November 2008
Another year wasted.
1st November 2008 - Feast of All Saints.
Where'd I get to. Wednesday I had lunch with Midget. It was pleasant.
Thursday I had dinner at Alana's, and inflicted this awesome music video on her.
Friday, after morning tea with a few guys from that religious group I see a lot of, I went to my brother's and picked up my bike. Turns out I'd not ridden in a bit too long, and afterwards was more than a little worse for wear. I then fall asleep in the early stages of making lunch, so didn't serve lunch until about 4:30 in the afternoon. Just as I was starting to eat it, JWs arrived so I ate while holding a bible on my lap. By the time they left, I was already over an hour late to Bridget's birthday. But such things are slow starting and after a bit more pottering about getting ready than was really needed, I got there only a bit over two and a half hours late, which turned out to be the perfect time to get there. Costume laziness meant I was wearing pretty much my usual clothes, but with a soft toy octopus on my head. I think only one person through all the night Bridget's party got the Cthulhu thing. On the way home I swung past Aaron's Halloween party at his flat. While it led to seeing a big bunch of people who actually knew what my costume was, it also led to it smelling of beer and smoke. Stupid people.
Which gets me to today, which has been spent sleeping or dozing while listening to the audiobook of American Gods, which I've now finished and which is much creepier as an audiobook than it is as a novel. I seem to be giving up on reading Neuromancer as it is proving to much for me, it may have to go on the list of things to read again when I have my brain back.
3rd November 2008 - Wenefred, V. and Mart.
I think Richard Dawkins may be crossing the line, if what this article says is a correct representation. A conscious attempt to destroy the magic of childhood but seems bitterly mean spirited. While I must admit that I agree with him that labelling children is their parent's religion is ridiculous, the concept of censoring fable and folk tale for being unscientific is troll logic.
That said, there is a lot of troll logic in the world these days. John Key getting Christian fundamentalists to convince Pacific voters to back him. Actually, I think that one mostly bugged me because there was an old man at quiz last night arguing that gay teachers in schools were just as bad as murderers as teachers. While, I admit, it's not an issue I've any real interest in, it was a reminder as to just how much bigotry we still have in the world.
The news media here is pissing me off too. They are presenting private members bills as if they'd been Labour party policy. It bugs me. A lot. Partially as it is letting take the credit for things that were its babies, and partially as it'll lead many idiots to vote for the Nats on false pretence (I've no problem with people voting Nats if they actually know what they are voting for (that said, the Nats have been a bit thin on actual release of policy, so I guess bugger all people actually know except those at the top of the party)). I'm becoming less and less of a believer in democracy - simply because most people are stupid.
The problem with not liking democracy is that the alternatives are worse.
I'm political ranting. That may be a first.
Normally, I just rant.
Too much time around the Jesus crowd in its various flavours recently probably isn't helping either. I'm very much falling in to the "god deserves to be rebelled against, coz he's a cunt and makes us suffer just for shits and giggles" camp. I'm not quite sure how long it's been happening for, but it hit me in the middle of last night (when weird drug induced dreams went and woke me up). That I started this entry by being anti-atheist doesn't mean I'm politician-ing. I just don't see religious fundies and angry atheists as being quite as different from each other as they think that they are.
I'm rambling about shit. I think I ought give up and write in this thing again some other day.
I realised, when checking this thing had uploaded for the first time in a while, that I've been keeping it for more than ten years. I flicked back to look at its beginnings. Someone should have shot me. 18 and 19 year old me had no right to exist while being that retarded, excitable and generally embarrassing. The young really do have nothing going for them. Someone should kill them all.
We are, as the Columbia University sociologist W. Phillips Davison once pointed out, very susceptible to the notion that others are more persuadable than ourselves.
5th November 2008.
I'm looking at my window at snow. Ah, Dunedin weather.
And I just received a phonecall from my GP's office cancelling my appointment (though apparently for non-snow reasons). A bit annoying as I was up and in the process of getting myself there and would really rather have been in bed still. I also kind of need to sort some stuff with him, my meds just aren't settling down the way they they ought be.
Having spent the last two days in my house, I've now finished Neuromancer and confirmed I'll have to read it again when I can actually follow it. Otherwise I've done bugger all of note. I mostly just rant at Simon or Anson over the internet. Anson seems amused by it, at least.
Woot, mail came and I received a parcel from Swansea. My ridiculously expensive, signed and numbered, collectors editions of The Graveyard Book arrived, complete with slipcase. I'm very happy with it, even if it did cost more than a volume of the Absolute Sandman for something much smaller and one regular matte paper with plain black ink. It's signed by both Neil and Dave (weirdly, the adult version illustrated by Dave has more pictures than the UK children's version).
I was jusy sitting here being too distracted by a new chip out of one of my teeth to read my book when I realised it was snowing. I'm barely above sea level, it should not be snowing here on Guy Fawkes night. It's late spring, only weeks away from summer. Stupid weather.
I think I might have to go in to dent school tomorrow, this chipped tooth is REALLY annoying.
Quote from 'The Hyped Panic over War of the Worlds'.
10th November 2008.
Wednesday evening, I headed out with Oli, Bridget, Greer, Fiona and Johan. We went up to Alambra and set of fireworks. I temporarily blinded myself with the flash from a sparkler I was trying to light. Not quite as embarrassing at it sounds. I was lighting one of those bright colourful magnesium ones, while holding the rest of the bundle in the same hand. The whole lot went up. It was very, very bright. Apart from the temporary blindness, all went very well. The fireworks were entertaining. For all the shooting roman candles sort of at people we did, no-one got hit. It was all quite fun, even if we were lacking in a decent big firework to finish things off with.
Thursday morning, I got up at a sensibly earlyish time, and went to dent school. I got myself on the waiting list and then dropped by the English department and visited Emily. Then at 10am, I sat in the waiting room and read Sherman Alexie's Flight. I read the entirety of it while I waited. Weird book. Clearly written as teen fiction, but categorised away in the library away from teen eyes. I guess someone actually read it. Teen fiction takes dark a long way, but this had a bit more dark than many librarians would be happy putting in teenaged hands. At about 1, I got an xray taken and was then sent away to come back at 2. I came back and got a day-glow orange filling where the chip had been. And the really good thing, at this time of year it is all real dentists and no student so I was allowed to not have anaesthetic and thus didn't get zombie face. In the evening I had dinner at Alana's. Korean takeaways, which I found delicious and was entertained as Alana found she entirely didn't agree. Such faces. Then, after visiting Julie, home to sleep.
Friday I went to the doctor. But not my doctor, who cancelled on me again. The 'new' doctor filled the paperwork I had to get done for WINZ that day that, but wasn't willing to go in to my long list of things I want medical opinions on. Then, after delivering the papers to WINZ, I came home and hosted Aaron and Tim from that Christian group for a cup of tea and a polite (though not about religion) chat.
Saturday morning, I went and voted on the way to the farmers' market. I got hot bacon for breakfast and managed to get a tray of eggs home without dropping them, even after an irritatingly poorly timed attack of the tremors. Saturday night, I headed to Oli's to watch the election coverage and eat takeaways. And then got progressively more depressed as it become more and more obvious that the filthy nats had won. Voter are stupid (and as such I refer back to my rant against democracy the other day). At the end of the night I breifly dropped past the local ACT party function - which was entertaining and creepy and embarrassing and wrong.
Sunday, I pottered about the house until quiz time. The first Oli-less quiz. It wasn't the most appealling prospect, having got very used to winning. So I got there and had dinner with Greer and Susan (younger sister of Jen, one of my closest friends in high school (but entirely not since)). And then we did the quiz. And we won. A good solid 75 points. Not the sort of score that guarantees a win, but it worked for us against the five other teams there last night. And then using a flip and win I got an extra $20 of dinner voucher. So we left about $40 better off than we went in, even after having a very good dinner. Next week we may have to all order steaks.
Today, other than co-piloting my grandfather on a meals-on-wheels run, I've done nothing but sit listening to the audio book of Anansi Boys. That and serve the facebook - which I joint on Saturday and deeply regret.
Just home from dinner with the previously mentioned Christian group, and this time there was bible reading. Much bible reading and Witness Lee reading. I'm very unconvinced by Witness Lee. It's the last time I'll see them this year as they are all shipping off somewhere for the summer.
I should be sleeping my brain is mushy and my eyes are focusing as reliably as I'd like.
12th November 2008.
Facebook is evil.
Tuesday. I don't think I did much. I got up and ready and went to a doctors appointment (my third attempt to see my doctor over the past week) and found the computer system had screwed my appointment. So I came back home, got back into my pjs and spent the day curled up in bed or dozing on the couch listening to music. I think the only time I was properly awake after lunch were when I set fire to the oil in my fry pan (having been distracted by Facebook), and to watch House.
Today, I went to varsity and swapped discs with Katie - scoring myself a faux-Lego toy Buffy in the process. Then I finally managed to see my GP. It was mostly unproductive. At some point soon I may have to consider trying a new doctor. I guess it wasn't helped that my memory is shite and a couple of things I had meant to ask, but hadn't written down, never got asked. He did agree with me on my decision to slow the rate at which I'm increasing my dosage on the pain meds. So I guess that counts for something.
I should go sleep.
15th November 2008 - Machutus, Bp. and Conf. Middle lessons of S. Arianus.
On Thursday morning, while pottering about, I decided my hair had got to big, pulled out my clippers and started to cut it. It started okay, but then part of the frame holding the cutting edge died, and they mostly stopped working a bit under halfway through the first run over. At this point I was committed to the all over #4 yet had suddenly lost my means. I considered putting on a hat and going to a hairdresser to be rescued, but cheapness and fear of embarrassment led to me pulling out scissors and a hand mirror. I then, with comb and scissors (and while not wearing my glasses) tried to make my whole head look evenly clippered. While it is far from perfect, I only look a little special needs and not quite as terrible as I was expecting. Lesson: Get a spare set of clippers.
That led to my being slightly late for lunch at Alana's. It was a pleasant day, mostly spent talk to Alana, eating and watching her Pushing Daisies DVDs. I think that is a series I will have to buy myself some day. I also briefly visited my brother, to exchange some stuff, and briefly worked on Alana's CV, making it slightly more grammatically correct - though not really any more eloquent, I probably should have worked on it a bit more than I did.
Friday, I had a very nice lunch at the casino - free thank to a voucher from Bridget (via Greer). I really should have sorted someone to use the other one but never quite got around to it. Their lunches are big. Later in the day I went for a bike ride around South Dunedin. After a big loop[ around being surprised by how not flat it is and how much the slopes aren't always logical (roads sloping up toward the ocean). I'd just started riding again after dropping in to PB Tech and picking up the webcam my father has been nagging me to get (for Skype, which I now have all set up and presumably working (it's yet to be tested)) and my balance went out on me. I managed an only slightly ridiculously ungraceful dismount, without falling under any moving vehicle. I then discovered that a bicycle makes an acceptable, if unreliable, walking frame. Though I did feel like a dork walking my bike home across the big flat of South Dunedin.
In the evening, just as I was about to watch Top Chef and consider cooking (though the big casino lunch had left me with little appetite) I was called in to town by the Midget to be godparenty. Though my god-daughter was all shy and wanting nothing to do with me for the first hour or so, by the end of the night she was insulting me in the way children only do when they have decided that they like you enough to make a play of faux-injuring you. I guess I'm not the worst godparent ever, even if I'm yet to encourage anything of Anglicanism in her and not sure I'd ever be comfortable trying.
Today (after Tina rang me, which is the days high point) I had a lunch appointment with some woman who has been messaging me online and was over dedicated to meeting me. While it didn't go horribly, I didn't really see we had anything to talk about or anything in common. She, on the other hand, seems to think we'll be seeing a bit of each other. It has me suspecting I may be a little too nice, or at least too much of a backstabber to be impolite to people's faces.
After that I went to a picnic at Woodhaugh having no idea whose it was, the invite coming from a cellphone I didn't know. It turned out to be Bruno forcing a bunch of roleplayer and people roleplayer adjacent to go into sunlight. I'm glad I'd plastered myself with ridiculous quantities of SPF 30+ and had my red-trash hat on. It was a bright and scorching afternoon, and even sticking in the shade I felt a bit cooked. Made for a pretty good day though.
On the walk home my days warm fuzzy was killed by some random woman waiting at a bus stop who start screaming abuse at me for no reason I could see, as I'd walked past without so much as noticing she existed until I realised the abuse she was hurling was meant to be aimed at me. I realise the sensible approach would be to not only ignore it but forget it. Yet for some reason it just killed my good mood and has left me feeling grumpy as unpleasant ever since. Ah well, that'll learn me for living in a world with other people.
19th November 2008.
Sunday, I lazed about the house finishing off reading The Graveyard Book, so I could lend it to my brother. Everyone should read it, or at least watch the reading on mousecircus.com. Oh, and I tested the Skype thing with Tina. It was awesome. Then it was off to grandparent dinner. It was okay, as much as time with me, my brother and my mother all in the same room can be. Then was quiz time. We didn't win. It sucked. in fact, we got only 60 points (though the winners only got 68, so it wasn't just us sucking, it was a hard quiz). It was sucky. Though I did correctly identify the F1 driver in the sports round.
Monday, I went to town to meet a friend for lunch but she was off sick and didn't remember to text me until I was basically at her work. Still, it got me out of the house and got me eating a good vege filled lunch (if probably a bit fattier than would have been ideal).
Tuesday I stayed in pjs all day. I was feeling achier than usual and moving just wasn't a going thing.
Today. Went to town and didn't really do anything in there. I did pick up a giant pile of prescriptions though, and have no qualified for a Ministry of Health high user prescription subsidy. It is good for the year, so will expire before I get any more meds. Got home. Burnt my pan making dinner again, and managed to fill my whole unit with blue smoke and set off all the alarms. I felt like a big dork, and had to leave all my sliding doors open most of the evening to get the smoke out. My neighbours probably dislike me a bit.
25th November 2008 - Katherine, V. and Mart.
Once I read the card I'd got from the Ministry of Health properly, it turns out I now qualify as a high using household. It's not a card the says I've high use for an individual, it is one that says I have singlehandedly been prescribed enough drugs to be considered a high use household. I feel special...
Thursday last week, I had a day out an about as my house-craziness was getting to me a bit. I had lunch with Tash from Chem, someone I've not caught up with properly in far too long. Then I window shopped and was performatively out-and-about for a few hours before heading to Alana's for dinner. Being out of the house is good.
Friday, I was pottering about and getting impatient for a parcel I'd been expecting. The mail came. No parcel. I pottered about a bit more and then Whitcoull's rang to say they had my third Buffy Season Eight volume in. So I tidied myself up and headed out to get it. At my mailbox was a bit US Postal sack - my parcel had arrived. My Sandman collection is now complete - and very, very heavy. Then in the evening Dad arrived down for Christchurch and took me and my brother out for dinner. They visited me afterwards leading to a later night than I'm really good at.
Saturday, after a nice morning lying in and then curling up with the 4th Absolute Sandman, my dad came around and we went off to do some shopping. Originally planning to look at beds, as I keep putting off HPing myself a decent bed (my bed is seriously dying), but we got distracted, especially after we picked up my brother. We ended up trying the cinemas to see if there was anything we could agree to watch on, and after that failed decided to watch DVDs and eat microwave popcorn. After I pointed out that I don't have a microwave, my father bought me one on the way back to my place. By getting the cheapest and nastiest microwave the Warehouse had on offer, the venture didn't really end up costing more than going to the movies and getting popcorn there would have been.
Sunday, I read my Absolute Sandman. In the evening it was off to the casino, for a good dinner and an even better quiz. We won by a substantial amount, which made me feel better about things. And means we are still up on winnings from when Oli and Bridget left.
Yesterday, I didn't leave my apartment. More than that, I never even got out of my PJs. I woke up with a nasty full-body spasm thing going on and was mostly unable to standup unless I was holding on to stuff, so the day was split between bed and the couch. After weeks of putting it off, I finally went to the next dose of my meds. The next few weeks may suck.
Today went slightly better. I washed, dressed and got ready to head to the swimming pool. Just when I was getting ready to go a bout of torrential rain started up and I went off the idea of leaving the house. So today I've been no further than my mailbox. Otherwise I'm mostly just been stuffing about the house, and exercising by chewing on Chocolate Chippies. It's exercise....
For some stupid reason after days of not writing in this thing, I decided to write while I had finger tremors, making this entry take a couple of hours to write and requiring much use of the backspace. Manchester, England, England... I'm a genius.
I'm very much enjoying Amanda Palmer's lastest video, Leeds United.
It's weird. I don't really see that much of Oli but his being away is making me feel really isolated from people. And while I've been trying not to take my feeling lonely out on Simon, I still appear to be pissing him off.
Well, I finished writing the above about being all isolated as my cousin, Duncan, arrived to visit someone non-vegetarian so he could eat his pottle of mussels without feeling bad. Now my lounge smells of shellfish. He also ate my chocolate - but that happens when I leave it out and company arrives. The wonders of family.
I should push off before I get back into my complaining stride.
28th November 2008.
On Wednesday, after watching a few episode of Andy Hamilton's Bedtime, I headed off to the pool. I was slightly disturbed by the fact my legs were complain of overuse by the time I got to the top of my street. I'm so unfit. En route, visiting Kathy to lend her some of my Buffy DVDs. Walking past Otago Boys on the way I discovered that I probably shouldn't go past high schools at lunch time when my meds are making me crazy. Some snot nosed punk (I'm an old person now, so I'm allowed to call teenagers that...) was generally being abusing at passerbys. Suddenly I realised my whole body had tensed up to grab him and dash his head on the footpath - it was rather unpleasant. Muscles shouldn't be preparing themselves for a criminal assault my consciousness had yet to consider. I walked on feeling oddly betrayed (which is stupid, as my body has betrayed me so much more over the last year without it seeming an actual attack on whatever is left of me), and a little like I should have just gone with it. Parental investment theory assures me that young people are worth less to society.... Anyway, I got to the pool (discovering my prepaid swim card had 22 swims left and on 19 days to use them) and swum for a bit, aquajogged a lot. My muscles were all screaming for me to stop, but I've got used to pain enough that I can ignore it a bit better than I really ought. I only stopped when I realised I'd got to the point my limbs weren't exactly responding right and I was pretty certain that I would throw up in the pool if I kept it up any longer. Seems ignoring pain isn't always a smart plan. This became abundantly clear when my arms were being uncooperative in the changing room - putting pants on oughtn't be a challenge. (Other thing I learned at the pool, I've been single too long. I've gone right through finding everyone attractive and out the otherside, to the place where pretty much everyone just isn't good enough. You can't end an ages long dry spell with something mediocre. Thus proving I will be a crazy old cat lady.) From the pool I stumbled home to an evening of blobbing and having spaghetti arms. I was also testing Zam-Buk to see if it was actually any good for muscle pain, since it claims to be.
Yesterday, I spent most of the day blobbing and still feeling sore. And shiny. Excessive Zam-Buk use had left me so shiny as to probably count as glazed. Glazed long pork, in a camphor marinade. In the afternoon I wandered to Alana's. By the bottom of my street my legs already felt like they were burning. Stupid crappy muscles of complaininess. Yes, I overdid things at the pool. But the next day they shouldn't be quite so keen to constantly remind me. Bastardly limbs of crapness. I eventually made it to Alana's, and bussed home.
Today shall be of blobbing. I should really be trying to use up more of the swims on my card, but pushing achey muscles is just going to turn me in to even more of a whiney bitch what isn't likeable.
30th November 2008 - Andrew, Ap.
Friday evening, my father turned up in town to take me and my brother out to dinner, and then on to the new Bond. We picked up my cousin Duncan, who was disturbingly staying with people I know, and headed to my dad's choice of restaurant, The Lone Star. It was freakishly expensive, and not so clean. The glasses were grey and the plates no as white as they were intended to be, but by putting some effort into ignoring the general scuzziness of the place I managed to enjoy a resonably good, if stupidly large, meal. Then after losing Duncan, who wasn't convinced that the movie was worth spending more time around a pack of Robertsons, we hit Rialto for some James Bond action. I bumped in to Emily on the way in, which was a pleasant surprise. Then the movie. Well, it was a good action flick, but I'm undecided as to whether it was a good Bond. It's worth seeing just for the action though. Afterward we went out the exit at the bottom of the theatre, and I recommend it. Stumbling out of an alley is much more fun than just walking out the cinema's main doors.
Yesterday, I was tired and grumpy and sore. I went to the farmers' market with Dad, getting a lettuce and some radishes, before he headed back to Christchurch and then spent the day blobbing and feeling crap. In the evening, I went to Park'n'Slave and bought not that much but heavy. And got turkish takeaways. By the time I got home I'd given myself spaghetti arms again. I are idiot. Then I checked emails and discovered Alana had sent me an essay to proof. Being tired and cranky, I was just mean abou tit and then went to bed. Bed by 8:40pm is something I should do more often, evenings just amplify my underlying unpleasant. And a 12 hour plus sleep ought be helpful. Though I'm mostly still tired, sore and unpleasant today.
