The Jamjar

hi Dave (Dave's not here man)

davidc says: you're up late
davidc says: bet your watching porn
Jonathan says: http://www.thejamjar.com/
Jonathan says: yeah
davidc says: um okay
davidc says: are you michelle
Jonathan says: lol... no im not micheele
Jonathan says: i *know*michelle tho
davidc says:  aaaah
Jonathan says: we have the same taste in men...
davidc says: is diego michelle?
davidc says: ~confused~

Jonathan says: lol... really its not me... she is a real other person
davidc says: worst part is picturing you in a dress
Jonathan says: yeah that would be pretty bad... 
Jonathan says:  i dont do to bad in a habit... tho id have to shave
davidc says: ~veryscared~
davidc says:  it sooo is you
Jonathan says: it so not! she is cool tho... does that make me cool too?
davidc says: lol, yeah, cause she's you too

ode to michelle

from eroica

   michelle is smokin'
   michelle is a dangerous thing
   michelle is a teenage bi (maybe i'm in with a chance)
   michelle is a true gift to those in need
   michelle is going to be there with david
   michelle is a highly underrated comic actress
   michelle is the best
   michelle is a teenage bi (maybe i'm in with a chance)

FQ TOPIC: Tasty

FQ1: Your favorite sweet food? When did you last have it?

PAVLOVA.. *mouth watering at the very thought* mmm pavlova. the only thing white marshmellows come second to. I like my white sugar dissolved in eggwhite; light and fluffy with fresh softly whipped cream (but not too much - just the perzact pav=>cream ratio). I can't remember the last time I had pavlova. When I say Pavlova I am not talking about that Cowells store-bought stuff either, I'm talking about homemade pav with a crusty top and gooey light centre that every wicked kiwi housewife can make.

It's a bit like watermelon to my tastebuds - and greed - I can't just have one slice. Oh no.. I keep at it til it's all gone and well.. seeing as a normal Pavlova has 2.5 cups of castor sugar one's waistline could do without THAT. *mouth still watering* so i live in quiet lust for the dessert most often made for Christmas (because i love licking the bowl too) (is really very tragic in some areas of my life)

FQ2: Your favorite salty food? When did you last have it?

I don't really like salt. I don't use it for anymore than seasoning when cooking, and don't put a shaker on the dinner table. I suppose the closest I would get to a salty food are olives. But, are they salty? See people say some things are salty and I don't find them so. Natural body salts are quite nice *mind wandering off down pathways YOU do not need to hear about* and it's been far too long since.. mm licked and mmm...tasted and mm.. *drifts*

FQ3: Your favorite sour food? When did you last have it?

First thing that springs to mind are sour snakes.. but they're not a food. Sweet and sour asian stirfry is nice sometimes - particularly fish when made with fish (worries about this sentence but leaves it be as still weak from thinking about body salts from previous paragraph). I think though, my most favourite sour food'd have to be lemons. I used to eat them as a kid like most people eat oranges. I haven't eaten lemon since I ran out of gin last month.

FQ EDIBLE A: What's the best thing you've ever tasted?

A pinot noir. I read the label but have never been able to recall the name or find it's like. But the things that wine did to the insides of my mouth, the way it smoothed across my tongue and warmed my heart and head will stay with me for years.

FQ EDIBLE B: The most horrible thing you've ever tasted?

Liver.. always liver. and kidney..arg.. the texture of cooked kidney *gag* hate hate HATE it. actually anything from that part of an animal.. offal and animal arseholes go against my "never put anything in your mouth that isn't delicious" Life Rule. *breaking the rule and eating it lately cos it's good for me* *grimace* oh.. the other thing that tastes FOUL is that horrible flushing stuff they make you drink before a colonoscopy. I can't even describe how hard you have to concentrate to get THAT down your throat only to have it explode out your other end with firey violence 30 minutes later. Like when Apu cleans out all the grease from the hotdog cooker and so Homer "can taste is the hog anus".

okay i'm going to stop typing now because there was a line that was crossed and I'm not even scolling back to find it.

Friday Q

That'll be in the Herald on Sunday

Lunatics in charge of the boardrooms

You always suspected it, but now there is scientific evidence - many bosses are psychopaths who shouldn’t be allowed to look after a cat, let alone staff.

A recent British study, backed by psychologists and management consultants here, found that a sample of senior executives scored higher on measures of histrionic, narcissistic and obsessive-compulsive personality disorders than a group of disturbed criminals. These personality disorders are characterised by superficial charm, lack of empathy and perfectionism.

However, unlike the criminals, the managers scored much lower on antisocial, borderline and paranoid personality dimensions, characterised by aggression, impulsiveness and mistrust.

The findings are no surprise to Auckland counsellor Dr John McEwan, who helps at least one person a week traumatised by toxic bosses. In the workplace, they become bullies, terrorising staff with abusive and manipulative behaviour, and creating a climate of fear. He said the key to picking psychopathic behaviour is their warped logic, a lack of empathy, and a refusal to take responsibility for problems.

Management consultant Andrea Needham advocated better recruitment and ongoing leadership and mentoring programmes to stop the problem.

- HERALD ON SUNDAY

Good lord, here's another link to Dr John McEwan's website. I can't look away.

Adventures for Scardy Cats

Did I mention I am boring? I am boring. borrring.. god.. i bore myself so much somedays. I decided to make a list of things that might make me less boring, at least to myself if not to anyone else. Seemed a lot of things on my list were activities and physical - one of them was to snorkle at Goat Island.

I've been trying to write this post for a while now.

I've been able to tell people in words - with my mouth/words - about my List of Adventures but have so far failed to get it out via text. I have a headache this morning [damn Kiwis losing to the Kangaroos last night at Sun Corp Stadium] and Jeff Buckley on the iTunes so I'll give it another go.

A while ago [no, I'm not going to find the post and link back to it, you should've been paying attention] [oo this headache's making me mean] I was lamenting my lack of activity in the weekends - felt weekends weren't weekends and I wasted a lot of my time in my pyjamas. So, I came up with a plan: The Adventure List. Which is exactly what it sounds like: a list of things/adventures that I've always wanted to do [and in some cases, done] with the thought that I'd do at least one thing per month [keeping it real, people] and I was allowed to repeat listed items if I had fun doing them.

Now, I'm not going to post my list here because I have enough people laughing at me as it is and you don't need the mental image of me hauling my flat arse up an indoor rockclimbingwall - but I've managed to do one item on the list already (go me) and I posted the photos (see Goat Island/Goat Island the sequel) below. Of course, if you'd been one of the people I've spoken to you'd know what that was all about but if you are a visitor here you wouldn't cos - well - I didn't post any words to go with the photos.

My ex-husband has been trying to get me up to Goat Island for years and of course, we don't do anything he wants to, right? right. That's why we're divorced! But he hasn't nagged me about it for a while so, in typical brat fashion, I decided it was *my* idea, and bundled up a thermos of Milo, a banana or two (i'm a kiwi picnic'r) my mask, snorkle, snaffled flippers and David and drove the 90 minutes up to Goat Island, just out of Liegh North of Warkworth. So, you know where it is now too.

We went last Friday. I wanted to get up there before the official school holidays started because I'd heard this marine reserve was super busy at the best of times. That, and any excuse to slack off on a brilliantly fine Friday workday. It was easy to find - there were hardly any people there - a dozen cars in the carpark at best, and the weather was perfect.

Now, I haven't snorkled in years. YEARS. I think the last time I did was in Fiji in 1998. I'm naturally bouyant, but completely afraid of deepwater and swaying kelp [alert: chicken in the water!] I hear the soundtrack of Jaws in the back of my head the entire time I'm in the water, I can't equalise so can't dive down too deep or stay there for long and to make me the undisputed Queen of the Wusses, I also tend to get seasick. I know.. pathetic isn't it? But there I am, in the water - which was warm enough so no need for a wetsuit - forgetting how scared I can get, how tight that fist in my chest can be [mantra: don't remember the eel incident from Rarotonga don't remember the eel incident from Rarotonga] mask suctioned to my face, snorkle jammed in my mouth (nozzle pointing *into* the water until I figured out how to twist it round the right way) snorkling at Goat Island.

And it's completely brilliant!

So many fish. A little murky - it's not clear like it is in the tropics but considering how cold NZ waters can get it was absolute bliss.

me: fish are a lot like cats.
dave: in that they run away when they see you coming too?

We noticed the "do not feed the fish" signs and of course, we didn't *coughs* we didn't bring frozen peas with us and we didn't put them in David's pockets, and we didn't stream them out across the surface of the water to attract a fish feeding frenzy - because that would be wrong.

We did, however, take photos. Greg has an old Nikonos underwater camera from his diving days and I snaffled it that morning on the way past his house. It's completely manual and you never know what's going to come out and what's not. We rattled off a roll of film and I'll post the pics as soon as I get round to developing (how very 1998) the film.

Dave and I snorkled for hours. Hours and hours. After a while I noticed we were practically the only people left at Goat Island and definately the only people still in the water. The sun was getting lower and I thought maybe it might be time to start thinking about leaving. We sat up on the beach, each wearing the pressure marks of our masks, wrapped in sunwarmed towels, sipping hot milo and talking about what we'd seen. How great it was, and how we should come back real soon.. and made a return date for Sunday.

So we did it all again on Sunday and swam out deeper and saw even bigger fish. Took another roll of film [god film is so expensive] and drank more milo on a more overcast beach. There were a lot more people on the Sunday - the marine reserve is so accessable you can't blame people for coming to see. You can see fish without ever getting wet - standing on the rocks you can see the brilliant blue mau mau schooling around the surface. It's completely brilliant.

me: gecko are a lot like cats.
dave: god, mum, you think everythings like cats!

This weekend, my adventure is more sedate. I'm taking photos for my 26 Things. I've done this twice before [see button'd links in the sidebar] and know how much time/work it can be. Again, bundling David up we visited the Museum yesterday with my intention of sketching while he wandered the exhibits. We ended up sticking together and not doing any sketching but taking photos (he's doing the 26 things too). I really do enjoy that boy's company.

So, I still have my headache, but I'm feeling less mean about it. Mouse is in the hallway trying to disembowel a rubber duck, Jeff Buckley's been replaced by The Veils on iTunes and it might be time to ditch the pjs for the camera and go take some more photos to flesh out my 26 Things before it starts raining again.

Have a groovy weekend, people. You deserve it.

FQ TOPIC: Pet

FQ1: Any pets as a kid?

As a kid I seemed to always be asking to be able to keep some animal or other. The first pet I can remember was a ginger cat called, funnily enough, Ginger. Technically not *my* cat I suspect, but according to the Laws of Nature, all items/animals/people I like in my house/home/vacinity belong to me. Me.. you understand? ME! There were tropical fish too but after the whole lounge-flooding-incident we never did have any more.

I had a budgie named Ollie who didn't mind being under the blankets with me, my torch and my book late into the night. He used to sit on my head and groom my long blonde hair. There was a guinea pig who virtually lived in my school blazer pocket by day as I'd smuggle him to school. Funny how animal poo didn't worry me so much back then. Mice, always with the mice - I seemed to like mice a LOT and often. God how they smell to my grownup nose. Caterpillers/butterflies/tadpoles/stray kittens/feral kittens/mice did I mention mice? those field ones are *fast*.

Moving out into my own place and I had another cat - she used to come running with me and would get *really* pooped. So would I so we would flake out on the grass together. She ended up running away due to an abusive flatmate. Then there was Hilary - named for her climbing abilities. She was a domestic long haired cat and I had her for about 14 years before I had to put her to sleep when she failed to cope with sudden blindness. She was a lovely cat. She suffered through me picking up strays - Frances (tabby cat), James, Russell (both ginger females) - she minded Russell the least.

Now I have Mouse.. and she's growing out of kittenhood rapidly.

FQ2: Any pets now?

Mouse - Best Cat in the World. Black tabby with razor sharp claws which she used with precision the other week to rip my contact lens while it was still in my eye. Her latest attention seeking behaviour involves clawing the small of my back until i *have* to respond. She used to play fetch - now she only plays fetch when she misses catching the toy. She leaps and twists in the air to catch the toy in her paws.

In the last week I've let her go outside and she's taken to it like a duck to water.. or like a cat to the outdoors! I am overprotective and worry that she'll get lost so insist she wears a collar with a bell while she's outside. She doesn't mind the collar anymore because she knows it means she is about to be let out and runs to the door after I put her collar on waiting for me to open it then she's *gone* in a blur of black speed.

She comes back into the house every 15-20 minutes to tell me all about outside. She jumps up onto my desk and *meowmeowmeow* tells me *pat pat* all about it *purr purr* I smooch her and she's gone again on another adventure.

FQ3: Name your favorite famous pet from television or movies.

I didn't really like stories with animals.. shows like Lassie and Black Beauty used to make me cry. And don't even remind me of the Snow Goose *lower lip tremble* oh god *cry*.

Probably my favourite pet from television was K9 from Dr Who.

FQ BEST FRIEND: If money and legality were not a barrier, what exotic animal would you like as a pet?

I'd like a Polar Bear as a pet. He can stay as wild as he likes so long as he likes me and doesn't try'n remove my contact lenses or liver or anything like that.

Amour d'armure

I told you it was beautiful.

Progress

Scientists solve unpopped popcorn

The nuisance kernels have kept many a dentist busy, but their days could be numbered: Scientists say they now know why some popcorn kernels resist popping into puffy white globes. ...read the rest of the article... you know you want to...

oh thank god they found *that* out!

Tuesday Movie: Sahara

Dear Santa,

I'm writing you early this year so as to give you lots of time to organise my Christmas gift. I have been, and continue to be a very good girl, so am completely sure you will be overwhelmingly happy to grant my Christmas wish.

I'd like to bring to your attention the fact I only want one christmas present. I'm not being greedy or wasting the Earth's precious resources by needing fancy packaging - my present can be delivered in a natural state with no need for packing peanuts or bubble wrap. I promise to take good care of my gift and actually, won't need another - if granted this one - in my lifetime.

So you see, Santa - by delivering Matthew McConaughey to me on Christmas [preferably in the style of his character, Dirk Pitt* from Sahara] morning will actually save you time and effort in the long run.

your selfless and devoted believer,
Michelle.

What a rollicking good movie. Not rocket science - not even good continuity but a good time, that's for sure.

*wow, that's a really manly name!

PS: Rosie is the Queen of the Internet (nice boobies) - McConaughey's "Sahara" Stream Journals (he's not packing peanuts)

Rosie says: I found it googling for the incident that was all news when we were in austin texas, where he got caught stoned playing bongos in the Nuddie.

O. M. G.

Adobe Systems agrees to buy Macromedia for $3.4 billion

Sunday Night Horrors

The perfect antidote for the scare-mongering Are You Ready? on Channel One - thank God for Blade 2 (he's always ready- I bet he has his emergency 3 litres of water per person per day stashed somewhere close by his transistor radio and batteries).

sweet ninja vampires *sighs happily*

Goat Island - The Sequel

Goat Island

Goat Island Marine Reserve

You get paid how much to work at TVNZ?

OMG.. did anyone catch How Normal Are You on TV1 last night? This was my first Wednesday IN in weeks (been teaching night classes on a Wednesday evening) and I was looking forward to watching Lost.

My remote is stuffed.. dropped 50 too many times and although the sellotape is holding the whole thing together, the buttons are a bit alziemic sometimes skipping channels (only has a forward and back arrow to access the four channels) sometimes switching the tv OFF when all I wanted was to channel surf. ANYWAY. That's beside the point except I couldn't get off Channel One fast enough.

Could they DESIGN A LAMER INTERACTIVE SHOW? I don't think so. Test the Nation was borderline and yes I did do the last one but at least it only lasted one evening.. this new one goes on for weeks!

Jeebus H Creamcracker.. how abnormal is TVNZ. What a pack of DINOSAURS! (they should be in elearning) Take a concept..albeit not a great concept to begin with.. suck every last ounce of fun from it, stick Kate "my kids cut my clothes with pinking shears but I'll wear them anyway" Hawksby in front of it and Wednesday nights become "how many ways can I gouge my own eyeballs out with a spoon rather than watch this CRAP" nights.

Oh dear Lord, it goes on for 10 weeks and i only have TWO EYES and ONE SPOON!!

Lost is dumb too - so much promise, so little followthrough. I've decided Wednesdays are a rightoff. Thank goodness I am back to working Wednesday nights ASAP.

Make google talk

Google says:

the jam jar is in GOOD condition with no chips cracks or crazing. Very minor wear to the gold trim. but no chips/ or cracks. There is a small cardboard box, with a lid. and steam for minutes, Variations: did did did did DID DID DID DID DID DID DID DID

Spell with Flickr

I know you are but what am I?

me: I'm Sharon Strezlecki
David: mum.
me: *pointing to my imaginary "pash rash" and quoting Sharon* Hi Mrs Kay, I've been home with my boi friend *finger circles pointing to my pash rash*
David: .mum.
me: no wait.. I'm not really Sharon Strezlecki - do you know who is *really* Sharon Strezlecki?
David: *sigh* who?
me: *hushed whisper* Aunty Jo.
David: _mum_
me: what?
David: I hate to break this to you, but..
me: what??
David: neither you *nor* Aunty Jo is funny enough to be Sharon Strezlecki.
me: ...

(turns out I'm Kim (keem) .. which character are you?)

The first step..

Hi

My name is Michelle

and I'm a watermelonaholic.

I can't help myself. It's a sickness! this isn't even *good* watermelon. It's cucumbery! I can say no to chocolate.. no problem. I can say no to alcohol.. yes I can - I can too - I CAN BLOODY SO! I have even been known to say no to sex on the very rare occasion but I cannot_say_no_to_watermelon.

*watermelon-bloated moan*

Great Mates

Sabaki 5

Movie: Robots

Let's get the movie review (for want of a better word) out of the way first - Robots: an excellent example of beautiful animation and equisite rendering. Ok, I'm done. No, no.. don't worry about the story, don't worry that it falls between the cracks, albeit lovingly, between adult and child so neither *really* likes it. It's beautifully detailed right down to the last nut and bolt. :)

The really good news is there's going to be an Ice Age 2!

The very *very* best bit was that I saw it at the Circle Lounge.

!!

What do you mean you don't know what the Circle Lounge is?

Ok.. stay right there - I have to clean up my lounge and hang washing on the line and all that fun stuff then I'll come back and tell you allll about it.

mind my posy.

brb

*afk*

FQ TOPIC: Beauty

FQ1: Where's the most beautiful place you've ever been? What made it beautiful to you?

I've been sitting here debating between the coral reefs in Fiji and the coastline of Taranaki.

One one hand, the coral reefs in Fiji are undeniably beautiful. Snorkling there yields wonderful visuals of fish and colour that no film can capture. I was amazed when i went to Fiji how photos I had seen of it (which showed the Islands to be tropical and beautiful) paled in comparison to the real thing. And that's saying something because those travel brochures don't exactly slouch when it comes to showing their resorts in the best light. And when does that ever happen these days? it's usually the other way around - there is no disappointment in Fiji. But getting out into the water's where it's at - and I can't think of anything more colourfully beautiful than the reefs and fish I saw when snorkling.

And this is the bit where you decide I'm nuts I think - because the Taranaki coastline has actually won in my brain for "most beautiful", especially in the winter. What I love is the feeling of isolation you can have there when you're not isolated at all. The beach I am thinking of is strewn with boulders worn smooth by the rivers that have taken them there. Finding a place to sit amongst the rocks, one under me and one at my back - a break from the wind. The waves crashing against the rocky shore. The rocks, the shoreline, the waves, the sky - painting bands of grey on grey until the colours start to change as the sun gets low, then lower, then dips into the ocean. Watching the sunset take the light away from the beach and leaving the warmth in the rocks.

That's beautiful.

FQ2: Who's the most beautiful person you can think of? What makes them beautiful to you?

The most beautiful person I can think of has the smoothest skin. My fingertips glide over his skin and it's silky warm. Especially his face - his cheekbones and brow. Fingertips over his uncomplicated, perfect eyebrows that make his eyes close and cause him to sigh. He has the most expressive mouth with the most wonderful smile I can hear in his voice and see in his eyes. His arms are long, and his legs straight. He has beautifully large hands - strong and gentle at the same time. He smells devine. Nuzzling against his soft skin and breathing him in is what heaven must be like. I could live the rest of my life in the curve where his neck meets his shoulder.

He is beautiful because people love him. He is beautiful to me because he lets me be one of them.

FQ3: What's the most beautiful object you've ever looked at? What makes it beautiful?

I see beautiful things every day. The constrast between the golden leaves of the tree outside by window against the brilliant blue of the sky. The way the blinds in my lounge slice up the image of outside into long horizontal slivers of colour. The glowing whiteness of the yachts on the river as the heavy thunderclouds hang in the sky above. The way peoples faces move and change as they speak. The subtle shadows on your face that define your nose.

But a thing.. one thing.. one thing that I find beautiful to answer this question. I know what I want to show you but I don't have the right words and/or internet links to give a proper answer. And I'm not even sure where I saw it - was it at the V&A in London? was it at the British Museum? was it at Te Papa? Wherever it was, it was a Samurai Warriors armour. His kit, his gear. The layers of textures; of leather and metal and cloth. the earthy worn tones of a suit worn and used. The segmented parts that allowed for greatest movement and some protection. And his sword.. his beautiful sword. Besides the wonderful carving and simple detailed decoration of it's hilt and handle's leather weave - the utter beauty of the folded metal. The waves of subtle greys repeated along it's length showing where the swordsmith has hammered and folded and crafted the sword. thousands of hours of work to temper the metal into this magnificent thing.

I can't describe it - I don't have the knowledge or the words or the ability to. Your eyes need to find such a thing and soak it up and store it away.

FQ LIST: Tell us ten more beautiful things! When you think of "beauty," what one thing comes to mind for the following words:
music: Street Spirit - Radiohead
movie: Hero
book: Large, glossy, expensive Atlas.
meal: heapings of fresh brightly coloured stir fried vegetables on noodles
gemstone: Aquamarine
flower: white lilies on green stalks
web site: Switch Interactive
artwork: paintings by toulouse lautrec (esp. this, and very this)
appliance: espresso coffee machines
animal: my cat, Mouse.

Against Some Odds

I think the late Princess Diana must be in charge of Admissions in heaven and is scheduling intakes to maximise the disturbance to her ex-husband's wedding plans. First they had to move it a day for the Pope's funeral, (glad I'm not in the royal memorabilia mug making businss) now they have their honeymoon interrupted for Prince Rainier's. (even the weather has it in-for-them)

Exhibit A

26 Things!!

A cat with a cat in a hat

Job Application

Dear Your Royal Highness,

I am writing in response to the vacancy advertised in the Monaco Royal Mail for Princess to Your Majesty.

I have recently completed a 5 year degree at the University of Switzerland gaining a Masters Degree in Royal Protocol, majoring in Paparazzi Management and Handbag Co-ordination. [attached: Thesis "Royalty in the Millenium: Looking Busy to Justify Exsistance - It's a Good Thing"]

Working with various royal families during my years in college has seen my rapid rise through the royal ranks, gaining favour in the Courts of Europe and lending a willing ear and, at times, an eager mouth to gain experience in the ways of royal households. Until recently I have been shortlisted as New Mistress to the British Prince but unfortunately, the scope of that appointment has grown into areas that are at odds with my core values and clash with my allergy to horse hair.

As your Princess I would appear demur and attractive in public, constantly aware that it is you who is in the spotlight and will work tirelessly to ensure you are always photographed in the best possible light. I will work in the skiing off-season on such noble charity events such as Gamblers Anonymous and Gucci Shoes for Africa. In our private chambers, however, I will be quite the saucey wench as your tastes require. My Hope Chest has a large selection of costumes, equipment, aids and knot-tying manuals that will see your need to take a mistress staved off for many years. I have skills in verbalisation, extroversion, domination and have had some experience in menage-a-trois if the need arises. As your Princess I will be your complete whore in the bed chamber, Your Majesty. [attached: references.pdf]

My fertility test results and ovulation charts are attached [attached: fertility.pdf] and as you will note, my curvatious hips are more than adequate for producing at least one heir. If at any time I am required to take a lover, my professionalism will ensure discretion and any impregnation resulting in pregnancy will be dealt with in a swift and efficient manner.

I am available for interviews at your convienience. I am looking forward to hearing from you and to discussing how my talents and attributes might be an asset to your reign.

yours sincerely
[the future Princess] Michelle.

Tuesday Movies

Deep Blue is a [kinda] documentary originally produced for the British TV series The Blue Planet.

Beautiful, beautiful shots of the oceans and it's inhabitants. Amazing to see a movie-screen sized albatros head or polar bear profile. Great shots of fish and corals and sharks and whales and worms and crabs and seals and dolphins and penguins and.. great close ups, great macro shots, fabulous undersea panoramas, amazing waves, water water beautiful water.

But the music was all a bit much - a bit too grand and old fashioned. I knew before going in the narration was going to be light on facts and concentrating more of the "emotion of the ocean" but after a short period of time it was facts I wanted. Where is David Attenborough when you need him?

Hell in a handbasket, Michelle.

So, the Pope's dead. [I get 16 points on the Deathpool (forget I said that) (100 - deceased age = points awarded - ah.. forget i said that, too) but then so did three others (and that; forget that.), but it's a start.] We seem to be going through a lot of Popes in my lifetime - or is it just me? I might be Pope-sensitive. Maybe if they started younger men off on the road to Popedom we'd see their reign (?) last longer. Though I understand Pope John Paul II was the youngest Pope ever appointed. With the appointment of his successor I'll be on my fourth Pope! given my age I might even see a fifth and sixth Pope during my lifetime but then again - the internet told me I would die in my 60s so, maybe not. That's quite a few Popes for one lapsed Catholic girl.

I'm not very sure what a Pope does. Oh yeh, I know he's God's representative on Earth but what does he really *do*? [might read some of his speeches and writings and get back to you with thoughts at a later date] He just seemed to sit a lot. And talk to people out of his window. And travel around in his Popemobile. I think he was afraid of flying - he kissed tarmacs a lot. They said Pope John Paul II will be remembered for his "sardonic wit". wtf? Didn't notice that about him. Maybe I should pay more attention to the next one.

Speaking of dead stuff, I went to see Constantine at the movies on Saturday. I didn't see the third and final installment of The Matrix, but I'm guessing Constantine was Neo's next gig. He seemed jaded from all that fighing machines and living underground and the whole confusing "online/offline" thing. I'm guessing Trinity must've left him for Morpheus afterall, because Neo was kind of bitter and twisted (in a Keanu kind of way) and changed his name to John Constantine.

Seems he also developed an obssessive compulsive disorder involving distilled water and kept lots of it in his (for want of a better word) apartment. I was very interested to see he needed drawers too - I suppose even extraordinarily psychic types need somewhere to keep their socks.

But that's not what I really wanted to talk about.

I wanted to talk about how this movie didn't completely suck. I didn't expect to ever see this movie. Yes, I know: I see most Keanu films and have been known to go to movies just to watch him run. But I think I'm finally growing out of him and had no urge whatsoever to see his latest flick.

Constantine is a movie about a man who can see demons and angels, or rather, the half-breed whisperers who walk the earth to sway mankind to good and evil over a game played between God and the Devil. He's a chain-smoking (Keanu can smoke about as well as he can say "fuck") grumpy bastard (he doesn't do grumpy very well either) who hunts down and exorcises the not-scary-at-all ratbags and send them back from wence they came. John Constantine has been to Hell and he doesn't like the looks of it and is trying to buy his way into God's good graces and exclusive club by grumpily helping fight the good fight. He meets and hooks-up-with (not in the vernacular) the very attractive ( and experienced: she chased and was chased by a lot of other-worldly stuff in The Mummy and it's sequel) Rachel "I have great calf muscles" Weisz. She is smart - even wore the right kind of shoes and bought the right kind of laptop. She's a devout Catholic which, of course, causes her not to see truth and has a bit of trouble with the whole "I like walks in the rain, cuddling, and slaying demons" thing that John Constantine is all about.

I didn't know anything about this character before seeing the movie and I didn't know it was based on a comic or anything. Hell, I wanted to see Deep Blue and all the fish! but I saw Constantine, and it didn't completely suck. It wasn't anything special either, mind you, so don't go rushing off to the next screening. Just, you know, if you're in the foodhall at Botany and you've finished your sushi and it's hot outside and if you go home you have to help your son move out, then yeh, I say take the escalator up to the movie theatre and if Robots haven't started yet, go see Constantine.

And a note to movie makers everywhere: Keanu can't act, bless him. God knows I love him, but he just can't. This part could've been really dark, and deep, and possibly even a tiny bit scary.. but it was never going to be any of those things with Hollywood's prettiest piece of aging wood. You've wrecked Scanner Darkly by casting him too, haven't you?

Just say no.

PS:
# re: Constantine Review rachael mcgee Posted @ 3/16/2005 2:29 AM
I did not like this movie, it makes no sense. Why can he see these wierd aliens from mars and yet we can not. i was thinking about it all the way home but i still could not get to grips with it. sureley if there were aliens on this planet the fbi would know about them or something, it just doesnt make sense. And also why is neo from the matrix acting like someone completel;y different, i thought he could dodge bul;lets and stuff. Do u know how long it took my frend tom to explain the movie to me and for me to understand it. and now neo goes and starts acting like someone else, god its so confusing. And also why is angelila jolie a human and yet in sharks tale she is a FISH. A FISH! omg films r so stupid and i love my unproportionally large boobies. thankyou george lucas.

7 Things About Mouse

1) she loves watching Formula One racing on television
2) she can play fetch
3) she foodges and affectionally headbutts me
4) she's warmer and softer than I ever imagined she could be
5) she snuggles next to me in the mornings
6) she can get out of the toilet faster than she can get into it
7) she and the puppy play together for hours until they're both worn out

Just as well this isn't a photoblog

Pulling my Warriors' cap over my unruly hair on my way out the door this afternoon's game, I thought I'd leave my camera/telephoto lens behind because it is a bit bulky, and I was trying to travel light [$30 cash and lipstick]. And wished, no less than 5 times before I got home, that I'd been able to take a photograph of some of the things I saw today:

1) Wairangi Koopu giving us (East Stand supporters) the thumbs-up after scoring or assisting tries in todays match. The Warriors beat the South Sydney Rabbitohs 46 -14 *that's my team!!*
2) The extra tiny, extra young, unsticking-plastered cheerleaders and their pompoms (sorry Chris, I'll do better next time)
3) Brent Webb in dark suit trousers, white shirt (top buttons undone) FOUR FEET AWAY FROM ME!! NO, I mean.. no.. I didn't pounce on him like those *other* women.. I'm one of the *cool* fans.
4) Baby sparrow hoppiting along the footpath between feets of fans leaving Ericsson. (chased the birdlet under a boulder to save him from being trampled)
5) Band of red t-shirted youth marching for celibacy "Self Control is the best Contraception" (they all walked at an uptight pace)

Cheese-and-crackers, Grommet! Camera goes EVERYWHERE I go. OK?

(PS: admire my rosey glow - yes, it's Autumn and I got sunburnt. It's still hot here in Auckland)

Picking things up and putting things down

Not many words around these parts lately. No new pxts. I'm taking lots of photos lately but I've not posted them here. I'm picking things up and putting them down again. Wandering about. Restless. Bored. I think that's it - I'm bored. It happens so rarely in my life it's taken a while to figure it out.

It's not like I'm not busy. Because I am. But I'm not doing what I want to be doing. Not doing it with with who I want to do it with. Heh, though in saying that Klie tells me that's not "bored" but "impatient". He may be right.

Everything feels so transitional. Between. Corridor'y. Pick a door, any door - c'mon Michelle.

Can you get 'flu in your shoulders? I think my shoulders have the 'flu.

So it's Saturday. It's sunny. Last of the summer weather, I suspect. While other parts of the country seem to have had frosts this morning, the sun was up and beaming early here in the City of Sails and it was quite hot walking around Bucklands Beach.

I was thinking I need to inject some adventure into my weekends beyond alternating cheering Ferdinand Alonso around the track and trying to get Brent Webb to notice me - though tomorrow's gonna be good with a Warriors home game *and* the Bahrain Grand Prix.

Cheese and crackers, Grommet; I have a "to do" list - I have to produce some artwork too. Registered to exhibit in the Affordable Art Show this year and still with not an inkling of anything to show. And planned to go to Wellington for the opening. Oh, *plus* needing to produce enough work to share an exhibition space in November. OH, and a school reunion in June/July [read: booze-up in New Plymouth]. Plus teaching classes at the local college again next term [probably]. Plus the other bits-and-pieces I do each week and that pesky thing called "work" that takes my time away from everything else.

Arg.

I want to go live on the West Coast of Australia. Where my cost of living will be something like: the price of milk and good coffee. Where the sands are soft and white, and the Indian Ocean has nothing scary in it. [shush - no salt-water crocodiles or sharks or snakes or box-jellyfish - this is my dream] On a quiet crescent of a beach, with a house with no walls and lots of bright coloured fabrics and furnishings. With a beautifully spaceous studio looking out over the water and fresh fruit for lunch. And definately no mosquitoes or other biting creepy crawlies.

Okay, yeh, I don't know what I want. Well I do, but I don't know how to go about getting it.

What should I do to give myself a kick in the butt and out of this feeling of transition?

[looking at Old Jam I'm thinking this restlessness is typical and seasonal]