Apparently weekly picspam is a bit too much for me at the moment. I'm a forgetful critter, I think I have holes in my brain. Big gaping black holes. But it's ok, I don't mind as much as I make out.

After editing some of my cemetery shots last week I've decided I might spend some more time hanging out with the dead. Cemeteries and I just get along so nicely.
My weekly self-portraits are not going as well as I'd hoped. I've missed two weeks out of 13. Today is my last day for week 14 and I haven't taken a picture yet. It seems that i'm not as interested in self-portraits as I used to be.




( +8 )

I went to the cemetery yesterday. I've liked cemeteries since I was a kid, I'm not entirely sure why. Maybe it's the perfect mixture of creepy and peaceful. Or a childhood habit I just can't completely kick.
I used to like taking photos of grave offerings, especially on childrens graves because they're often so bright and happy, despite the sadness that has to come with the death of a child.
Nowadays I don't take many pictures, because I feel like I've done it all before, at least locally. But yesterday I was in the mood for snapping some shots. And I got kind of lucky. I found an old grave that some idiot has obviously descrated. The cross for the headstone has been inverted. I think it's a horribly disrespectful thing to do, but I also thought it might make for an interesting picture. When I got home and uploaded the pictures I was nicely surprised. Woohoo orb! I'm actually a bit of an orb skeptic, and since the photos were taken by a digital camera I think it's 99% likely to be just some sort of lens fuck up. But the pictures do look suitably creepy.

I'm trying to keep track of what I've been reading in 2009, though I know I've missed a couple/few(?) books, but I figure they can't have been that good if I've forgotten. I also didn't write up a 'to read' list this year, so I'm totally following my whims, which is working out wonderfully. Whenever I have this idea of 'should' it puts me off, so in future I'm going to see my to do/to read lists as more of a suggestion list. I find suggestions less intimidating and off-putting. Which is weird because I love lists and outlines, I just get all fucked in the head over following them. That's why I'm no longer telling myself I should read more. I'm figuring that i'll read as much as it pleases me, and sometimes that will be more and other times a lot less.

1) The Cement Garden - Ian McEwan
2) First Love, Last Rites - Ian McEwan
3) Inside 25 Cromwell St - Mae West
4) Exquisite Corpse - Poppy Z. Brite
5) The Collector - John Fowles
6) Emergency Sex and Other Desperate Measures: A True Story from Hell on Earth - Kenneth Cain
7) Company of Liars - Karen Maitland
8) A Fraction of the Whole - Steve Toltz
9) The Reluctant Fundamentalist - Mohsin Hamid
10) Piercing - Ryu Murakami
11) In The Miso Soup - Ryu Murakami
12) The Glass Castle - Jeannette Walls
13) Dead Until Dark - Charlaine Harris
14) Living Dead in Dallas - Charlaine Harris
15) Club Dead - Charlaine Harris
16) Dead to the World - Charlaine Harris
17) Monster Love - Carol Topolski

Bold = books I really liked and would recommend.
Underlined = books I kind of liked or didn't like much but think that people should give them a try anyway.

I've spent the last couple of days indulging in obsessions. True Blood, Ernst Haeckel, Miss Derringer, weird photos. Like most of my obsessions I think the Miss Derringer and True Blood love will be strong yet brief. I used to love that TV show Angel, I eagerly anticipated every episode until there were no more. And as soon as it had ended my interest started to wane. I now remember fondly my Angel phase, but I feel very little desire to go back. I'm like that with TV shows. Less so with art/photos, and the music thing is hit and miss. I can never tell with music whether I'll like it in a month, or a year, or longer. That old cliche 'only time will tell' is the absolute truth when it comes to me and music.

But while the love is there I want to share.
True Blood is like R18 Twilight...a more adult plot and lots of fucking. I'm a bit late on the True Blood bandwagon, because it was televised on Prime, which my TV just won't pick up. Ok, it might if I made the effort, but I didn't, so I've only just exposed myself to True Blood. Thank you Civic Video, I have a new TV show love. There is an awful lot of sex though.
I'm also obsessed with the opening credits. I love the song (Bad Things - Jace Everett) and promptly downloaded it, and the imagery is just the kind of shit I'm likely to go all googly eyed over.



( In fact i've gone a bit mad over imagery lately. That's why I'm here to plague ya'll with pictures I'm loving. )

I need to reply to comments and stuff but I'm kind of not finding the words at the moment.

( Yet I feel a compulsive need to post. Photos it shall be. Mostly self-portraits, because I've decided to do one self-portrait a week for 52 weeks. Which means I pretty much only pick up my camera when I think 'oh fuck, i need to take a picture...or 100...of myself today'. )

How did I only just discover this song of pure awesomeness?



The World of Warcraft undead/humans for the video really works too.

Loud Twitter thingimabob for my lj? Good idea? Bad idea?

Edit: I decided to give it a go. If I don't like it, I can remove it, right?

Massive storms hit Tokoroa in the late hours of 19th February 2009. Victims were seen wandering around aimlessly, muttering 'Faaackinell'. The storms devastated the area causing approximately $30 worth of damage. Three areas of historic burnt out cars were disturbed. Many locals were woken well before their Work and Income cheques arrived. The South Waikato News reported that hundreds of residents were confused and bewildered and were still trying to come to terms with the fact that something interesting had happened in Tokoroa. One resident - Tina Ngahuria Kauwhakahaere Aroha Smith Brown, a 15-year-old mother of 3 said 'It was such a shock, my little Chardonnay-Mercedes came running into my bedroom crying. My youngest two Dunhill and Jack Daniels slept through it all.'
Apparently, looting, muggings and car crime were unaffected and carried on as normal. The New Zealand Red Cross has so far managed to ship 4,000 crates of Waikato Green to the area to help the stricken locals. Rescue workers are still searching through the rubble and have found large quantities of personal belongings, including Community Services Cards, jewellery from The Warehouse, and Bone China from Countdown.

HOW CAN YOU HELP?
This appeal is to raise money for food and clothing parcels for those unfortunate enough to be caught up in this disaster. Clothing is most sought after - items most needed include: flannelette shirts, Fubu jeans or puffer jackets, bandanas ( blue in colour, definitely NOT red ) jandals and any other items usually sold in South Auckland markets. Food parcels may be harder to come by, but are needed all the same. Required foodstuffs urgently needed include: Fish and Chips, KFC, Baked beans, Ice cream, Chips, Fizzy drinks. Donations of $22.00 will be taken to buy a packet of Port Royal 30 grams and a lighter to calm the nerves of those affected. Please don't forward this to anyone living in Tokoroa. Oh, stuff it - they won't be able to read it, anyway!

I'm sorry, this is completely irrelevent to most people on my friends list, but it made me giggle enough that I had to post it.
Tokoroa is a shithole! The only other places in NZ that compete are Wairoa and possibly Taumarunui. Both Wairoa and Taumarunui seem to have an obvious gang presence, as witnessed walking down the main street of both towns. Which immediately makes both towns absolute dives, but at least dives with colourful characters who bark like dogs and run around announcing Sieg Heil like Hitler wouldn't have wanted to fry their dumb asses on sight.
Tokoroa on the other hand just plain sucks. And their Burger King is staffed with hopelessness.

You Are An INTP

The Thinker You are analytical and logical - and on a quest to learn everything you can. Smart and complex, you always love a new intellectual challenge. Your biggest pet peeve is people who slow you down with trivial chit chat. A quiet maverick, you tend to ignore rules and authority whenever you feel like it. In love, you are an easy person to fall for. But you're not an easy person to stay in love with. Although you are quite flexible, you often come off as aloof or argumentative. At work, you are both a logical and creative thinker. You are great at solving problems. You would make an excellent mathematician, programmer, or professor. How you see yourself: Creative, fair, and tough-minded When other people don't get you, they see you as: arrogant, cold, and robotic

Confession: If I had my way every friend/family member/boyfriend/acquaintance of mine would be required to take personality tests so I can understand them better. Not this one, but the better ones. If I didn't think it would cause people much annoyance and reluctance to comply I would be actively foisting personality testing upon them and demand immediate disclosure of the results.

Fortunately my social ineptness does not extend into a realm where I don't realize that this sort of demanding, and slightly weird behaviour, would be socially inappropriate.

But still, I wish they would read my mind and indulge me.

As I finally hit my stride of being in my 30's I find myself indulging in trips of nostalgia. Today it's November Rain by Guns N' Roses.



What 30ish woman doesn't remember being a teenager and that wedding dress? I remember being 14; hitching up my school uniform skirt, adoring that song, coveting that dress. In fact the dress alone is iconic, an example of early 90's wedding fantasies for girls everywhere.

In my world of 1992 GNR were the epitome of cool.
Sometimes when I listen to November Rain I get pleasant teenage flashbacks. Getting teenage wasted listening to the Use Your Illusion albums. Dubbing tapes for friends who didn't own them. We all dubbed tapes back then. Sharing what we had, sitting by the radio waiting for a song to come on so we could hit record.
Lounging on a large tomb at the cemetery with one of my best friends smoking a joint. Boys with long hair and Axl Rose ambitions. Trying on black lipstick and finding out that although it matched my jeans I looked more ridiculous than Goth. When friends sporting a nose piercings at school were considered shocking. My kick arse spiral perm that was always stiff and perfectly curly. Thank you copious amounts of cheap hairspray.

Now I'm 31 and black jeans are retro stylish. Axl Rose is so not hot anymore. Not that I ever thought he was, too girly looking, but legions of fellow teenage girls disagreed. It's been over a decade since I taped over a tape until the sound quality just died. No more spiral perms, but I must always have the hair straightener handy. And instead of just dying to look older, I'm gagging for my youth.
But November Rain is still seriously cool, and I pity the young ones who would disagree. Even while I envy their wrinkle free features.

My cat is in harassment mode. Apparently he loves me today. Love = staring and plopping himself in my lap at the most inconvenient moments.

I'm not sure how I feel about his need to stare at me. It's like he's waiting for my head to explode. Or judging my hairstyle.

Oh yeah! It's Oscar Frocks time again. I do like fashion, because I'm pre-programmed to like all things pretty. Unfortunately I didn't think there was too much pretty going on at the 2009 Oscars. Maybe it's because I'm not a huge fan of formal wear. It's not that I'm opposed to excess, I just wish it wasn't so sparkly and princess-like. It seemed to be all very bland yet paradoxially OTT.

This year I found only two Oscar frocks that I liked.

Evan Rachel Wood takes the A+ in perfection.
I'm no fashion commentator, I just know what I like. I adore this dress. The only thing I don't particularly favour is Evan's updo. Maybe it's just me but I find that particular look to be 90% dullness. Hair is meant to be pretty and sweeping and there. She pulls it all off nicely, and she does look perfect, but I wish she'd let her hair down.


I also quite like the dress worn by Sarah Jessica Parker. I'm not so sure about the overt cleavage, and Sarah Jessica in general, but the dress is lovely. Pity about the model, whose features grate on me for some inexplicable reason. I think it might be the Carrie Bradshaw effect, who is one character I'd kind of want to slap, so I have this illogical aversion to the actress who plays her. Still, I do like the dress.



As for the rest, it all struck me as very ho-hum, what a waste of fabric. Most of the dresses were passable, but pointless. I was bored.
But this is commentary coming from someone who would probably turn up at the Oscars looking bland and conservative herself, because I just don't get it. Or alternatively turn up in something massive and flouncy and looking like a hot mess, also because I don't get it.

I especially like this sentence explaining adequate rest breaks in tip #8:

"A girl has more confidence and is more efficient if she can keep her hair tidied, apply fresh lipstick and wash her hands several times a day."

I just knew there was a reason why cosmetic companies invented those so-called long-lasting lipsticks.

I'm loving the remix of Christian Bale's expletive ridden freak out.

It's much more pleasing the listen to than the original, which gets a bit grating after the first ten uses of the word fuck. If you're going to abandon basic verbal coherence in favour of repeated expletives you simply must do it to music.



I only managed to listen to the actual tirade once, but I must admit to happily listening to this version four times already.
Maturity really does elude me. But it's fun to be gleefully childlike over a catchy tune combined with repeated profanity. So maturity can bite me, I'm downloading the MP3.

Disclaimer: I'm not really a game geek. Seriously, I'm not. I only ever play one game at a time, and I rarely spend hours playing at a time. In fact prior to World of Warcraft I'd only ever been interested in the Civilization games. Then I was introduced to WoW and promptly ditched Civilization in favour of making myself a pretty little priest, collecting pets, and avoiding game death like the plague.

Apparently I'm allergic to dying. Not real life dying, which I suspect I may not be so fond of either, but WoW dying is what currently gives me the shits. As soon as I discovered that having a shield and a certain play style meant that I could avoid running back to my squished body on a regular basis I was hooked on not dying.

Unfortunately I rolled on a PVP server, and I generally fail at pvp. I'm squishy and noob.
I have particular trouble with Death Knights, Rogues, and Warlocks. They flatten me nicely, and then cackle mercilessly over my corpse. This annoys me because, as I said, I'm allergic to dying. I also like to win. But that comes a distant second to my deep desire to avoid game death. Especially game death in the form of getting my arse kicked while trying to quest.

So tonight I'm trying to kill a 72 elite on my 71 shadowpriest. The first time I died. Argh. Fuck. Annoying, right? But I half expected it. I was fresh on a high of solo killing another 72 elite, and knew my luck isn't usually that good. But I was in the mood for stubborn trying. So I buffed up and headed off to try again. And bugger me if I didn't run right into a 75 horde warlock. My little priest promptly started crapping her unsatisfactory green pants. Because horde warlock means PVP death. I'd just got a damned good NPC buff and I didn't want to die.

Then I realized that the warlock wasn't intending on sending me into a tailspin while sucking the life out of me, she was just trying to down the same elite I was about to tap. Being largely hopeless at PVP and rather fearful of big bad locks I decided discretion was the key. I'd let her tap the elite and then help her down the fucker nice and quick. I could have tried ganking her while she attempted to deal to him, but I don't go in for that much. I don't have the heart for ganking, unless I've recently suffered and my mood has turned most foul. So I figured that if I helped out the scary lock might decide not to kill me in return for my goodwill. All I was hoping for was that she'd go on her way and not fry me.

So there I stood, waiting for her to tap this elite bugger. As soon as she did I added my DPS into the bargain and it all went down cleanly, nice and quick. Finished and I'm just hoping that this will save me from the death DoTs. Then she turned and faced me, no friendly emotes, nothing. Seconds pass, no attack. I'm confused! Until I realize she's waiting for the respawn too. Yay, no dying, I hope. Sure enough, the elite respawns, I tap him, and the horde lock comes into play. Another clean kill. I'm happy, my quest is done. I'm even happier when I get to ride back to hand in the quest with the warlock, but without the Death DoTs.

I'm harping on about this for a couple of reasons.
1) I have a blog and I can.
2) I like it when hostile game factions play nice.
As in, I really really seriously like it when that happens. It makes me smile and think that not all people are complete shit. Because while it's just a game it can get awfully weird sometimes. I've read stories, and been made dead by random hordes on many occassions. And if i'm smiling and thinking people aren't shit that's a good thing. A lot of the time I'm giving my frown lines a good workout and smiting people, so a change is nice.
3) When you think about it certain other real life hostile factions haven't been playing so nice lately, so I'll take whatever nice I can get.
4)And of course, I didn't die. Which is always a good thing, in reality and in silly little game worlds. Though I would urge certain factions of real humanity to realize that there is no running back to your body in reality. Dead is dead, and repeatedly ganking each other isn't going to solve anything much.
What I would suggest is that each side joins WoW on opposite factions and duke it out there. It would be a lot less messy, and I wouldn't have to see dying people on the News.

I feel like I should say something about Obama and his inauguration, because apparently it's a big deal.
It is a big deal.
I don't think anyone can deny that his becoming the first African-American president is momentous. If nothing else this highlights how far collective American thought on race has matured over the past few decades.
Obama is also extremely eloquent, and his manner seems to inspire hope in so many.

So I thought I should acknowledge today. Here is my acknowledgement.

If I were an American I would have voted for him.
In many senses I'm awed by the hope he seems to inspire. And hope is never a bad thing. Sometimes it's what people need the most. As such Barack Obama comes into office with not just Americans, but many people from other nations expecting so much from him.
Unfortunately I'm a political cynic, and I'm not so hopeful. I believe that even with the best intentions one man can only do so much. I suspect that nothing will change anywhere near as much as so many people hope. But to inspire such hope, to be the first African-American president is something. And that is worth acknowledging.

As for the future, and what Obama actually does as president, I shall wait and see.

On a more personal level, I think of the expectations that man has to live up to and I'm in awe of the fact he's not curled up in a fetal position wailing. I would be. That's freaky shit. I have enough trouble with the expectation that I mop the bathroom floor on a regular basis. To have the weight of so many peoples hopes placed on my shoulders would have me checking into the mental health ward and demanding an intravenous sedation drip.

I also learnt how to spell inauguration today. I rock!

NZ Herald Coverage.

My book finally arrived. I ordered Dirty Blonde by Courtney Love during my fit of fannishness. I'm not sure that 'fannishness' is an actual word, but it is now. My possible contributions to the english language aside, I ordered the book from Fishpond and proceeded to obsessively check its postal progress. It was announced that my purchase would arrive between 30/12 and 2/1. Ok, cool.

So on the 2/1 I take to looking at the mailbox in a longing manner.

On the 3/1 I glare at the mailbox and begin my plaintive whining that goes like this: 'Where's my book? They said the 2/1. I want it now. WHERE'S MAH BOOOOOOK'

4/1 and I know there's no post on Sunday. I only stare pathetically at the mailbox a couple of times throughout the day. I reason that delays happen during the holiday period, but this does not prevent intermittent sulking.

5/1. Monday! It simply must arrive today. Spend far too much time becoming overly familiar with view of mailbox from front window. 5pm, no book. 'where the fuck is Mah Boooook??????'

6/1. Look out window at approximately 9:30am. Glimpse promising looking brown package. 'oh yays, must be Mah Boooook'. Open package. Grins wildly, my book is here. Put book down and start surfing through flickr photos.

Maturity and patience: I don't has it.

I now have a vegetable garden. It is small and it is young. I'm worried about how it will fare, especially since some major revision of last years watering policy is underway but yet to be implemented. I now realize that for my little garden to flourish I will need to engage in a somewhat alien concept of daily watering and general tending, but practicing this new policy may be a challenge. Somewhat akin to when politicians promise big things and routinely fail to deliver anything much.

Last year I planted a tomato plant and mesclun, and then left them to their own devices. Surprisingly enough the tomato plant survived, but punished my lack of attention by only providing approximately four tomatoes. The mesclun withered and accused me of attempted murder, then it died and I suppose I became guilty of salad homicide.
It seems that my thumbs/fingers are naturally less on the green side and more tinged brown and slightly withered.

Sturdy weeds may love me, but sensitive vegetables do not.
Parsley also seems robust enough to look upon my ineptness with amused kindliness, albeit tinged with contempt.
I didn't know what parsley looked like until approximately two months ago. A friend came to visit and started pulling bits off that annoying big weed in the garden, and I stared at her like she was mad. What would she want bits of weeds for? I was promptly imformed that the feral weed was in fact parsley. Parsley that I'd pulled up and tried to kill last summer. Parsley that laughed in my face and grew back. It's an admirable plant really, able to withstand my butchering only to reappear with flourish. I might just keep it. Even though I fail to see the point in a plant that seems to be essentially used as a pointless garnish, pushed to the side of plates and ignored. But I admire its strength, it's refusal to submit to my murderous ways. I also seem to be unable to kill it, even when I want to.

But the more sensitive vegetables? They're at risk. I want them to live, but I cannot yet guarantee that they will. And I'm confused by the simplest of things. Do I water once a day? Twice? Is it wrong that I don't own a hose, or even a watering can, and instead dump water on my plants with a kitchen measuring jug? Is it really so wrong that I ignored the rules for distance between plants? When will I get stakes for the beans and tomatoes? Are beetroot really as sturdy as the little blurb i read on the pot suggested? They don't look robust, they looked half dead the second I transplanted them into the ground.

I have no idea what I am doing.

But I did plant according to a theory.
11 tomato plants.
9 bean plants.
5 beetroots.

My theory suggests that I plants lots and cross my fingers, touch wood, and hope for the best.
I'm operating under the assumption that even if a few die due to my inept gardening confusion at least some have to be sturdy enough to survive and provide me with food.

As for the lettuces, they're still in their Bunnings pots because I ran out of space. They will hopefully be transplanted next to the parsely, but it may take a couple of days because while digging up the weeds surrounding the parsely I came across a number of intimidating spiders and promptly gave up. I might try again today. Clear the spot, potting mix it, and plant. But only if I don't become too focused on World of Warcraft and leveling my priest.
So maybe the lettuce outlook isn't so good. Possible salad manslaughter imminent.

But hell, if even one tomato plants grows strong and fruitful it will be an improvement upon last year.