Friday, December 30, 2011

See ya 2011, wouldn't wanna be ya.

We're on the verge of kissing goodbye 2011. And when I say "kissing", I actually mean decking it.  This is has been a pretty sucky year, especially for the Cantabrians in New Zealand.  Mother Nature needs to get over herself. And soon.

As always, the end of the year provides an opportunity to reflect, reiminisce and decide what changes to make when moving forward into the next year.

I've always been pretty good at keeping resolutions, and I intend to keep my 2012 resolution too.  What is it? This:

My 2012 New Year's resolution is to start preparing lunch at home each morning and taking it to work with me, rather than buying my lunch which I probably do 4 out of 5 days a week.  However, I have a long-standing lunch date with my BFF, so I will allow myself one bought lunch per week.

I've already been dreaming of shreded turkey, colby cheese, lite mayo & lettuce sandwiches (washed down with an antihistamine to counteract my newly developed allergy to boring old lettuce).  Yum!  In fact, if I had the ingredients here, I'd make one right now.



It might sound simple to some, but I'll have to break some pretty serious habits to get this one cracking. For example, I'll have to have groceries in the house AND will have to get out of bed earlier each day (except Thursday). Yikes!

Thats me...what are you resolutions for 2012?

Wednesday, December 21, 2011

Santa, I've been veeeery good

I've been good this year. Yes, really! And, I've put up with all sorts of things that a sane person of good moral standing should not need to put up with. 

Everyone else is doing it (yeah, yeah...they're all under ten years of age...whatever), but anyway, here's my Christmas Wish List.  

For your purchasing convenience, I've included some piccys.  I wouldn't want you to waste your hard-earned pingers on the wrong thing.

Twelve Kartell Louis ghost chairs.  To have less than 12 people at a dinner party is a crime.  One must always have the obligatory twelve, in which case, one must indeed have the obligatory twelve Kartell Louis ghost chairs

A Kindle.  Word on the street (at the North Pole) is I'm likely to get one, so this is exceptionally good news for both me and Amazon.

La Premiere movie tickets for a year.  I live in the city which boasts New Zealand's best movie theatre. And oh em gee, it is flash as ow.  Its like being in a five star hotel.  The La Premiere class is waitered and catered, and the food on the menu is divine.
A Dutch style bicycle with a basket on the front so I can take my cat for a ride.  He'd love to feel the breeze blowing through his whiskers.  You might think I'm nuts, well, you haven't met my crazy cat who delights at sprinting up and down the footpath on his lead showing off to all and sundry.  A basket on a bicycle would be like cruising town in a chauffeur-driven Ferrari for him.



Only four days left until Christmas.  That should give you plenty of time to organise one or all of the above items for a self-proclaimed very good girl.

Friday, December 2, 2011

Follow Friday

Awww, check this out! Best #FF ever in the history of Best #FF’s.


And because it was so good, I decided to blog my #FF’s today.

Admittedly, I usually stick to the same old bunch of tweeps, but this time I’m gonna step waaaaaay out of my comfort zone, and suggest some of the odd-bods in my timeline.

@hello_im_megan The poor thing has a psycho ex-doghandler living in her house, sleeping in her bed even. And, what’s worse is that she spends her days knee deep in the bodily hair of her newly waxed clients. Yeow! Guaranteed to make you die laughing.

@blakamin @feefeebofaye @evilkud @JumpinJen @V8Matty ß these are the people I am about to become insanely rich with. Somehow I wangled my way into their twotto group, and every week we take turns at buying lotto tickets, and then tweeting our disappointment after the stupid lotto machine invariably chooses the wrong numbers. However, this week, we’ve all got a good feeling about the tix because I’m pretty sure I saw the nice lady press the secret “holycowthispersonsoneedstowin” button as I handed over my $24. Well done nice lady. The “holycowthispersonsoneedstowin” button has a direct link to the ball sucker thingie at lotto headquarters, and I tell you, this week, our balls WILL be sucked!

@kixy_stabbs One of my Vancouver tweepettes and fellow crazy cat lady. My cat loves her too because she always likes his instagram portraits. Last night, Edel even posed so he could send her a special goodnight picture. I’d say that she would be my major competition in the CATegory of “Twitter’s Craziest Cat Ladies”. One of the two of us will win. Guaranteed. Also, she's a real life bestie of @loveyourcake, so you get to see all kinds of weird and wonderful hashtags if you're following both of them.

@alexmc183 I've only just met him recently, and wow...he's giving @kyleipryor a run for his money in the "nicest guy on twitter" stakes. Often his tweets will be filled with stuff about VoIP and techy computery stuff that only @5hameless seems to understand. I glaze over when he's tweeting stuff like that, but when he tweets about BMW's, he has my full attention because he always refers to them by their entwicklung codes. Very cool. By the way, @alexmc183 @kyleipryor @5hameless and I have our own secret language. Nothing like a good nipple in your gomez, is there boys?

@websam Another of my local tweeps, he is responsible for putting together the logistical nightmare that is #nzsecretsanta. He also specialises in giant pumpkins, you know, the ones that take up the WHOLE of the back of a ute. So awesome. If you have ANY giant pumpkin queries, he is THE man.

And finally, because I know she was busting for me to #FF her, meet @SimoneBairdNZ. Apparently we live in the same city, but we've never crossed paths (that I know of). I'm not even sure she's a real person, but we are facebook friends so that does give her a bit more street cred. If she's not a real person, she's doing a damn fine job of pretending to be one. Another crazy cat lady, and always pottering about on twitter, ready to tweet when you least expect it.

I've read back and realised that I did mention some of my faves amongst this odd-bod list, but twitter becomes a small place after a while and everyone kind of ends up knowing everyone else.

Anyway, there's some #FF lovin' for ya. Hope you've enjoyed it.

Writey x

Thursday, November 24, 2011

What do you think of your children?

I used a blog topic generator to come up with today’s topic, because I don’t feel like writing the “Amazing men and their overwhelming desire to marry revolting women” blog (I’ll write it one day, promise).

And the topic: “What do you think of your children?”

Woah.

Ok, generator. You suggested it, so I’ll write about it.

My extended families (both paternal and maternal) are huge. My sister and I have hundreds of cousins (first, second, third, etc) in every direction. A real sense of family was instilled in us from a young age, so it made sense that I was “Aunty” to her dolls and teddy bears, and she “Aunty” to mine.

As we got older, the title of Aunty extended to living things – guppies (they were ALL called Larry because (a) they all looked the same and (b) they all swum around the tank “happy as Larry”), goldfish (Fisher & Paykel), cats (Friesian, Fluffy, All Black & Wallaby), a goat (Bartley) and a horse (Tootsie).

So, once an Aunty, always an Aunty, right? At this exact moment in time, my sister and I each have one child. She has a wonderful daughter Foxglove* aged 5 ½ and I have a son, Edelweis.

“Edelweis, isn’t that the name of your cat?” I hear you say? Yes.

Just because my son is a quadruped, is covered in fur and purrs when happy doesn’t mean I love him any less than I would a human.

He is the love of my life. When I’m at work, driving around town, flying around the country, in fact, anywhere except for home, his dear little face pops into my mind. And when I think of him, I smile and get that warm, contented, excruciatingly happy feeling that can only be described as love.

Back to the generator question…what do I think of him? Well, I think he’s witty, silly, loyal and incredibly photogenic. Occasionally I think he’s a grumpy little so and so.

It makes me proud when he patiently puts up with children patting him and tugging at his fur. It makes me extra proud when greets each visitor to our home. I love that he always answers a question and believes that his tail is a separate entity to the rest of him.

I love that he trusts me so wholeheartedly that he can fall into a deep sleep with all four legs in the air. And I adore that he is a stickler for routines. 

Most of all, I love that he is my son, and that the Universe meant for us to be together.

Well played Universe, well played.

*Not her real name

Monday, November 21, 2011

"Meet Me" - The blogger behind this blog

My blogging idol and dear twitter friend @loveyourcake had a brainwave, and that was to encourage other bloggers to do a post called "Meet Me". Here's Cakey's Meet Me blog: http://bit.ly/vc3Gf8

Accordingly, here's a little glimpse into my "real" life.

Let's see, I might start with stuff you've already garnered from previous blog posts:
  • I'm a New Zealander, but lived in Australia for 7 wonderful years
  • I am the smothering mother of one extraordinary fluffy white cat who is the absolute love of my life
  • I love public speaking, Princess Diana and Instagram
  • I was at a brothel on the day of 9/11
  • I've been on a date with Tom Cruise
  • And, I can't sleep with one foot hanging over the edge of the bed for fear of the crocodile who lives under the bed eating my foot during the night. I even tried last night, and lasted about 5 seconds before I had to retrieve my foot from certain doom
Now that you can see that I am completely sane, I'll present you with some pictures of my life.


I have a Velma Dinkley fetish,
and go out dressed up as her about twice a year.


Grauman's Chinese Theatre, Hollywood - My right hand is
EXACTLY the same size as Marilyn Monroes!




My other alter-ego is "Sista Mary Speights" and often I can be found out on the town in a full habit. This picture was taken last month on a temporary ice rink brought into the city during the Rugby World Cup.




My adorable cat LOVES going for walks on his lead. He chooses where we go, and I just follow along (sometimes at pace if he's cantering in order to feel the breeze flowing through his whiskers).




Grandma's piano at my place. My most beloved possessions sit on top of it. I don't play as often as I should. I must remedy that soon.



I took up Tap Dancing several years ago, as I didn't learn to tap as a child. This is me treading the boards last week as a haggard housewife (middle of picture, holding a black cat) in the dance school's end of year recital.

So, there you have it...a photographic insight into the real me (a costume-loving, tap-dancing, crazy cat lady whose right hand is exactly the same size as Marilyn Monroes and who doesn't play the piano as often as she should).

PS. My right hand slid into Marilyn's hand print as though I'd made it myself. My left hand didn't fit as well in her hand print, but I can't remember if mine was smaller or larger than hers. I'll have to pop back to Hollywood to find out, I guess.

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Tweet Number Twenty-thousand!

This blog marks my 20,000th tweet. And, this milestone will be beyond my mother's comprehension...I can hear her saying "Twenty thousand? What on earth do you twit about" (yes, "twit", not tweet. Remember, we are talking about the woman who rings me every so often to ask me how to twink (white-out) things off her computer screen).

Anyway, back to No.20,000. I thought what better way to celebrate it than mention a few of the tweeps who've made my twitter experience so enjoyable.

Feel free to follow some or all of this unruly lot, they're all gems in their own right.

@mattymcleanTVNZ - Matty and I met during a fundraising event I managed a couple of years ago. He was my guest speaker and had the crowd in stitches. Matty was my first "celeb" friend on twitter, and incidentally it was he who I was tweeting on 22 February 2011 when #eqnz turned our world upside down.

@HauteOnMyHeels - In the olden days (as in twelve months ago), the home page of twitter would show trending tweets. I saw one of Haute's and died laughing, so decided to follow her which then lead to me discovering...

@LoveYourCake - Cakey! My beloved Cakey who gave me my first twitter nickname "Writey". How cute is that?! Cakey was the first person to DM me that I didn't know. And I FREAKED OUT. She said she loved my twitter profile and just wanted to say it was the best one she'd ever read. I didn't know how to respond. Was she chatting me up? Was she making a move? What the hell was going on? I gingerly responded and since then have even talked to her on the phone during a tweet-up at her place.

If you follow Haute or Cakey you immediately get wrapped up in this funny little place called Vancouver. And their ice-hockey team the Canucks. And a national delicacy called "poutine" (from what I can gather, its fries covered in gravy and cheese curds). I'm still not convinced that its yummy though...curds? It sounds like regurgitated stomach lining to me. Your Vancouver experience won't be the same unless you also follow @BretInVancouver @VancityAmy @kixy_stabbs @LindsayDianne @TheFalconer @suitoflights @hurrrdurrr @SSDated @cicychan @MetalBlonde @schneidz @CeciBruja @causticchick @korvan @g_bugg @Babe_Chilla @geoffgauthier @WinnieIsAwesome @TessTattles @PirateMeghan @SarahSpizzie @teapleeze and honorary BC-er @MattyDorf - there are heaps of them. If twitter had an award for the most tweety-ish city, it would HAVE to go to Vancouver. My apologies for any of the regulars I've left out. I will keep amending this list.

@TiffanytheTaxi - I met this Sydneysider on the night of Wills and Kate tying the knot. She was also using the hashtag #RW2011 and we got chatting. I've mentioned her in this blog before and can't wait to meet up with her irl. Thanks to Tiff, I'm going to take up crocheting!

@LABeachmom and @phxguy88 - I can't remember how these two wriggled their way into my timeline, but oh my god...you have to follow this gorgeous, platonic, sweet friendship. Someone HAS to make a movie about them! Both are hilarious, and one is always pulling the other up by the bootstrings in a flirty, fun-loving way. I can't explain it. Just follow them, will ya? PS: We're talking MAJOR eye-candy here too folks. Sweet, all round, I promise.

@VaginaDesigner - Another tweep I found out about via the social butterfly Haute. The poor thing gets to flossy up women's nether regions by way of waxing and vajazzling. Can't say I'd be brave enough to do that, but on behalf of all the husbands, boyfriends and partners of your clients in Los Angeles, THANK YOU for going there! And when we grow up, Jen and I are going to live in the same town and go everywhere in costume. Her costume fetish equals mine! Unheard of, I know.

@kyleipryor - I've often referred to Kyle as "the nicest guy on twitter" and I stand by those words. Apparently if you're into Spartacus, he's kind of a big deal, but I've never watched it/that...what is it, a movie, a series, what? I've challenged KP to an arm wrestle which will be moderated by the equally lovely @5hameless (one of my local tweeps and go-to guy when I'm having iPhone issues). I'm pretty sure that KP is shaking in his boots at the thought of my guns taking down his in the upcoming arm wrestle. And oh yeah, KP and I are getting married in January. Damn, I forgot about that. Don't tell him I forgot, ok? And best of all, KP is often on set when "Embarassing Teenage Bodies" airs, so he watches it a few days later after we've all recovered. Seriously funny.

@thornybleeder - Move over Bryan Adams and Justin Bieber, I've found a real Canadian muso on twitter. He trawls the net all day and night so that you don't have to, and instead you can focus on your music, social media or whatever career while he sorts out the good from the bad. And, once you're aware of him, you soon realise that he is everywhere - twitter, facebook, various websites, instagram, even your email inbox if you sign up to his DIY Daily newsletter. And if he's at none of those places, well, he's probably at Kitsilano Beach in Vancouver where he and his gorgeous dogdaughter Koda check out their mayoral realm twice a day. Warning: Just when you think you've never met anyone cooler, he might tweet something out of character. Definitely cool 99.99999% of the time. If he has a rare out of character moment, just gently ask him to LISTEN TO SOME SEPULTURA FORTHWITH!

@Hilary_Barry and @MrMikeMcRoberts - For those outside New Zealand, these two read the 6pm news AND TWEET LIVE DURING THE BROADCAST! It's fantastic! Quite often they'll mention twitter at the end of the show (go us!). Best of all, they let us know what the upcoming stories are before they tell the rest of NZ. Awesome. Talk about being in the know. For a news junkie like myself, it's heaven on earth...well, heaven in the twitterverse. Mike gets extra points from me because he married one of the cool girls from a few years ahead of me at highschool @paulapenfold. FYI, I WAS the coolest of cool in my year at highschool, thank you very much.

@perstephanie_ - An absolute sweetheart, and I have no idea how I found her. She LOVES that I colour-code my books in my bookshelves. It sounds like her closet is the ultimate in colour and style arrangement though. I'll need a picture of it oneday gf!

@Mammy_P - introduced to me by @BretInVancouver who we refer to as BIVVER. Somehow, I got the nickname VIVVER and she's PIVVER. Regardless of all the ivvering, she is exceptionally kind and funny, and because shes in the UK, I can usually rely on her being online when I'm going through a bout of #insomniargh in NZ.

And finally, some of my own personal highlights on twitter:

1. @DavidHasselhoff follows me. Why, I have no idea. Am I stoked? HELL YES!

2. @LA_Reid tweeted me last week, which in turn made my dear little twitter profile trend in NZ. WTF? OMG!

3. #smcHam or #smcTron - My local tweeps are the best bunch one could wish for (outside of Vancouver). Although I don't always get to the tweet-ups, they're supportive, fun and some of them are verging on new BFF tag. Ok you lot, I said "verging", not that you had made it...yet. Plus, they make 4square heaps more competitive. The local 4square battles are full-on, hard out wars. Suck it down, all the cool mayoralties around town will be MINE!

4. The various friendships I've formed from following or using these hashtags: #RHOBH, #OW, #TBLFAS, #NZNTM, #ANTM, #BFGW, #GoGirls, #amwriting and #EQNZ amongst others. Oh, I better give a shout out to all the cat-lovers and the insomniacs too. Argh, too many people to mention! But here are some of my favourite gfs: @amandimoo @L_To @kathadu @WendyWings @jstcamel @bexielady @aimewee @hello_im_megan @jinnee79 @brenasmith @PaMelville @feefeebofaye @Chandy229 @muffinmum @meegandale83. Again, I'll amend this list.

Seriously, a big thank you to EVERYONE that I interact with on a daily basis on twitter. Your humour, your compassion and your odd ways of looking at life all make the twitterverse the completely sane / crazy place that it is.

Cheers
Writey x

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Roo-muh-neyt-lahy-tis

"Its best not to let her ruminate".

I suffer from chronic ruminatelitis (I also suffer from makingwordsupitis).  If I'm not busy, I begin to ponder, and when I ponder I get depressed, and when I get depressed, yada yada.

I'm on the verge of another episode of ruminatelitis because in the last month I've completed my latest qualification and as of last week, my tap lessons have finished for 2011.

Essentially, this means that I've freed up about an extra 15-20 hours per week.  I'm sure some of you would be stoked with the extra time, but it doesn't work like that for me.  

Extra time = more time to ponder = ruminatelitis

I still work 40 hours a week at my real job and "Write On" takes up a good 30+ hours a week.  Sessions with my PT and my own training take up approximately 7 hours per week. 

Ooh, oh...lets do some maths:

Real Job  40 hours
Write On  30 hours
Gym          7 hours
Sleep       49 hours (if I'm lucky, that another blog in itself)
Living       25 hours (housework, groceries, visiting friends)
TOTAL   151 hours that I'm doing stuff

Which means I have 17 free hours, 17 hours to ruminate.


This is not a good thing.

I need to fix this.

ASAP.

I don't want to sit in a pub or restaurant and get drunk. 

Unfortunately I can't do any further study at the moment because there weren't any tempting summer school courses. 

What. To. Do. ?

All suggestions appreciated. 


 

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Some Facts About Me

For those of you who don't partake in twitter, there's often a trend going on.  The current one is #SomeFactsAboutMe.  I've had to censor myself heavily (and resist tweeting a lot of interesting facts) because of my desire to keep my public twitter profile reasonably goody two-shoes-ish.  But I do have one absolutely extraordinary fact that is always a good one to drag out at parties or when meeting people for the first time.  The details of the fact are too long to tweet in 140 characters.  So, here it goes.  A fact about moi.


I have been on a date with Tom Cruise. Yes, THE Tom Cruise.  The couch-jumping, Scientology-following, Hollywood superstar Tom Cruise.  Yes, little old me, originally from Te Anau, Fiordland, New Zealand.


Eleven years has now passed, but out of respect for the people involved in the story, I've decided to leave out some names and details which could identify them. 


Firstly, I have to start by saying that my life in Sydney was very different to the one I lead now.  There are some aspects of it that I miss, but all in all, I got to the stage where "I'd been there, done that, got the postcard" and it was time to move on.  Cue a return to Godzone and a far simpler, slower lifestyle. Enough said.


I had the amazing fortune of sharing Tom Cruise's best friend in Sydney.  I met the mutual best friend through my job, and eventually left that job to work for the mutual best friend.  Tom and Nicole spent a lot of time in Sydney, maybe even more than people knew, primarily because Sydney was Nicole's home town, and also due to both Mission Impossible II and Moulin Rouge being filmed there.

The back story: For the sake of this blog, we'll call my then boyfriend..."Dick".  Dick was actually quite a twat, but I was mesmerised by the boat(s), car(s), the private jetty at the bottom of the garden, the wealth, blah blah.  He had the most incredible wardrobe...in fact, his whole spare room was full of racks of fantastic clothes.  He dressed really well and had the height and physique to always look great. 


Dick is the one that introduced me to Veuve Cliquot.  Every Sunday we'd jump in one of his boats, sail over to the Sydney Fish Markets, buy Lobster, go home, he'd cook it up and we'd drink a bottle or two of Veuve.  Yes, as I said earlier, my life was incredibly different back then.  Dick never wanted to hang with my friends, instead we either hung with his friends or stayed in.  Yup, a warning sign which I chose to ignore.


Anyway, Dick was supposed to attend the mutual best friend's birthday party with me.  On the day of the party, two awful things happened to Dick.  His little brother walked in on an armed hold-up in a petrol station in outer Sydney (but escaped unscathed) and Dick's Grandfather died (he had been ill for quite some time).  I couldn't get hold of Dick on the phone, so drove over to his place so we could catch a cab together to the party. 


I knocked on the door.  Dick opened it and was standing there looking like, well, an absolute dick, to tell you the truth. He was wearing the most hideous ensemble from his spare room.  I'd never seen any of the items he had on.  It was a complete mismatch and for a moment I thought he'd gone insane because he was always impeccably dressed.  He burst into tears and said "...(little brother story, Grandfather story)...I don't know what to wear to meet Tom Cruise...I don't want to go to the party...no-one will talk to me...I'll have a bad time...lets just stay at my place and watch a movie...please stay here with me...etc, etc". 


Uh, hello Dick.  Stay in with you AGAIN, or go to my best friend's birthday party which was also going to be attended by TC?  I was annoyed that he hadn't rung me or returned my calls, and for once I thought nah, I'm going to do what I want to do, not what Dick wants me to do.


I leapt in my car and drove towards the mutual best friend's house where the party was being held.  All of a sudden, I felt like the loneliest person in the world.  Dick (again) had chosen not do something with my friends, and I was going to turn up alone.  I started crying.  I rang the mutual best friend and told him what had happened.  He told me to forget about Dick, to get my ass to his place pronto, and that his party would suck if I wasn't there.  The mutual best friend was so wonderful during that phone-call that I then knew that I couldn't miss the celebration.  Bro's before ho's, right?


Tom had gone to the party on his Harley, and the paparazzi had followed him there.  I saw the photog's milling around the front of the property, so parked a little way up the street, wiped off the runny mascara, applied some makeup and went in.


I walked into the living room and then completely unexpectedly this happened:


Tom Cruise, my teenage crush, one of the greatest Hollywood stars ever, stood up and walked over to me.  He reached for my hand and said "Hi.  I'm Tom.  You must be Yvonne.  I'm here without a date, and I understand that you are too.  I was wondering if you'd be my date for the evening". OH MY GOD. OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG.  The mutual best friend had obviously told him what had happened with Dick, and here was this superstar, who I'd never met, doing his part to cheer me up.


I accepted his offer, and he proceeded to sit me down and then bring me a drink.  Tom was amazing.


He was attentive, kind, interesting, completely down to earth and hilarious.  The two conversation topics that stand out the most in my memory were about (1) cheeseburgers - he couldn't believe that we put egg and beetroot in Kiwi burgers, and (2) worm-farming.  Yes, worm-farming. 


He never mentioned religion.  We didn't talk about anything Hollywood-related.  He wanted to know about me, my life, interests, etc.  Tom was a complete gentleman.  Nicole was in Romania filming "The Others", which is why he was there alone.  She rang during the party and was thrilled that he had a date for the evening. Bless.  She is a sweetheart.


Now, not that this is one of my drinking stories, but those who know me and who've seen me in the vicinity of a piano when drinking, know that I like to tickle the ivories when under the influence.  The mutual best friend had a piano in the living room.  I was full to the brim with Cosmopolitans.  The piano beckoned.  I played.


The party literally became a repeat of that scene from Top Gun.  Tom shared the piano stool with me and everyone else gathered around and sang as I thumped away on the piano.  He was Maverick and I was Goose.  Together, we rocked!


Obviously, there is way more to the story, but I'm running out of time, and again, out of respect for some people, I've decided to withhold some of the details.  Lets just say, it was one of the most amazing birthday parties I've ever attended. 


Anyway, there you have it, my friends.  The Readers Digest version of the night when I went on a date with Tom Cruise.


And Dick?  We parted company, eventually.



Monday, October 31, 2011

Taking stock of life

A friend just posted this on facebook, and I decided I'd rather share it today than blog.

Thursday, October 20, 2011

Sisters are doin' it for themselves

Last night, Hamilton hosted it's inaugural Women's Forum.  The panel included our Mayor Julie Hardaker, Dr Sue Dymock (I've known her since I was about ten), Sarah Seel, an Engineer (cool, huh?), Raewyn Hamilton, a business woman based in Auckland...and little old me!  Kaye Gregory was our vivacious and witty MC.


Tickets to the event had sold out within a blink of an eye, and before I'd even known they'd gone on sale. 

As panelists, we'd been given the questions about a week ago, so we weren't flying by the seat of our pants.  Of the seven questions, there were only 3 that I was able to prepare for because I wasn't under 30, wasn't over 50 and don't have kids (two questions were related to parenting). 

Here are the 3 questions that I did tackle (and roughly the responses I gave):


a.  What have I gained the most from my relationship with my grandmother?


Given that I had the coolest grandmother that ever walked this earth, this one was easy as.  To me, Grandma gave me a real sense of self, an understanding of why it is that I love music, fresh flowers, watercolours, historical novels, Sherlock Holmes, silly television adverts, cats...its all built into my DNA.  Grandma celebrated my uniqueness, and loved my quirkiness...she never once baulked at any of the strange things I did or said or wanted, she purely loved me for being me.  Her passing was one of the most traumatic moments of my life.  I still miss her every single day.  The last thing I ever said to her, just a week before she died in 2003 was "I love you Grandma".  Best. Final. Words. Ever.


Following the death of my Grandfather several months ago, we cleared out his house.  Amongst the things, I found a little book I'd given Grandma for her birthday in 1992.  I'd actually gone through and underlined some of the phrases in pencil that were peculiar to our relationship.  These included:


"Good grandmothers let you tell them the entire plot of the film
they too watched last night on television. 
With suitable amazement".

"Grandmas sometimes race you to the next lamppost...
but then they sit on a wall,
and go a funny shade of yellow".



I finished that section with one of my all time favourite phrases..."Be who you are and say what you want because those who mind don't matter, and those who matter, don't mind" Dr Seuss.

b.  If you had the ability to turn back time to improve one aspect of your life, when would it be to and why?


Hindsight: wonderful and torturous all at once.  My overall response that I wish I'd listened more often to my gut feeling...and gone with what I'd thought was right instead of pandering to others beliefs and desires or being railroaded by the bolshy people in my life (I didn't say that bit, but I was blimin thinking it!).


But I can put my finger on an EXACT moment in time.  When I was 22, a local radio station that my employer had a lot to do with was looking for someone to work the graveyard shift.  I'd done some voiceover work for them, and was good friends with a lot of the team at the station.  They asked me if I wanted to take on the shift (yes, the hours would have fitted with the job I had at the time and training was no problem), but I declined the offer.  Everyone said things like "they're not gonna pay you enough" or "those hours suck" or "I'll never see you" or "do you really want to work in radio, its boring", et cetera.  And idiot me didn't go with my gut feeling.  Idiot me went with what everyone else said.  I have been kicking myself ever since. 


I would have LOVED a career in radio or on tv...something media/journalism oriented.  Now I just have to make do with flirting with tv and radio hosts and their sidekicks on twitter...you know who you are ;-)


c.  How do I foster healthy communication in a day when technology has altered the way we communicate?


Ok...so the audience was 100% women!  Yeah, I was really surprised at that.  I thought a few husbands or fathers or brothers would pop along, but no...it was a chicks only event.  But it was cool! 


The youngest there was 17-ish, the oldest about 80-ish, and the bulk of the audience would have been in the 50-70 age bracket.  I wouldn't go as far as to say that they came from all walks of life, but certainly there was a wide cross-section of nationalities represented. 


Thankfully, several months ago, I'd had a one on one Skype power session with @thornybleeder (shameless plug), and a lot of what we'd covered was in respect of communication in this day and age, and in particular women and social media.


Accordingly, I was armed with all sorts of stats (women aged 55+ are the fast growing demographic on the internet) and knowledge in order to answer it.  My main response (from a business point of view) was that as women, we need to embrace technology as a method of communication, that modern business is all about talking with people, not at people.  I explained that old school advertising was dead (yellow pages, billboards, newspaper, etc) because companies were no longer getting the return on investment that they did using those methods say, even 5 years ago.


Then Kaye asked me to explain twitter.  I tried to be succinct.  I just have so much to say about it.  I was practically jumping out of my chair talking about it!  However, omg, get this.  A friend of mine, Tania was there in the audience, and following my brief enthusiastic description, she signed up to twitter as I continued to speak. 


Fast-forward to the dessert break --> I tweeted that Tania had signed up, and within a few minutes she had 13 followers although she still hadn't even tweeted.  Good work team!  You guys rock.


Anyway, back to the event.  It finished with some questions from the floor including "What is your most annoying habit?" and "What poster was on your wall when you were a teenager".  FYI: Jon Bon Jovi, of course, the man I have been in love with flat-tack for 27 years, without ever waivering in my devotion to him.


Every so often Kaye would throw in a light-hearted question to put us on the spot, and all in all, the event was hilarious, convivial and a tonne of fun.


The evening finished with a brief speech by Julie, then it was home, into my PJs and onto twitter and instagram.


I had two highlights from the event: my passion for public speaking was rekindled (gimme more someone!), and funnily enough my second highlight was the natter that the panelists, Kaye and I had in the green room prior to the event starting.  We could hear the audience arriving and talking and laughing, but for an hour or so we just talked about our backgrounds, being stuck in the lift with movie stars, you know...that general chit chat you get.  Fantastic.


A special thanks to Bronnie for inviting me to be a part of such an auspicious panel.  It truly was one of the best nights I've had out this year.

Friday, October 14, 2011

A curious thought

No blog today folks, just a really cool quote that I found:

"It is a curious thought, but it is only when you see people looking ridiculous that you realise just how much you love them"
Agatha Christie


And awww, I found the purrfect picture to go with the quote.  How many other cats cross their paws at the ankle when in polite company?  Yup, thought so...just my often ridiculous cat.  And, I can't begin to tell you how much I love him ;-)
 

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Pain explained

***NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART, ICKY MEDICAL STUFF INCLUDED***


You know those severe cramps you get after eating something dodgy?  Well add that feeling to someone continually stabbing stiletto heels into the lower part of your stomach.  Got that? Then add Edward Scissorhands sitting inside your stomach waving his hands around.  Then add searing pain that travels down the front of your thighs to your toes.  Add sweat.  Add inability to speak.  Add inability to cry.  Then make that combination of feelings last for 6 to 24+ hours.




And, that is what Endometriosis pain feels like to me.  I've been hospitalised numerous times for pain management, and usually only find relief after being put onto a self-administering morphine pump.  I've had eight operations to remove it, and am now so riddled with scar tissue and nerve damage that there is nothing more they can do from an operative point of view. 


Not even removing a good portion of my innards will remove the disease, its too extensive. 


My most recent operation has been hailed as the "deepest Endometriosis excision ever performed".  Photographs and video footage have since been shown worldwide at medical conventions.  The Doctor who performed the operation has published his findings in countless medical journals.  Some of the endo he removed was more than 20 years old. 


But, if it had been in there for 20 years, why hadn't it been removed in one of the earlier operations, I hear you ask?  Because they didn't have the technology or skills to do it back then.


I've seen the photos.  The really old Endo looks like slimy black tar.  The newer stuff ranges from light pink to blood red.  I've got a great photo from halfway through one of the ops about 6 years ago.  On one side is the hideous endo in all its endo-ish glory, and on the other side, you can clearly see the organs that its been removed from.


I'm now under the care of a Pain Specialist because its inoperable, and they need to figure out a plan so that I can manage the pain myself until I head off to heaven. 


Last night I had an excruciating episode, so bad that I considered going to A&E for the second time in a fortnight.  Just as I was at my wits end, I got in touch with the Pain Dude and via his suggestions (then me upping the dosage a bit) we eventually managed to make the pain bearable enough that I could remain at home. 


Today, I feel exhausted, and as though I did 5,000 sit-ups yesterday.  The aching never goes away, but I'm used to it now.  Its the excruciating episodes like last night that wear me down, physically and emotionally.

I can't figure out how to finish this blog.  I just sincerely hope that none of the women in your lives ever have to suffer through it as I do. 

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Instagram 101

Following on from my worldwide phenomenal smash hit successful blog "Twitter 101" published 18 July 2011, I now present you with its cousin (once removed) Instagram 101.

Step 1.  Buy an iPhone (I don't believe that the Blackberry/Android versions of Instagram have been released yet - please correct me if I'm wrong);

Step 2.  Download the Instagram app (and guess what, it's free!);

Step 3.  Take a photo using Instagram, then apply one of the filters, possibly do some funky in focus/out of focus stuff with your image;

Step 4. Add a caption (or not).  You can even geotag the picture so people know roughly where you were when you took it.  Its entirely up to you.

Step 5. Download it to facebook, twitter or flickr.

ANYONE can be a whizz bang photographer with Instagram. Anyone.  Even me.  Here are some of mine:






If you'd known me as long as I've known me, you'd know that my photography in the past has sucked.  Really, really sucked. 

I only took ONE good photograph in the whole of the 80's.  Ok, so I was a kid, but still.  A whole decade and only one decent pic to show for it?  That is sad.  

By the way, another cool thing about Instagram is that you can follow your friends who are using the app too.  Once you're following you can "like" and comment on their pix.

I know that if I can't sleep Kate from the UK or Team Vancouver (too many to name) or Eston of Kenya will have uploaded something interesting to look at on Instagram.  Buildings, traffic, seasons, planes, pets, kids, food...the list is endless.

Oh, one more thing.  Instagram has already taught me to find beauty in the most mundane things.  Even letterboxes.  Here's one I took last week.

How pretty is that?  It even looks like a real photographer might have taken it, not someone who only took one decent photo in the whole of the 1980s.

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Life is for living, dammit

Some people have been a tad surprised at me putting it out there yesterday.  In reply, I'd just like to make a couple of points (bad language may follow):

1.  IF I had followed "advice" given to me, I wouldn't have entered Miss Waikato, and gained 2nd Runner-up;

2.  IF I had listened to those who were snarky and said I couldn't do it, I wouldn't have moved overseas and started my degree, and in turn finished the whole thing six months early;

3.  IF I had followed "advice" given to me, I wouldn't have become the leading female luxury car sales person in Australasia;

4.  IF I had listened to all the negative people in whom I'd confided my plans and dreams, there's a whole stack of other things I wouldn't have achieved (of which I am damn proud).

In The Muppet Movie, Fozzy said "turn left at the fork in the road", and I guess that's what I've always done.  I haven't gone with whats perceived to be "right", I've chosen various challenges because, well...they were mine to choose and for one reason or another they appealed to me.


Life is for living and I truly believe that deep down inside YOU alone know what is right for YOU.  The next time someone tells you that what you want to do is the stupidest thing they've ever heard or that you won't succeed, don't listen, ok?   You'll never know whether or not you could have achieved it, if you haven't given it a whirl. 

Oh, by the way...this doesn't go for people who attempt things half-heartedly.  You've gotta give it all you've got.  Work harder than anyone else you know, especially if you're in a competitive situation.  Prove those fuckers wrong. 

Imagine being on your deathbed with a "I wish I'd done such and such" list so long, that you died before you could remember everything on it?  How annoying would that be? ;-)  I, for one, will not die wishing that I'd given something a whirl.

Oh, and by the way...maybe if I was to re-write the above list in another five years time, my fifth point would look something like this:

5.  IF I had listened to all those who were snarky and said my script would never amount to anything, I wouldn't have won an Oscar.

Monday, September 26, 2011

"Out damn script, out I say!"

A picture speaks a thousand words, right?  One single photograph in a Cleo magazine captured my heart and imagination when I was at high school, and has gone on to speak tens of thousands of words to me since that time.

The image was of a girl wearing an Arran sweater and sitting amongst beautiful tussock-like beach grass.  She had her back to the camera, was hugging her knees and her stunning long brown hair was windswept.  The photo was part of a series of winter wear, and other images showed her with her boyfriend and other friends.  Everyone at school bought a copy of that magazine, and we all cut out THE picture and hung it on our bedroom walls.  Eventually the picture must have made way for something a bit more "mature", and it was lost.

During my teenage angst, I'd gaze at that photo for hours and wish I was that girl (either literally her or who she was representing).  And after hours of gazing, a story began to form in my mind, a story so compelling to me about why she was on that beach, who she was, and who she was pining for, that I HAD to write it down. 

The words tumbled easily through the end of my biro and began to fill up an exercise book.  I also wrote notes on other scraps of paper and soon had a scrapbook full to the brim that needed to be molded into a novel.  A family friend gave me an old laptop just before I finished university and I started to type the novel into Microsoft word.

Uh oh. This is where the problem began.  For some strange reason when I was no longer handwriting my story, I began to see camera angles.  I could hear music in my head and I could see more than clothes, they were costumes; ends of sentences became ends of scenes. 

The opening scene became apparent, and so real that I could literally feel the icy grass crunching beneath my feet as the mist swirled around the group of people I was with.  The titles, the music...everything...this was no longer a novel, it wanted to be a screenplay.

Damn.  I tried to ignore the screenplay issue.  But then Matt Damon and Ben Affleck won an Oscar for Best Original Screenplay for Good Will Hunting.  At that moment, the dream could not be denied.  My story born from a picture in a teenage magazine, which had developed through novel form and was morphing into a screenplay now had a goal.  An Oscar.  I needed to win for me, for all the heartbroken, forlorn and angsty teenagers, and for my country New Zealand.

The next step was to research screenplay layout, and I painstakingly "tabbed" for all I was worth to put in dialogue, scene changes and action into Microsoft word.  Courier New 12pt became my best friend.

What next?  Acting class, of course.  I successfully enrolled in Michael Saccente's Meisner class in Auckland.  The two year course was brilliant, and I devoured every script that I was presented with and learnt more about script construction and indeed me, than at any other time during my life.  If you don't know about the Meisner technique, Google it.  Fascinating and extraordinary.

Then I discovered the script formatting software "Final Draft".  The order arrived from the Writers Store in Los Angeles within a week, and tabbing became a thing of the past.  Final Draft is so damn clever!  It can almost anticipate who is going to speak next and where the scene is set.  Best of all, you can assign voices to your characters and have your script read back so you can ascertain the flow of language and check that conversations actually sound like conversations in real life.

Unfortunately, without the pleasure of being able to write full-time, boring stuff like work and study has inevitably held up the final push needed to complete the script.  But, two weeks ago a competition was launched, and now I have that final kick in the pants that I need.  I'm entering the script into http://www.makemymovie.co.nz/

A requirement of entry is to produce a movie poster.  A dear friend was happy to become my "star" on the poster, and via facebook, I was put in touch with an incredibly talented young photographer who leapt at the chance to be involved.  We were supposed to shoot the poster yesterday, but the weather wasn't playing nicely.  Hopefully, we'll get it shot next weekend, and then my entry will be complete.

I’ll let you know when the entry has been loaded, then if you like the idea, I’d be thrilled to receive your vote so I make it into the next round of judging.

If it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be, right?  And maybe, just maybe this story will stop gnawing at my soul, and begin to stir other people's souls as they watch the tale unfold on the silver screen. Just maybe.

Monday, September 12, 2011

9/12

Perhaps if I dug around in the shoeboxes in the spare wardrobe, I'd find my 2001 diary and be able to tell you what I did on the 11th of September.  However, not knowing is almost a blessing.  

On our side of the international date line, it was probably just ordinary day, nothing too memorable.  I would have gone to work, raced home, had a quick dinner then being a Tuesday, attended my Meisner class in the evening.  Like I said, just another day.

However while I slept, terrorists without warning, bent the world over and dealt to the whole entire planet.  Not once, but four horrific times.

On the morning of the 12th of September, I didn't turn on the tv to watch the breakfast news.  My mobile phone was on silent, and I didn't have a landline in my little apartment.  I just puddled around getting ready for work oblivious to the carnage caused in the outside world.  Just as I was about to race out the door, I flicked on the tv to check the weather forecast.

Cue HORROR. I sat aghast on the couch, not believing what I was watching. I grabbed my mobile from my bag and saw a myriad of missed calls.  My mum, my sister, other family members, my best friends, my colleagues...everyone.


I remember nearly every detail of the remainder of the day.  The Auckland Home Show had finished a week or so beforehand, I was scheduled to follow up some prospects. 

On this particular day, the owners of a business were fairly sure that cash was being stolen and they wanted me to quote on covert cameras to watch over the cash register.  From our perspective, the job was a simple one and I just needed to complete the quote in order to get a tech in there to wire up the job.

I drove to the business in question.  It was in an industrial area and looked like any other business.  Oh, did I mention that it was a brothel?  Sorry, I mean "a Gentlemens Club" (you say tomato...).

I waited in the library for the proprietor (Miss Scarlett in the Library with the Candlestick).  Through some partially opened sliding doors, I could see the girls painting their toenails, reading the Herald and of course watching CNN.  I literally had to pull myself together in order to feign interest in the job I was quoting.

I'm not sure if the owner (a very smart young business woman) was trying to put me at ease or what, but she proceeded to take me on a tour of three of their four theme rooms - an aquarium room (thank god Goldfish only have a 10-second memory span), a grotto with the bed built into a cave and a jail complete with bars and handcuffs.  The fourth room was occupied (at 9.30am so I couldn't be shown through that one). From memory, it was African themed. Rawr.

Every time we passed the lounge with the partially opened doors, I was torn between looking at the girls and staring at the big blaring tv.   

Eventually, I had all the info I needed, and went out to lunch in a restaurant where again the tv was blaring.  I ordered a Caesar Salad, and didn't even start it.

Elvis, Diana, Michael Jackson - I know where I was and what I was doing on hearing of their passing.  Those stories are fairly vanilla.  But jeepers, where was I during 9/11 (US time)?  That story is far from vanilla, and not one I generally share when people are playing "remember when".

I can't really say to people "Oh, 9/11? I was at a Gentlemens Club in Auckland being thankful that the African-themed room had sound-proofing".