Shooter: entertainingly dreadful

They shot my dawg - prepare to die

. . . or dreadfully entertaining I'm not sure which; maybe an equal blend of the two. But I stayed until the bitter end which is relatively unusual for me. Sometimes I feel shortchanged when half the movie is in slo-mo, but I was more than happy staring at Mark Wahlberg's ridiculous musculature. I started laughing shortly before Marky Mark whispers: "I'm not your son," and didn't stop until long after the credits rolled up the screen. "They killed my dawg" - too funny! Awesome! [Review by Writer Girl -Ed]

Because one doesn't get a second chance at the first impression, my first choice of DVD had to be perfect. The question is ... was Shooter the perfect DVD one could present Writer Girl and the Dubai Kid with?

In fairness I was in a difficult position. It was far too early in the "relationship" to take the more challenging titles. David Cronenburg's "Crash", and James Spader's "Secretary" could wait another day for an unveiling, if indeed at all. I wonder what a film about car crash eroticism and S&M would say about me as a person? Far too much at this early stage one muses. The romantic comedies were just as bad, and for exactly the same reasons they stayed at home as well.

Can you go wrong with action movies? I thought to myself, as I headed out to their house. To deny the brilliance of Shooter or Serenity could be in itself a huge faux pas - what if, in a brilliant move, I was actually taking the piss. Could you really rip either to shreds, when in actuality, you'd make yourself look silly in the process; after all Top Gun was actually a succinct exploration of the gay subculture in America in the 80's right? Exactly.

I arrived to find Writer girl making guacamole on the breakfast counter. Making guacamole ! Holy cow - I thought that that stuff came in plastic containers from the supermarket. Suitable impressed, I didn't have the heart to tell her I didn't like avocado, but shit, she'll never know - It will be our little secret - right? And as for their sound system - all previous memories of watching movies with subtitles at Brew King's place (so we didn't wake the kids), were well and truly erased in a blast that blew my man breasts out my back.

So what was it going to be ? Serenity or Shooter? Would either choice be the correct move - and in doing so would they finally see the subtle nuances behind my choices. Hold on a minute - were there actually any? SHIT!!!!

I needn't have worried, I really enjoyed the night. Writer girl and the Dubai kid laughed at all the right places, telling me that (a distinct lack of swearing from Writer girl aside) they were indeed kindred spirits. Now all I have to do is work out if they were laughing with me, or at me.

With me - right?

Once more with Feeling

These moments never happen in real life...



But they should....

Wheres my bloody Scythe?

This Monday I could have done without.
If there are two things I loathe, it's arrogance and a distinct lack of fair play.

On an interesting aside, I discovered I do not harbor any latent telekinesis; fortunate indeed for the arrogant prick in one of my Monday meetings ,whose head would have surely exploded half way through his ill informed and spiteful "dribbling on". Especially when he had no right to comment so negatively on something and someone he knew nothing about.


My disgust at this persons inane drivel, may have seeped out into the gaia-field, as other people present at the meeting came up to me afterward, commenting favorably on my restraint.

Restraint is well and good - but my sense of fair play dictates some kind of retribution.
If there is one thing I know about being a Kiwi; it's mostly about lopping the heads off arrogant tall poppies. Well - most of the time it's just tall poppies in general - but in this case I'm happy to get specific.

Degrees of digression

I'd like to think we all have a special talent. Perhaps we'll never be a John Mayer, Edward Norton, or a Marla Olmstead - but does that really matter?
There's no degree of talent to consider, just a measure of enjoyment.

I love music. From an early age I played the piano, but it never stuck. At high school I picked up the bass guitar and never looked back. In the early 80's I took up the guitar; initially I thought I was better than I was, perhaps now I've swung the other way; feelings of regression in the air. Regardless; music is a daily staple.

But as a younger man, music was an obsession. Now in some ways I've leveled out from that death spiral, although some days I'm forced to wonder if I'm on a slippery slope again.... I recently picked up the bass again - in one room of my house I have both bass and acoustic guitars . They always seem watch me when I walk past; calling me, imploring me to come and play.

Recently I spirited my Roland Synthesizer from Dunedin, and I am about to embark on a journey with a piano again. It's going to be a fiendishly difficult journey. I'll never be a Tori Amos, but I will be a me - and that's the most important thing to accept. Being the best you can be, doesn't invite a comparison, and I'm in no hurry to make one.

Haiku Moments

When you find yourself lying in your hotel bed after a week of little to no sleep it's a blessing when you find the bed to your liking. Stranger still, the moment when you discover the pillow is the right size and consistency.
Dread follows when you slip under the cool, clean sheets, turn on to your side, and you start to slip into slumber. Dread because you realise, you could be slipping into a haiku moment. A minute later you realize that you've found the perfect position in a perfect bed with a perfect pillow. Too late - you're in the moment; a perfect sleep beacons. But why dread it?
The sad thing is, in that moment of blissful happiness, you know there will almost certainly be an external force applied to ruin it all. And there it was - a dripping tap in the bathroom.
I lay there, blissfully happy; warm and content, knowing that getting up to stop the damn faucet from its infernal drip would ruin it all. I waited as long as I could before dragging myself away from nirvana - knowing full well that tap had eventually done it's job, and ruined my moment in time. Afterward I went back to bed, slept like the dead - well at least until 4am when I leapt out of bed with a wicked cramp in my left calf. Shit - it hurt; dragged kicking from a deep sleep...

Ain't that just like life 'though?
You have those moments of perfection, and although they're often fleeting, afterward there's almost always some pain to deal with. The secret is to recognize those moments of perfection for what they are. Cherish them. Like friends and lovers you may meet along the way to the here and now; haiku moments of perfection; comfort with pain - all this has happened before, and it will happen again. Life's a circle from the outside, when you take the time to look back in.

The Alternate Cycle

When monks don't think others are watching.

Character is what emerges
from all the little things you were too busy to do yesterday,
but did anyway.
~Mignon McLaughlin, The Second Neurotic's Notebook, 1966

Wouldn't it be boring if everything always went your way?
You want something? - it's yours. Just like that. Unconditionally.
Really - who would want that ? Is that really a life worth living?

Through our ups and downs we learn an important lesson. Not much good in this life comes easily, and the sweetest moments often taste all the more sweeter when you've known some sour.

It's the same here. My thoughts, and experiences, and resulting words wouldn't be nearly as interesting if all my life was a series of Pollyanna moments strung together with candy floss gossamer threads of joy. I make no apologies for what ends up here - the roller coaster goes up and down, but in the long run it's a ride well worth taking.*


*[Ten points to those who pick the not so subtle references to Parenthood, and Vanilla Sky in this post. Writers steal for a living - don't you ever forget it. ]

Soulmates

It's hard enough to find that someone special. People believe I'm fussy - When they invariably confront me, I always ask them if they chose second best when they picked their life partner. The answer is always the same, so why should my quest be any different?
While I'm old enough to admit they we may be compatible with more than one person in this world, I'm looking to be with my soulmate, and therin lieth the problem. I wont go there unless theres a faint chance she likes dark chocolate and red wine, along with the intangible stuff of attraction; something that mere words cannot convey.

...and this week (drum roll), she must thinks this ever so slightly humorous.


My sister in law didn't like it - so I guess it passes the litmus test :)

Office Monks ?

There were three conversations going on in office at the same time. Different voices, different pitches, different timbres, different tempo's. I tried to focus on one, but in trying to, my concentration completely dissolved like an ice cube on a summers day. I found myself, shortly thereafter, staring into space; a moment of complete relaxation.

Office chatter; the chant of the working man, bringing enlightenment?

What is the world coming to? :)

Job has a lot to answer for.

Take your time - really !

When you lose interest in lunch, then you know it’s time to seriously look at your lifestyle.

Today I took a slogan from Jacie’s blog. Simply printed on a sheet of A4 paper, it sits pride of place on my divider at work. “Sometimes you drink the milk, sometimes the milk drinks you.” I fully expect it will keep people at a safe distance – as well they should.
My mum said a while back that I had the patience of Job. Those words have been marinating in my subconscious ever since. The more I think about it, the more I think it’s about context.

Take Sunday.
I was waiting to be served for lunch. The lady customer front of me seemed totally engrossed in conversation with the serving girl behind the counter. Chatting away, she was (hopefully) oblivious to the people waiting. Just when you thought she would stop and move on, she’d delve into her large handbag, pull out her fluffy round purse and arrange to buy something additional for her lunch; all this while my blood sugar dipped and boiled at the same time.
I, on the other hand pride myself on getting my lunch order down pat – A cheery hello, order, pay, thank you. I know what I want before I get to the counter, and I’m aware of my fellow shoppers waiting for their turn to order.
After I ordered, I went to sit down to wait for my lunch, only to find the aforementioned lady was arranging the chairs in the coffee shop. “Don’t mind me”, she said. “I’m only moving the chairs around”. Perhaps this was supposed to be some kind of grand revelation designed in some way, to make me feel better: it didn’t. She was seriously ‘fucking with my Chi’. I said nothing – there was no point, she was apparently some kind of professional chair arranger, and I obviously had no understanding of her part to play in this world – to complain would obviously point to a problem with my ignorance of the situation.

I’m pretty big on etiquette. I was always brought up to say please and thank you. Just the other day I apologised to a checkout operator when my phone rang whilst paying my bill. I’ll always answer the call if it's urgent, but I always ask the caller to ring me back. You should say sorry, because face it, talking to someone on a phone when you have a real person in from of you is just plain rude.

Finally, take last week.
Last Friday I arranged to go out for lunch with a someone. Just as the menus were delivered his phone rang. What followed was a 10 minute conversation that’s seemed to me, more like 5 years. Every time the conversation seemed to end, it would continue. Twice the waiter moved past our table, and seeing we were not ready, moved on to others. I can’t explain to you the extreme frustration I experienced while he was on the phone, yet I realised I was applying my own values to his situation. He was obviously an ignorant prick, and that just couldn’t be helped. Context had its part to play yet again.

When I see a young child play with a family pet I’m reminded how the animals always seem to cut the child slack, especially when they are toddlers – like the cat understands the kid doesn’t know the rules yet. Later, when the kid gets older the scratches start; the cat teaches the kid about boundaries. Just a pity we don’t allow Taser's in this country. The patience of Job be damned – I’d love to set some boundaries myself.

[Disclaimer: This post was written during a period of low blood sugar]

Inks.

Is it just me, or does the universe seem a little smaller without Michael Hutchence in it?
Erotic asphyxiation aside, the man was an amazing performer from the very start. Better to be remembered for our time in the world than our exit from it.



This song, from a much later INXS, would make a perfect wedding song. It would be my choice anyway.

Don't ask me
What you know is true
Don't have to tell you
I love your precious heart

Once more with Feeling

I am not a drugs cheat!

We’re a funny lot, we humans.
Soon, some of us will be tuning in to the Olympics "machine" to watch stronger, faster, fitter people jump through hoops like performing seals. Personally I think the whole games thing is a freak show.
Imagine what sort of a personality it takes to get to the top of your game. Then imagine how hard it must be then, for that over-driven freakazoid not to take performance enhancing drugs. My heart goes out to those honest guys who stay legit and don’t feel the need take that extra little step to drug fuelled excellence; they wont win, trust me.
Now, years later with the benefit of better drug testing, we can go back and retest old test samples, only to find that some people had access to better drugs that masked detection at the time. They never seem to take the medals off them after they've been found out – perhaps because that's not in the spirit of “The Games”. [Note: Interestingly they do take them off you if it's political.]
I think it’s time to admit to the hypocrisy, give up the testing, and allow the athletes to just “go for it”.
Perhaps the more genetically unstable of us could grow another couple of legs to win the 100meters, but perhaps, more realistically, an orgy on Human Growth Hormones and EPO would do the trick quite nicely thank you. One ponders on what other drug marvels have already been developed, yet haven’t been implemented because of a fear of detection. I wonder, in years to come, if we could all live with the news reports that in this year’s Olympics only 2 people died of myocardial infarction in the 100m track finals; a small price to pay for progress perhaps.
With the ever decreasing opportunities for records to be broken as the years go on, I’m sure the games committee will see the benefits in the viewer numbers going up if life and death were thrown into the mix. "86" the fancy swimwear, embrace the greatness you know you can be; grow a set of gills. In a final stroke of brilliance, we could just get the drug manufacturers to sponsor the athletes - imagine the endorsements - they should be on the gravy train for (albeit a short) life.
So, short of reducing the size of a metre, or taking the timing up to another decimal point on the stopwatch, the Olympics are on the slippery road to mediocrity. It’s time to man up, and admit it. The drug cheats are ruining it for those who maintain the Olympic ideal, so we might as well embrace the drug technology. Until they do I won’t be tuning in – the hypocrisy of drugs aside, I could always site China’s horrific human rights record – but perhaps that isn't in the spirit of the games either….

Gravity

There are few things that surprise me these days; I guess that includes people as well. Sometimes I crave something extra from this world - something unexplained, unexpected, not manufactured by me for me in any way. The problem is; it never seems to happen.
Deep down inside I know I don't want everything to be explained away by logic. Just once or twice I'd love to live in a world where one plus one didn't always equal two. I'm not looking for a religious experience, or a drive by shooting even! I just want to be pleasantly surprised, and reminded that everything I know isn't always the way it is.
How many ways to say the same thing badly - the words are on the tip of my tongue but they wont come. Maybe I'll find them one day, and come back to edit this....

It's just when I hear this song, the small part left clinging to that hope feels a little more optimistic.

Oh I'll never know
What makes this man
With all the love
That his heart can stand
Dream of ways
To throw it all away

The Passion of the Mark

It's like this!!!

I don't know why, but when I'm talking about the things I'm passionate about, I often feel like a kid again.
As an adult perhaps I should be a little more reserved when I talk about some aspects of my job with my peers? It seems at times, when I get into discussions in meetings around issues around work i do, the adrenalin seems to takes hold and I almost regret it later. Afterward [when the shakes subside], I hope these concerns are unfounded and is all in my head. You know...maybe, from the perspective of the outsider looking in, every thing looks normal; like an ordinary, everyday, normal passion. :)
Being normal sometimes has its advantages - when you're so obviously not.

Another lesson in the making

Obsession isn't a strong point of mine any longer. Sooner or later you just have to accept that for a relationship to exist both parties have to feel the same way. Unrequited love is pathetic, and unhealthy - except maybe in the romantic comedy. And you should know my feelings on that genre by now.

When you cant move on.... well then you get something less than either party deserves. Something, maybe like this;

Powerful stuff - the more I hear it the more I like it. The song that is; never the message. Never this message in real life, I can assure you.

The wisdom of the ages

Disclaimer : this is not about any particular person or event. I promise!

I don't think we say enough about how we feel for others.
I wonder sometimes, if the whole human condition hasn't stagnated along the path of evolutionary development simply because of this one simple fact.
Maybe, just maybe, we don't say "I Love You" to each other anywhere near enough.

What could possibly make me go out on the thinnest branch of the evolutionary tree to say this? What is the single biggest argument for this cause?
Simple: The romantic comedy.

Oh Meg - you serial scary person you!

Everything I need to know about love, I learned from Meg Ryan films.

In Sleepless in Seattle I learned the following things;

1) If you've truly loved once, you've find love again. But you must first have been truly in love.

2) You'll learn about the Tiramasu sexual position, because it's all the rage right now.

3) If you talk about true love on the radio, an attractive girl will fall for you.

4) If you truly love someone you must write to them, but throw the letter away, knowing your friends are good enough to find it and post it on your behalf.

5) Your intended love's partner will graciously step aside in the face of true love, make the object of your desire believe in them self, practically wishing them good luck on there way to the Empire State Building (or other high building depending on your locale) to meet you, their "more truer" love. And you, true believer, will be there waiting, with your son (if you have one), who, you will discover, already loves her.

In You've got Mail I also learned;

6) It's OK to stalk someone if you really really really like them a lot. Even if they don't know who "you" are. Really it is - Just ask Tom Hanks. I was interested to note that you can financially ruin her in the process. Sorry - my bad - "Don't cry shop girl, don't cry".

7) That the object of your affection will conveniently get dumped in time for you to make your entrance - oh don't worry - she'll even be happy for the guy who dumped her. She will also be happy in the knowledge that you stalked her and deceived her. Because thats what people who love each other do, silly!

8) Unfortunately, first you may have to dump your girlfriend (but never, never your wife). Don't worry tho, because she's probably a bit of a superficial bitch anyway.
[Note: If you are married - you can not live a romantic comedy movie lifestyle - period]

Finally... in French Kiss I learned;

That girls like foreign lovable rogue types who steal cars and hide contraband on them when they go through customs. It gets better - you can freely mention sleeping with prostitutes, especially when you mention you stole money off your brother to go back to the same "said prostitute"; this time only to kiss her. Later on, for good measure, you can tell her you also slept with your brothers wife. Oh Luc, you lovable rogue!

From the same film I learned that if someone loves you they will give you their personal fortune and arrange it in secret with the police so it looks like it came from the sale of a stolen necklace. I discovered policemen were not to be trusted, and will undo the elaborate ruse only to tell - but wait - it's so the lovable rogue who stole his brothers credit card to pay for her blue dress and accommodation, can tell you that they were meant for each other.


You could believe all this rubbish, or simply look at the clip below, which is perhaps one of the best uses of the words "I love you" that I have ever seen. I suspect you may agree with me.

Northern Sky

It's amazing what you find when you start listening to the music in the background of your favorite television programs.



Nick Drake - recorded circa 1974

Anzac Day rememberance

Kiwi's like this make me proud to be a New Zealander.

This just serves to remind me of the sacrifices make by the men and women of our armed services, both past and present, to make our world a better place to live in.

Thankyou.

Arguement disproved

This song is as brilliant now as it was then.

You say I'm a dreamer,
we're two of a kind
Both of us searching for some perfect world
we know we'll never find
So perhaps I should leave here,
yeah go far away
But you know that there's nowhere that I'd rather be
than with you here today

Another girl another planet

Maybe memory is unreliable, coloured with all the years in between, until only what you choose to remember is left. Case in point; this song - which in my memory sounded so much better than in this You tube clip. Or this one even!



Perhaps the only reason we remember past events so kindly is because there's no way of ever being there again. I'm not ready to admit it entirely yet. I'm off to find an mp3 for a final check, because I'm not letting "this" go without a fight.

Man Cold Alert

I have a "man cold". If I make it through the night I'll post tomorrow :)

Life's Cement

Secret camera phone images

"Friendship is the only cement that will ever hold the world together"
- Woodrow Wilson

So many friends, so little time to see them all.
By being home I see the many and varied friends I have. All lifelong friends now without a doubt, and from so many directions they've come! They open their hearts and their homes - I've never had so many cups of tea.:)
Big smiles, warm hearts, and memories both good and bad. Old friends evolve, new friends grow stronger.
With each one I make, I make a place in this world - A place worth fighting for; a home wherever I go.

A gypsy once said I'd be incredibly rich - I had no idea how much.

Waterfront

You just cant have one song without the other.
Hope this doesn't start a huge wave of nostalgia out there, and don't worry - I wont post any Style Council stuff :)

Back to the Bard

In the main, we may well shudder at the thought of the New Romantic period of music, but there were some songs that still stand out in my mind as brilliant.

Memories, burning gold memories
Gold of day memories change me in these times
Somewhere there is some place, that one million eyes cant see
And somewhere there is someone, who can see what I can see.

Maybe I hope it's still so.

Damn - is it here again already?

Greetings from Sunny Dunedin.

This morning I woke at 6am due, in part, to the first of a long line of congratulatory SMS messages wishing me a Happy Birthday. I spent most of the the morning with Mum and Dad and my nephew Cole, before heading off to lunch with Keri and Sandra. The afternoon found me in a comfortable bar with IG, and a couple of glasses of Merlot, realizing all days should be this good.
It's nice to be home, although I'm a bit flat, perhaps noting how nice it would be to have what I know I'm missing, here with me.
Still, all up - a pretty good year. It's nice to have some many people to share it with :)

I wonder where 2009 will find me?

Ken Lee

I know I shouldn't laugh at this.



But I'm not that good a person yet :)

The Superficial

I love this song.
I respect Hayley Williams as much as a 40 (ish) year old can appreciate a 19 year old.
Dignified respect people! Dignified respect!
The girls got talent, and the guys in the background aren't too shabby either.

Chewing gum for the ears, but a flavour i like never-the-less :)

Making a picture

My thoughts today are everywhere. Somewhere between yesterday and today I ended up here; thinking about watching Fleetwood Mac at Wembley Stadium with NFG. Here I was, small town me, as far away from home as I could possibly be, watching Fleetwood Mac play; blown away by the whole thing. London! Wembley Stadium! All these bloody people!
Stevie's voice was stuffed that night, but Christine McVie was amazing. I'll never forget her playing Songbird at the end of the night. A sea of lights before her; the purity of an artist alone with her piano. I closed my eyes and made a picture, that is as clear today, as then.

Sap alert!

This trick almost never works

Here's a song i dedicate to those who survived the 80's with their dignity intact.

I hope this sort of thing still happens. In fact if this posts prompts just one person into taking their boom-box outside their loved ones window, in the attempt to woo, who is to say the world wouldn't be a better place! And if it's raining - all the better. I'm sure Cameron Crowe would approve.

Love; I get so lost, sometimes.
Days pass, and this emptiness fills my heart.
When I want to run away, I drive off in my car.
But whichever way I go, I come back to the place you are.

Leave the Gun - take the Cannoli

I was invited out to a local Italian Restaurant tonight. While mulling over my two favourite choices, I decided to break with tradition and choose a yet to be tried, third option.
I was so happy with myself, it didn't bother me that I never enjoyed the meal as much as I would have the original choices - it's nice to know I'm capable of major life changes every now and again :)

Another revelation that came to me this week involved someone a little closer to me. My anger at this person has been brewing for some time, and it appears that his charmed life would continue unchecked. I had nothing to do with his fall from grace, he authored his own demise... still I'm sad. It seems when you take too many things for granted, life will always find a way to remind you who's boss.

Maybe my initial anger followed later by sadness, makes me a hypocrite... I just don't know. I only wish people could learn from their mistakes before they fall - it just never seems to happen that way. Life's the affirmative action type I believe.

In a heavier vein

Shihad perform "One will hear the other"

Like most Kiwi rock, the lyrics will require translation - it's all in the accent apparently. :)
Warning - heavy-ish rock. Not to be taken on an empty stomach.

Time has a way of casting doubt
Life is a cage they let you out
So fly while you can...

So little time don't let it go to waste
Hold your ground don't throw it all away
And take a chance now

More of the same.

This never happens in real life

My birthday is next week.

For some good reasons, best explained between copious bottles of red wine, my birthday is an intense source of discomfort to me.

I have two dates that are used to track my progress through this life; New Years Eve and the 17th of April. The fact that these dates are close together come as a double whammy of sorts, but I seem to survive regardless. It's in my nature to always try to improve in some way; to take on a new skill or hobby, as if not doing so would be admitting to being some kind of finished work. I guess I'm not yet willing to say that "This is all there is to me", even if perhaps some days it feels decidedly so.
With all this in mind I wonder if my search for non-completion is extreme folly; back-filling the missing experiences in my past, to provide a semi solid structure in which to move forward, a colossal waste of time.
I hear people talk around me; their self doubt is a deafening roar some days. I hope people grow to know their worth, to believe in their ability to change and evolve with time. We were a blank slate when we were born, molded by parents and society. In our teens we rebelled as well as we could (or were allowed). No one ever said we couldn't continue to move forward with our internal revolution ; throwing off the shackles of our prejudices and limiting thoughts well into our later years, and by doing so, to become the best we can be.

Just don't use birthdays and the promise of a new year to measure your progress; but if you do, don't forget the red wine; perhaps using more than is socially acceptable.

Sandra J is all grown up.

This is not Tim*.

I could write about Sandra's 40th Birthday, but her sister wrote such a very special piece here, I don't think I could do it any more justice.
What I can say however is that it was a lovely night.
Only in Dunedin could I be invited to a 40th where I would once again meet up with someone I went to school with 26 years ago. To my right, a couple who hugged me when I walked in, and to my left a world famous motorcycle racer who had me smiling all night with his tall tales.
Sandra looked absolutely lovely, catching up with us all - the perfect hostess. Chatting away with her mischievous smile, wine bottle in hand, filling glasses as she stopped to say hello. The evening flowed with lively conversation and much merriment. Nineteen people from almost as many different lives, come together to enjoy the company of a very special person; an exclusive club indeed.

Happy Birthday Sands - I had a ball.

One thing tho. Lets just see if you can keep Tim away from that dress - ok. You know he'd just think he'd look better in it - right? :)

* Tim thinks he has nicer legs

The Setup

Its the setup I fear.
Well meaning people, who "just want me to meet someone nice".
Especially when their idea of lovely doesn't match mine.
And when I already have someone else in mind to measure them against; it just isn't fair on the prospective date. It's just that the one I'm thinking of comes with a long list of pleasant memories, and I'm beginning to worry that no one else will ever come close.
Still, the threat of the setup always looms, and probably when I least expect it.

The Price of Boredom

Vacation Photos from Ironforge.

Not too many sleeps before I head home for a long weekend to celebrate Sandra's 40th birthday. I'm really looking forward to seeing all the crew.

The problem is I'm not sleeping that well of late.

Some months back, desperate for a game for my iMac, I purchased World of Warcraft thinking it was some kind of real time strategy game like Command and Conquer; I was wrong - so very wrong. It turned out that World of Warcraft an online role playing game. While I've always been a fan of "good" Science Fiction, the genre of Fantasy didn't appeal, so for months the game remained unloaded.

Then I got bored, and thought I'd give it a go.

Even after hearing it was pretty addictive, and coupled with a very real risk I'd never get laid again, I pressed on regardless - all the while thinking I would never catch the bug.

A week or two later I found myself dreaming. Walking in a beautiful garden, suddenly the quiet charm was ruined when a lion rushed toward me from nowhere. In desperation I reached for a length of lumber, then realizing I was done for, I dropped the wood, and surrendered to my fate. I woke from my deep sleep with a start - wondering why I was still alive, before realizing it was too late for me.

But perhaps not too late for you. Avoid - less you suffer the same fate. All this was before I'd encountered the Horde.

It is fun tho - in a never getting laid kinda way :)

Doldrums

It's like every post here was leading to this point.
And the point has come and gone - and I'm stuck in some kind of posting doldrums.
Stuck in my posting boat, waiting for a new fish to bite.
Hopefully dragging me off in some new direction.
Kicking and screaming without a doubt.
'tis in my nature you see.

Oh to be Fearless

I always loved this song - I posted it to Youtube a year or so ago, but they deleted it after one day. Goes to show - there's no accounting for taste :)

Sometimes I'm afraid when you go
Sometimes I'm afraid when you come home
Underneath it all ...
I think I'm afraid when there's nothing wrong.
But if I was fearless ...
Could I be your reckless friend
And if I was helpless ...
Could you be the one comes rushing in.
There's something that I never told
When I find myself slipping off of my pedestal
I'm a fierce believer afraid to fall.
But if I was fearless ...
Could I be your reckless friend
And if I was helpless ...
Could you be the one comes rushing in.
Sometimes I'm afraid of the dark
I can't find the light in my heart
I can see my hand pushing away
Hard as I can
But if I was fearless ...
Could I be your wreckless friend
And if I was helpless ...
Could be the one comes rushing in.
Sometimes I'm afraid when you go ...

Distant Sun

So.... the most talented Beatle was John, then George, then Paul.
Or - if you're a rebel maybe George would be first.

I never understood the logic. Paul was, and still is a brilliant songwriter. His critical failure has been both his longevity, and his ongoing success; well in the musical field at least.

Every time I hear Neil Finn, I can't help but think he will be tarred with the same brush.

Still so young to travel so far
Old enough to know who you are
Wise enough to carry the scars
Without any blame, theres no one to blame
Easy to forget what you learn
Waiting for the thrill to return
Feeling your desire burn
As you're drawn to the flame

Tricky

I just found out a family friend in Dunedin had recently split up with her boyfriend. They were living together for a couple of years; owned a house and dog together, but one day the girl just decided she didn't love her partner anymore and moved out.

God - this must be pretty common, but I couldn't help but feel for the guy who obviously still had strong feelings for his partner. I'm happy for her tho - the relationship wasn't giving her what she wanted, so making a clean break was the smart move. Guys need absolutes ladies; giving us ambiguity around relationship issues almost invariably fosters false hope.

At the end of the day, I just hope both of them are happier in the long run.

We are complex creatures - I guess we can only hope to change together over time in order to keep the spark of love alive. It must be an amazing balancing act - I'm in awe of anyone who manages keep their relationships solid. It's not something I've ever managed to do. Staying free of serious relationships is a poor compromise, but it seems to work for me :)

To love and be loved - sounds too good to be true? Perhaps it is, but I still want it that way.

Equality Sucks

Well at least he's worth it.

Gone are the days of hairy chests, gold medallions and belly fat. Men these days seem to be on the fast track to agonising over their facial clensing products, abdominal muscles, and body mass index. When Matthew Fox says he's "worth it" I wonder if it's just me that's reaching for an airsickness bag - I hope not.

I assure you; the less metrosexual of us live in fear of the day we all must stand in line for the back, sack, and crack wax; lest we fail in attacting the fairer sex. It seems obvious we havent learnt anything from our bra burning, armpit haired sisters. Men, through their complacency, have created a society where absolute beauty rules - for either sex.

Its getting worse though; emails by the hundreds in my mailbox. Selling little blue pills and enlarger pumps to ensure you can succeed where you would otherwise surely fail to impress. In a twisted turn of fate, it is now men who get assaulted by billboards "in plain sight" saying they can improve your sexual performance with a nasal delivery system - the mind boggles.

Perhaps it's just easier being single ? :)

Like walking on a wire in the circus

Some songs are just so good - they just have to get posted twice.
Buy the album - it's a classic !

Stiff Upper Lip

Sorry about the crap posts of late - I know I keep promising normal posts will resume - but sometimes I'm not sure what normal is anymore :)
Like most things that throw a spanner in the works of "ones" life, they are not always easily dealt with in a expedient manner. Unfortunately, these things do take time; if it didn't, it wouldn't be a fair representation of the facts at hand. It's always complicated when it matters.

But it's important to understand - I may never get over Mucho Grande!

Scars

We all have them, some less obvious than others. I think the less visible ones are the ones that own us; push us to or from despair. May yours give you strength.

And doesn't that sound familiar? Doesn't that hit too close to home?
Doesn't that make you shiver; the way things could've gone?
And doesn't it feel peculiar when everyone wants a little more?
And so that I do remember to never go that far,
Could you leave me with a scar?

Cars also raced

In 1979 my thoughts of music turned from the Beach Boys and Beatles toward a less savory genre of rock'n'roll. Far from the tunes on the radio, or the music I listened to on the family 3 in 1 stereo - MarkJ had truly moved to the dark side.
I was knocking around with Peter Elliot at the time, and on his bedroom wall was the biggest poster I'd ever seen. Four guys dressed in armor, faces made up in makeup, a bass guitar shaped like an axe ! Who the hell were these guys? They, of course, were KISS - and yes, they sooooo ROCKED.

A few weeks later I dropped around to Peter's place and the poster was gone - I was mortified when he told me he destroyed it - turns out KISS were a bunch of devil worshipers and so he destroyed all their music as well! I didn't have any albums or tapes myself, but I figured if Mum and Dad didn't know KISS were after my virgin soul they wouldn't mind if I brought an album or two with my pocket money. :)

Around this time are much more mature (read: older) Green Street Girl had also discovered the evils of KISS, but had only thrown here tapes in her rubbish bin. Her younger brother Kim kindly sold them to me for a tidy profit. Thanks Di - oh and Mosgiel Presbyterian Church too!

I'm only saying all this because last Sunday, after the Aussie F1 GP, KISS performed for the crowd. It was (excuse my French) fucking amazing. Song after song, memory after memory, 70's until today. All the lyrics stored away on dusty shelves in my mind came out to play once more, and I have a smile that still wont quit days later. I still love those guys. It's not just me either; Eddie Vedder was a member of the KISS Army - Dimebag Darrell was even buried in a KISS casket. It may not be cool to still dig KISS - but I just don't care!

Paul Stanley hit the nail on the head when he spoke to the audience;

This is what Rock 'n' Roll is all about guys
If you want bad news; read a newspaper, or watch the TV
If you want to be be preached to, then you're listening to the wrong fucking band.
We're here to have some fun.
So C'mon people - lets Rock 'n' Roll.

Feels like a Friday

Here I sit - work computer in front of me, and it's insulting me with its Pre SP2 XP-ness. I am in the computing Mesozoic and I miss my iMac.
I endure the grating chime on startup, and the sound of a steam roller on gravel as the hard disk churns just for me. I feel a pang of sorrow for the little green led that blinks in tune with the hard drive din - it must be so tired - it never stops.

How much RAM do you need god dammit?
Always more, Solutions Support tell me; Zombies in disguise - I can hear it in their voices.

The hourglass turns, promising progress, but at what price? My sanity?
Success! No blue screen of death today thank you.

All this effort to log on and say I'm off to Melbourne for a long weekend - and will miss you all.

It was totally worthwhile :)

A good day

I'm on personal excellence training today and tomorrow. This is the view outside the classroom window. Did I mention the classroom is a floating two story pontoon on Auckland's Viaduct harbour?

I arrived early and sat on the edge of the pavilion. With my cup of English Breakfast tea for company I felt the deck rise and fall gently beneath my feet. The sun warmed my face as the salt air lightly brushed past my nose on it's meander to the city; perhaps for a quick one shot trim chai latte. It's all the rage this year.

The first time in a long time I felt rich - and it didn't have anything to do with money.

Time Capsule Blog

Because I'm censoring my posts at the moment, I'm not saying what I should. Years from now this wont matter - my current anger, sadness or frustration - meaningless after its best buy date.

So - I have this idea - a blog site you can send posts to, but only to display them 20 years later.
You've heard of RAM - or read only memory, right? This would be write only memory :)

I think it would make me feel better - knowing I got it out of my system, and that one day someone might sign on for the inane ramblings of a Kiwi male, albeit 20 years after iPod touch's and 50inch wide screen TV's were deemed cool.

This, on the other hand, made me feel better right now.

You're getting sadder, getting sadder, getting sadder, getting sadder
And I don't understand, and I don't understand
But if I kiss you where it's sore
If I kiss you where it's sore
Will you feel better, better, better
Will you feel anything at all

Special K

Because I need to lighten up



And because it would be fun to live in a world where Mena Suvari would actually go out with Jason Biggs. For 3 minutes and 58 seconds, why not join me?

A bigger picture

How many years since you found yourself
Staring at an endless sky?

Unaware of yourself
Who you are and where you're going
Only living
Only breathing
Losing all sense of time

The most fragile of things
Captivates and embraces you
Surrender and be witness
To this rarest of moments

You live within the sense of the order of things
What is truth
What is important
What defines you

No need to fear
No need to worry
About years that passed
About time you lost

Live seconds as a lifetime
Time it does not matter
You live within the sense
Of the stillness of time

More Marrow Me

I went into the woods because I wanted to live deliberately.
I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life,
to put to rout all that was not life; and not, when I came to die,
discover that I had not lived.

- Henry David Thoreau.

Gotta love that marrow!

In truth however, of late, I feel more like someone has been secretly sucking marrow out of me. I'm certain it will pass, but it's almost like life has turned down the "colour knob" just a tad. I've definitely noticed the shift in hue, and I'm actively looking to be happier, but something is missing still.

And to the God of Consumerism - I have sinned: It has been two weeks since my last purchase.
Here I am, hoping it's not that superficial a malaise :)

6 Word Memoir

It's not as easy as it sounds... I'm not sure it's quite right yet but here we go....

Enigmatically fractured, optimistically naive; romantically savant.


Tagged by Ren.

Borrowing, with permission from bookbabie, the following fabulous idea:
What would you say if you had to summarize your life in only six words? Bookbabie got the idea from a book written by Larry Smith and Rachel Fershleiser, Not Quite What I was Expecting: Six Word Memoirs by Famous and Obscure. It is a compilation based on the story that Hemingway once bet ten dollars that he could sum up his life in six words. His words were- For Sale: baby shoes, never worn.

Here are the rules:

1. Write your own six word memoir
2. Post it on your blog and include a visual illustration if you’d like
3. Link to the person that tagged you in your post and to this original post if possible so we can track it as it travels across the blogosphere
4. Tag five more blogs with links
5. And don’t forget to leave a comment on the tagged blogs with an invitation to play!


So- tagging

Green Street Girl
Jacie
Jay

Out damn spot

"I see you have a necklace", she said.
"I do", I replied.
"Why do you wear it on the inside?", she asked.

I thought about it for a second, juggling an answer that a 10 year old might understand.

Time passed....

I thought about my worry around vanity, or an even deeper reason for wearing my necklace under my shirt. Weeks later I find I have no real answer, well at least one I'm ready to admit.

So today the jade necklace remains hidden from view, but I have to admit, it's beginning to bother me :)

Pretty good year

Tori is amazing. The chair's pretty cool as well :)

....they say you are something in those formative years
....hold on to nothing, as fast as you can
Still... pretty good year

Andante

I took Monday off. I worked some long hours and my boss said to take a day away. This happens a lot, but I seldom get time to take time off: yesterday I made time.
I slept in late, and in the afternoon I walked in the sun to a slower tempo than normal.
Today I feel better for the experience, yet a little out of step with the week. I am not inclined to play catchup - it would defeat the purpose.
As an interesting aside I was offered a job today. In the loosest terms I have an opportunity to return south later in the year. I'm unsure if the offered career path is for me, but I'm heading home to Dunedin in April to at least discuss a possible framework.
There is much in Auckland to like; this will not be an easy tune to change.

More Mayer

I have too much stuff. I know that I'm compensating, but sometimes you just cant get what you want. Last weekend I stepped away from the path of rampant consumerism, toward something I truly desired. Although the outcome was expected, I'll never regret it: not for one second.
Life is a journey of twists and turns. The only thing I know is that if there is to be a next time for us, it will be her turn to find me. After all she's "it".

I'm dizzy from the shopping mall
I searched for the joy but i bought it all
It doesn't help the hunger pain
And a thirst I'd have to drown first to ever satiate

Gardenia

Haunting, yet resonant somehow.

Well, I put so much thought into getting ready
Now I know that was the best part
It's so easy to get caught up in what I'm regretting
Forget what I got from a wounded heart

Kudos Miss Moore

Random events

Last year I saw this t-shirt I liked. I found the store that sold the shirts - It was a mission and a half, but I seldom give up when I find something i want. I really need to work on that.

I ordered. I waited. It never came.
I wrote. And wrote again.
They replied. And much later apologized.

The shirts arrived today, and on the card inside was printed the message;

Love this life...
is about celebrating the moment
and that we're not guaranteed
or owed another day
and how cool it is that what we hide
can actually be the fuel towards our glory
and that it's not so bad
to be proven wrong

And after the shittiest of Sundays - this was something I really needed to hear.

More, as it comes to hand; perhaps.

Soup Nazi

You know who you are
No blog for you!
You banned :)

You come back - ONE YEAR!

Tech Support!

David: Do you remember what you told me once? That every passing minute is a another chance to turn it all around.
Sofía: I'll find you again.
David: I'll see you in another life... when we are both cats.

The memory of TT lives on

This clip was an easter egg on the "What we did last Summer" music DVD.
Robbie was pretty much kicked out of Take That, and probably with good reason. Always one to hold a grudge, I believe the song "No Regrets" was written about the incident.

All that aside I love the fact that fellow Take That member Mark Owen ended up on stage for this number. Maybe I'm just a romantic sap, but I like seeing bridges being rebuilt. That and the fact this version is streets ahead of the original number.

Lipstick Sunset

I've always loved this song. Actually - the whole "Bring the Family" Album is worth a listen, if you are open to a little blues with your country.

So we are clear - before you press the play button - it is a COUNTRY song.
(or possibly Western - I always get them mixed up - godammit) :)

Another Cheese Sandwich Post

Although I missed out on NFG's corporate lingerie show earlier in the week, one finds oneself curiously unperturbed. [Upon reflection this is now obviously a point of concern for me :)]

This week Tuesday and Wednesday were spent traveling about the North Island, fixing problems our contractors could not. It's a nice feeling to be useful in a more immediate way; so much of what I do these days is "remote control". Don't get me wrong - I wouldn't like to be "on the tools" full time, but those two days out of the office were a breath of fresh air.

The last two days I've been on the receiving end of some training in personal excellence. I've been pushing for this training for two years now - and now I'm in the midst of it, it's inspiring. There have been a few home truths delivered during the process, but I have really embraced the whole event. It turns out I have a bit to learn about being a leader, but I knew this going in.
The biggest issue for me is the link between productivity and people focus. I'm very much a people person, and I tend to shy away from confrontation. The challenge for me will be to get to the point, and not worry too much about hurting peoples feelings - a difficult balance for me.

It's been pretty full on training, and when asked to summarize the last two days in two words I cracked up the class by immediately saying "Absolutely Wasted".

I may sleep all weekend. :)

Not so Shiny in the Verse

They'll come at you sideways.
It's how they think.
It's how they move.
Sidle up and smile.
Hit you where you're weak.
Sort of man they're like to send believes hard.
Kills and never asks why.

Way to write Mr Weedon

Sideways

Sometimes you can feel the temperature drop
'though you'd swear it was as sunny out as the day before
Being human is a difficult thing
When you're trying to be practical

Character Assassination

I'd like to think I'm a good judge of character but every now and again I find myself taking an instant dislike to a person for no apparent reason.

I wonder what is was about the person that set me off, given this has only happened a handful of times during my life. Months later, when the same person walks into the room I still feel the same way, and it bothers me. Obviously I'm grown up enough to deal with this person in a pleasant and professional way, but afterward I feel like I've compromised myself.

It's much easier to dislike people to a lesser degree. Today I held a door open for someone, and they didn't say thankyou. I believe there is a special hell reserved for those who don't say please and thank you; the lessons their parents taught them years ago, lost to the comfortable anonymity of the big city.

You may think it doesn't matter Mr "no thank you", but I noticed - and believe me, karma's a bitch

My life as a Cigar

Posts here may look bizarre of late. I have to admit I've been pulling some long hours over the last week. Working through the night and sleeping until lunchtime dictates most days start by waking with a headache that just wont quit - but I assure you things are mostly fine once I drag myself out of bed. The worst part will be getting back into a normal sleep pattern once my current project ends.

All this information may explain (in part) the last post. I would be the first to admit that putting Aerosmith up against Kelly Clarkson in the same post may, on first glance, seem to indicate a less than stable mindset. Rest assured, the less than subtle juxtaposition has a method to its madness.

What actually happened, was that I decided to take a "walk" though Youtube, choosing videos as they came to mind. Using the whole six degrees of separation, I took the first and sixth video and posted them together. I think it says as much about my musical diversity, as it does my state of mind.

Sometimes a Cigar is just a Cigar I guess.

Yeah - I don't believe that either. :)

Miss Independant and BiPolar

I don't care what the cool kids say - I like this song.



So in touch with my inner nerd today, yet so self destructive. Not a bad combo for a Tuesday evening, even if I say so myself.

Yeah, I know nobody knows
where it comes and where it goes
I know it's everybody's sin
You got to lose to know how to win

Once

Find this movie - If you love music, it may change your life. *



* results not typical.

Can't plan this.

When Marty and Leeane had their housewarming Tim brought a little gift along on the night. The gift was a count down timer connected to a very, very loud siren.
The plan was to activate the timer just before we left - the timer would start its countdown and activate the siren after two hours. The siren, placed in a cardboard box, was left in a spare room, easily spotted when the time came to stop the noise.
It was harmless fun - what could go wrong?

I actually forgot about the whole thing when I woke the next day, but Tim rang me giggling hysterically. This is what actually happened...

We left at 2:20am, so the siren went off at about 4:30am. The problem was that Marty was so hammered he didn't wake up first; his wife Leeane did. Thinking someone had activated the house security system she keyed in the 4 digit pin code, but by doing this, she actually activated the house security system. Sixty second later the house system triggered and it's siren went off as well. So now two sirens were blaring, and our 30 second prank had just woken all the neighbours.
Convinced that she had put in the wrong pin code for the alarm, Leeane started entering numbers from their previous house's alarm system. After 6 incorrect pin numbers the alarm locked on refusing to accept any more attempts.
At this stage Leeane ran down to the master bedroom and managed to shake an inebriated Marty to life. Of course we didn't realise Marty slept in the nude, but those who slept over that night got an eye-full as he bounded naked down the hall toward the security panel. Realising he was too drunk to follow the complex reprogramming sequence to reset the locked alarm, Marty ripped the security panel off the wall pulling out every cable he could find.
The internal house siren silenced (but not our one), Marty rushed toward the balcony to silence the outside siren. At the last minute Leeane yelled at him to put on her dressing gown, and all the neighbours watched in amusement as Marty stood on his balcony in his wifes favourite pink satin dressing gown, hitting the hell out of the external alarm box with a hammer. Eventually the siren could take no more and plummeted to the ground, one story below, screaming no longer.
It was then, and only then, that Marty heard the siren in the spare room. He opened the cardboard box, pulled off the battery wire, and finally there was silence.

Marty, God bless him, saw the funny side of it all afterward. He even admitted the whole incident broke the ice with all the surrounding neighbours. I'd love to take credit for it all, but I was only guilty by association. Tim retired from housewarming pranks that night; undefeated, at the top of his game - the best way to go.

Actually, come to think of it...I wonder if Tim still still has the answerphone messages made between 4:30 and 4:45am that night. I'm sure any statutes of limitations are long past. If they're about I'll link to them. Please forgive me, but the memory of those messages still make me smile.

Conformity

Years ago a friend introduced me to Pete Murray. I hated the song "So beautiful"; whiny crap, personifying so much of a type of music I used to listen to, but had beaten out of me early in my work years. Work was about conformity you see, not much room for different feelings, attitudes, choices.

It's sad these feelings remain. I'd like to think my musical appreciation had evolved since then. Perhaps, as some sort sort of penance I should offer this Pete Murray song.

Don't be scared of what you cannot see
Your only fear is possibility
Never wonder what the hell went wrong
Your second chance may never come along

No shit sherlock!