luckily there are some things in life that, so far, have remained impervious to my inability to focus for long periods of time. Things like kickboxing, horses, trashy books, movies, and blogs - in particular this one, written by Pioneer Woman Ree, which has kept me hooked for MANY hours recently.

I suggest you take a look, because she takes photos, cooks, tells an amazing story or two, and occasionally suffers from a doppelganger! Just like me! (I think she handled it better than I did though.)

Christmas here at the flat was fun. I spent it with Karlie, and her boyfriend Kevin, Leslea, and her boyfriend Damon - so all in all it was quite cosy. We watched a few terrible Christmas movies, and had freshly baked croissants while people opened presents… And even I got one from Santa, although I suspect that Santa wears a pink robe and bakes a mean croissant. (*Cough*Leslea*Cough*)

We played card games, and I drank a yummy Mt Fishtail Malborough Sauvignon Blanc, which is a change for me at Christmas. Usually its the mandatory Lindaur Fraise with a strawberry in it. I don’t even like Lindaur, but do it every year without thinking (but… tradition! I have to drink it!)

As for the card games we played presidents and arseholes, and I can report that I enjoyed three terms as president before public opinion turned against my benevolent rule and I was ousted… I have a little more sympathy for Clarkes’ Labour government now that I have been through it myself! (Although how the hell are they expecting to win back the goodwill of NZ when they insist on pushing through unpopular legislation they they haven’t got a hope in hell of defending publically I don’t know…)

The weather fined up, and I sat outside on the concrete for a little while and listened to the tuis, fantails, and sparrows squabbling in the reserve behind our house. The neighbours cat, who we’ve named Joe, came and installed herself on my lap to listen to all the fun and drool on my dress.

I had a nap and read a bit of Dickens A Christmas Carol which is hard going, but so worth the pay off… The language is gorgeous, even when you don’t quite get the full meaning of it.

Throughout the day us girls had put together a menu of stuff we really wanted to eat and drink on Xmas day. The highlight of the whole thing was an orange and cranberry stuffed roast chicken that Karlie had found. It wasn’t the festive stuffing that was remarkable (it ended up tasting like savoury jaffa’s mixed with bread) - it was the size that made it unusual. Karlie somehow manage to find a size 24 chicken and drag it home. I didn’t know they came bigger than a size 20, but boy do they…

Then we sat in the lounge and Kevin proposed a toast, taking the opportunity to call us all rude bastards for starting without him (give us a break we’re in our early 20’s manners are for the 30+!), and we all wandered off to bed after watching (yet another) movie together and sampling the sangria. I sat up until 3am reading Monsters Regiment by Terry Pratchett.

I enjoyed it so much that I read another section of Dickens and a book by a Kiwi author today before lunch time and began writing my own this afternoon. I’m sick of all the romantic crap I’ve been feeding myself, and am finally ready for some real literature again. (Although will not be writing out romance entirely because a little bit of junk food is good every once in a while…)

I hope you all had a great Xmas, and spent it with people you care about, doing things that you love.

Boxing was fun. The wine had well and truly left my system by the time I had to strap on my gloves. Then I went and topped myself up with beer and pizza afterwards with the others from the gym.

I think the fun we all have hitting things together is the reason I haven’t gone up to the Victoria University Kickboxing to see if I can join in their fun yet. I think I’d miss having someone to gossip with, and I’d be the new person that is always getting it wrong and passing out because she’s not as fit as the dudes who have been there forever. That and diving is coming up, and I have to get onto running and bumping up the fitness for a possible tramping trip with the BF.

And on that whole fitness thing: Running is boring. The music at the gym blows. Staring at the wall gets boring. Where is this mythical ‘zone’ that everyone talks about? I don’t like running. The End. *

Or not quite - just one last thing… Diving is tonight, and I loved doing the homework! It was like the science homework in high-school - I loved that stuff. I did it for fun.

Did you know that the worst thing you can do while diving is hold your breath? If you did that you could blow up cause over expansion injuries your lungs. Did you realise that if you dived with goggles rather than a mask you could probably suck your eyeballs right out would experience a ’squeeze’. Also if you decided to challange your buddy to a 200 meter race at 20m under the water you’d be a fricking idiot probably experience some pretty full on symptoms of overexertion including a feeling of suffocation, weakness, fatigue, muscle cramping, laboured breathing, and I’d bet there would be a bit of anxiety and panic in there somewhere too…

*You have just been privy to one of Shannon’s famous whines. These are usually closely followed by footstamping and scowling. Stupid Running.

I’ll admit it. This is the first book that did not feature a woman with a heaving bosom and a reserved man with a heart of gold that I have read in MONTHS. And it was so worth it, I really (really, really) enjoyed this book - to the extent I thought I’d share it with you.

The Dead Fathers Club is a really engaging story. It’s written from the perspective of Philip Noble, who is eleven. Because of his age Philip hasn’t quite got everything worked out, so you have to do a little thinking to keep up with the story.
Philip’s Dad has died in a car accident, and his mother has turned to her mechanic brother in law Alan. As if he wasn’t having a hard enough time coping already, Philip begins to see his father’s ghost.

The ghost tells him that his death was no accident, and that he was killed by his own brother, who now wants to marry Philip’s mother and take over the family pub. To free his father from an eternity of terror Philip needs to get his fathers revenge by killing Alan.

Although constantly aware of his mission, Philip is distracted by life and missing his dad. He’s also trying to sort out the lies from the truth, and reality from fantasy, not an easy task for any eleven year old.

Throughout the story you never forget that Philip is eleven. For example he doesn’t really question the fact that he’s having conversations with his dead Dad. Because of this the story is almost refreshing to read. You can you’re your own judgments, and you don’t have to work to believe that, if nothing else, Philip believes that his Dad is there.

I found The Dead Fathers Club really interesting and hard to put down. The style of writing took a little while to get accustomed to, but after a while it seemed natural. Some pieces were so perfectly written that I read over them a couple of times, and even saved a page or two to go back and savour again after I was done.

The characters were beautifully explained through an eleven year olds eyes, although as a symptom of this at some points they read like life sized crazy cartoons.

The ending confused me a bit. I went back and read the last chapters a few times, and I think its one you have to make your own mind up about. It did kill me a little at first when there was no definite ‘here’s what happened’. After a little thought I’ve realised the story itself would not have benefited from it, so the ending is perfect as it is.

I’d recommend this book to anyone who likes to use a little imagination when reading.

The Dead Fathers Club was published by Vintage in 2007. Matt Haig is the bestselling author of The Last Family in England.