I have just realised that I haven't blogged in a few weeks. I don't want this blog to quickly disappear into the depths of obscurity. It's not that I haven't had ideas. I have had a couple of ideas that I thought would make great blog entries.
I just haven't had the energy. I am so tired all the time and constantly feeling sick so I went to the doctor a month or so ago, and my blood tests came back abnormal. For what I don't know. I did another blood test, and that also came back abnormal. So back to the doctor I went, where I did not have to wait even a single second when I got there and the doctor was actually pretty concerned. I don't think it is anything too major, but we're doing all the right tests to work out why I am feeling like this. She thinks it is possible that I might have picked up some nasty in South America that is lurking in my body.
Hopefully I will have some energy to write an awesome blog entry soon, but at the moment, I just can't do it.
Have a wonderful Christmas my small little smattering of readers. Mine will be lovely, pretty chill and with my family. I actually really enjoy Christmas day with my family. It is pretty chilled out, and all the niblings and siblings are there and really, Christmas is for the kids, so it's nice to have them there.
I've done most of my shopping. Now I just have to work out what the hell I am going to get my super fashion conscious, super cool 13 year old niece. I was never cool. I was never fashionable. I have ABSOLUTELY.NO.IDEA.
I'm the "cool aunty". My presents can't be "lame"
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Friday, December 4, 2009
I used to own that!
I went to the op shop the other day with my mother. An op shop, for the un-kiwi-initiated amongst you is a secondhand store. Not one connected to a charity such as The Salvation Army, or Oxfam but one designed to make money. Here the clothes are a little more expensive (although still cheap on the grand scale of things) and for the little more expense, you get all your clothes separated into colour and type (eg red tops, jeans, coats etc). It makes it a lot easier to find what you want rather than scrambling through a huge pile of clothes, and is a hell of a lot more civilised than several pairs of hands grabbing at the same item, yelling "it's mine!, it's mine!".
These shops also have a book section, which I always visit, usually after the despondence of not being able to find a single top that I like or fits. The books won't let me down, I think as I run into my comfort zone (I actually HATE shopping for clothes) and inner sanctum. And they didn't. Gleaming at me was an almost brand new copy of Fingersmith by Sarah Waters, a fantastic book set in Victorian London with a lesbian slant with the characters. I LOVE this book and looking at it in all its shiny $3.50 glory, I picked it up and clutched it to my chest. "My precious"! I was excited as I had always liked this book since I read it, and now I would own it.
I got home. I looked at it, and from somewhere deep in the recesses of my brain, a little message was trying to get through. Finally it emerged.
I used to own this book.
I lent this book to a friend 3 years ago.
I still don't have it back.
It didn't worry me about this book, as I now own this book again, and my friend can keep it. However, it worried me that if I could forget that I once owned this book, how many other books remained separated from me.
Recently I have started writing my name in the front page of a book that I lend to people, but I have been burnt too many times now that I hardly ever lend my books out to people. I'll lend them to family or people that I know will look after them and that I see regularly.
HOW can people not use bookmarks and fold the corners over, or bend the front cover/ How can a book get that mauled?
When I was about 13 years old, I lent a 1000 page book to a friend of my mother's friends. I thought it would be in safe hands with an older, responsible lady. I, a 13 year old had read this book with just a couple of lines on the spine, so I figured it would be ok. She returned my book (that's a start I suppose), but it was so mauled and damaged that I still, 16 years later bring this story up to the chagrin of my parents who tell me to just get over it.
I couldn't. My book was ruined. I understand that a book should be read but I personally think that if you borrow a book and you return it in a state markedly worse than it was given to you in, you should buy them a new book. Am I the only one that thinks this way?
So I have a lovely new copy of Fingersmith. I think I might re-read it. I certainly won't be lending it out to anyone without writing my name in the front, and writing down who I have lent it to.
Next week I'll pop back to the op shop to find a top (I only have 3) and perhaps buy another book that I used to own.
These shops also have a book section, which I always visit, usually after the despondence of not being able to find a single top that I like or fits. The books won't let me down, I think as I run into my comfort zone (I actually HATE shopping for clothes) and inner sanctum. And they didn't. Gleaming at me was an almost brand new copy of Fingersmith by Sarah Waters, a fantastic book set in Victorian London with a lesbian slant with the characters. I LOVE this book and looking at it in all its shiny $3.50 glory, I picked it up and clutched it to my chest. "My precious"! I was excited as I had always liked this book since I read it, and now I would own it.
I got home. I looked at it, and from somewhere deep in the recesses of my brain, a little message was trying to get through. Finally it emerged.
I used to own this book.
I lent this book to a friend 3 years ago.
I still don't have it back.
It didn't worry me about this book, as I now own this book again, and my friend can keep it. However, it worried me that if I could forget that I once owned this book, how many other books remained separated from me.
Recently I have started writing my name in the front page of a book that I lend to people, but I have been burnt too many times now that I hardly ever lend my books out to people. I'll lend them to family or people that I know will look after them and that I see regularly.
HOW can people not use bookmarks and fold the corners over, or bend the front cover/ How can a book get that mauled?
When I was about 13 years old, I lent a 1000 page book to a friend of my mother's friends. I thought it would be in safe hands with an older, responsible lady. I, a 13 year old had read this book with just a couple of lines on the spine, so I figured it would be ok. She returned my book (that's a start I suppose), but it was so mauled and damaged that I still, 16 years later bring this story up to the chagrin of my parents who tell me to just get over it.
I couldn't. My book was ruined. I understand that a book should be read but I personally think that if you borrow a book and you return it in a state markedly worse than it was given to you in, you should buy them a new book. Am I the only one that thinks this way?
So I have a lovely new copy of Fingersmith. I think I might re-read it. I certainly won't be lending it out to anyone without writing my name in the front, and writing down who I have lent it to.
Next week I'll pop back to the op shop to find a top (I only have 3) and perhaps buy another book that I used to own.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
A bit warmer would have been nice
Went to Pearl Jam last night. Wouldn't say that this is neccesarily one of my favourite bands, but they are awesome (with Eddie Vedder's gravelly voice) and knew they would be fantastic live.
They didn't disappoint. The weather did. Obviously Zeus didn't pass that memo onto the other gods that a pretty big rock band were playing and a little less rain and wind could have been the going thing.
It was in an outside stadium and although thousands of people were on the grounds in general admission, these tickets were $20 more when I booked so I just booked the cheapest. Cheapest being up in the stands, seated (hehehe you sit in the stands). Because I was so high, the wind wasn't hindered by those pesky buildings and I haven't been quite that cold in a while.
The concert was absolutely amazing. Despite it being really cold, Eddie Vedder and the boys played for 2 and a half hours, supported by Ben Harper and kiwi fave Liam Finn. His Dad, the amazing Neil came out and everyone sang "better be Home soon" and "I got you" with the entire audience of 30 000 singing. It was very cool. Other highlights were a beautiful rendition of Under Pressure by Eddie and Ben, Evenflow, Jeremy, Better Man and a gorgeous solo acoustic version of a new song by Eddie. Just great.
Ben Harper and Eddie Vedder rock the free world.
So, I was on my own (all my friends were downstairs dancing in the rain). That bit wasn't the greatest. A concert is one of the few things that I'm not a fan of attending on my own. Everything else to me is no problem.
Attending theatre, or movies on my own does not bother me. I think the latter was because I worked in movie theatres for so many years, and that movies were free as many times as I liked for me, and I could take one person once a week. I just popped in to see whatever was playing when I had some spare time.
I became very popular:
Friend: Treezy, do you want to see the latest movie showing at your cinema?
Treezy: Sure, you know that it will be free for you?
Friend: Really? (mock surprise). I didn't realise that. And you can get me free coffee, icecream and popcorn as well?
I didn't mind. It didn't cost me anything, and it is nice to have someone to chat to AFTER the movie.
That really is the clincher. I started "auditioning" my friends who came to the movies with me. Some were a one appearance only deal. They did not get the part of "Treezy's cinema friend" because they were simply too annoying during the movie.
Talk as much as you like during the ads and previews, but once the film starts, SHUT THE HELL UP! I don't want to hear your opinions on every scene. I don't want to catch up during the film.
I once went with this friend and every time something was funny, I would catch him out of my peripheral vision. He would be looking at me, waiting for me to look at him to have a connection over how funny that moment was. It was very annoying.
Now I think I am a reasonable person. I just follow cinema etiquette. This is simply these simple courteous factors:
1) If the cinema is pretty empty don't sit directly in front of someone who is already there. Two rows is ok
2)Don't use your cell phone to text unless you are the only one in the cinema. That little blue light is really annoying. Even if you are on your own, just turn the damn phone off and watch the film (maybe I will do a post at some point on phone etiquette cos that annoys me just as much)
3) Don't talk during the film.
4) Especially don't talk about what you think is about to happen. I don't want to hear your predictions. I want to watch the film and see for myself.
5)Don't throw things at other people's heads
6)(This one's for the projectionists). Don't turn off the credits halfway through. Some people LIKE watching credits
So there we have it. I think maybe it is just simpler for me to watch movies on my own so I can sit there in silence, not throwing jaffas down the aisle and stay til the last credit rolls.
They didn't disappoint. The weather did. Obviously Zeus didn't pass that memo onto the other gods that a pretty big rock band were playing and a little less rain and wind could have been the going thing.
It was in an outside stadium and although thousands of people were on the grounds in general admission, these tickets were $20 more when I booked so I just booked the cheapest. Cheapest being up in the stands, seated (hehehe you sit in the stands). Because I was so high, the wind wasn't hindered by those pesky buildings and I haven't been quite that cold in a while.
The concert was absolutely amazing. Despite it being really cold, Eddie Vedder and the boys played for 2 and a half hours, supported by Ben Harper and kiwi fave Liam Finn. His Dad, the amazing Neil came out and everyone sang "better be Home soon" and "I got you" with the entire audience of 30 000 singing. It was very cool. Other highlights were a beautiful rendition of Under Pressure by Eddie and Ben, Evenflow, Jeremy, Better Man and a gorgeous solo acoustic version of a new song by Eddie. Just great.
Ben Harper and Eddie Vedder rock the free world.So, I was on my own (all my friends were downstairs dancing in the rain). That bit wasn't the greatest. A concert is one of the few things that I'm not a fan of attending on my own. Everything else to me is no problem.
Attending theatre, or movies on my own does not bother me. I think the latter was because I worked in movie theatres for so many years, and that movies were free as many times as I liked for me, and I could take one person once a week. I just popped in to see whatever was playing when I had some spare time.
I became very popular:
Friend: Treezy, do you want to see the latest movie showing at your cinema?
Treezy: Sure, you know that it will be free for you?
Friend: Really? (mock surprise). I didn't realise that. And you can get me free coffee, icecream and popcorn as well?
I didn't mind. It didn't cost me anything, and it is nice to have someone to chat to AFTER the movie.
That really is the clincher. I started "auditioning" my friends who came to the movies with me. Some were a one appearance only deal. They did not get the part of "Treezy's cinema friend" because they were simply too annoying during the movie.
Talk as much as you like during the ads and previews, but once the film starts, SHUT THE HELL UP! I don't want to hear your opinions on every scene. I don't want to catch up during the film.
I once went with this friend and every time something was funny, I would catch him out of my peripheral vision. He would be looking at me, waiting for me to look at him to have a connection over how funny that moment was. It was very annoying.
Now I think I am a reasonable person. I just follow cinema etiquette. This is simply these simple courteous factors:
1) If the cinema is pretty empty don't sit directly in front of someone who is already there. Two rows is ok
2)Don't use your cell phone to text unless you are the only one in the cinema. That little blue light is really annoying. Even if you are on your own, just turn the damn phone off and watch the film (maybe I will do a post at some point on phone etiquette cos that annoys me just as much)
3) Don't talk during the film.
4) Especially don't talk about what you think is about to happen. I don't want to hear your predictions. I want to watch the film and see for myself.
5)Don't throw things at other people's heads
6)(This one's for the projectionists). Don't turn off the credits halfway through. Some people LIKE watching credits
So there we have it. I think maybe it is just simpler for me to watch movies on my own so I can sit there in silence, not throwing jaffas down the aisle and stay til the last credit rolls.
Friday, November 27, 2009
The Grass is always greener
When I started this blog, I thought that a vague play on words on the nickname version of my name would be a good thing to call it. But, of course, psychologically, people will always want what they perceive to be better.
The Grass is always going to look greener on the other side. You see what's on your side of the fence in great detail, but on the other side, it looks not only greener, but better and more desirable. You don't see the weeds, or any of the problems that you seem to face on a daily basis.
I have always had people say this to me. "You are so lucky to be able to travel. What a wonderful life it must be. I wish I could do that."
My answer to that always is that it wasn't luck. It was a conscious decision that I made to not buy the flat screen TV, and save my money for travel instead. It wasn't as if I won a lottery ticket that allowed me to go travelling. Basically everything I saved went towards it.
Same thing with my studies. I don't have a student loan. In New Zealand currently, the average student loan is $28 000 and the collective loan amount has passed 10 billion dollars. I of course have great parents who are in a position to help me out, but I also credit myself, being that after the first year's fees, I saved and paid my way for the following 3 years of study. That's one thing that I am hugely proud of.
I am also proud of the way I live my life. It works for me. I spend money and have fun, but I'm not a big one for shopping (I can't stand it actually) and only generally buy things that I need. I always save money, whether I've worked out what it's for yet or not, and if I do buy something (like a computer) I pay in full.
I can afford little luxuries like music gigs, theatre and of course travel, by being a single woman on one income with no family to support.
I can understand why some of my friends would look at my seemingly fun travel lifestlye (I get back from a trip and am planning the next one) and see it as better than what is in front of them. Because it is fun. It is a great life and I enjoy it.
However, there is a drawback. Every time I go away, I find that some of my friends withdraw a little from me, and with some people we don't have much in common anymore, as it seems that most of my friends are doing the grown up thing these days. My friends have turned into fully fledged adults before my eyes, having babies, mortgages and long term-partners. I have a grand total of none of these things, and I do look at my friends in these lifestyles and think that the grass does indeed look greener on their side.
For example I was visiting my friend the other day. Her and her husband have a 4 month old baby (absolutely Beoootiful) and although they do have the money worries of being a young family on a single income, I look at them and want what they have. They would probably think I was mad, but I look at their faces when they play with their little daughter, and I think, I want some of that! Because I do want to have children and my biological clock is ticking.
I feel my friends are leaving me behind in the grown up world. Even my brother, last remaining single, childless sibling recently betrayed me by leaving me the only member of the family sans child.
Really, it's all relative. I want what they have. They want what I have. Can we ever just be happy with our lot? Is it just a part of human nature to never be happy with our own life? Why must we look sideways all the time? On a brief side note, if you are interested in this stuff, read Brave New World by Aldous Huxley. It is a fantastic dystopian look at what the world would be like if we were happy with whatever we were doing, regardless of the job.
I'm going to keep on with my way of life for the moment. It does suit me, and I enjoy it, hedonistic as it may be. But I'll keep looking sideways, as is the way of the world, keep being seceretly jealous by others' lives as they in turn keep being seceretly jealous of mine!
I'll leave you with this fantastic quote:
"The grass is not, in fact, always greener on the other side of the fence. Not at all. Fences have nothing to do with it. The grass is greenest where it is watered. When crossing over fences, carry water with you and tend the grass wherever you may be." -- Robert Fulghum, in It was On Fire When I Lay Down on It, Ivy Books, 1989
The Grass is always going to look greener on the other side. You see what's on your side of the fence in great detail, but on the other side, it looks not only greener, but better and more desirable. You don't see the weeds, or any of the problems that you seem to face on a daily basis.
I have always had people say this to me. "You are so lucky to be able to travel. What a wonderful life it must be. I wish I could do that."
My answer to that always is that it wasn't luck. It was a conscious decision that I made to not buy the flat screen TV, and save my money for travel instead. It wasn't as if I won a lottery ticket that allowed me to go travelling. Basically everything I saved went towards it.
Same thing with my studies. I don't have a student loan. In New Zealand currently, the average student loan is $28 000 and the collective loan amount has passed 10 billion dollars. I of course have great parents who are in a position to help me out, but I also credit myself, being that after the first year's fees, I saved and paid my way for the following 3 years of study. That's one thing that I am hugely proud of.
I am also proud of the way I live my life. It works for me. I spend money and have fun, but I'm not a big one for shopping (I can't stand it actually) and only generally buy things that I need. I always save money, whether I've worked out what it's for yet or not, and if I do buy something (like a computer) I pay in full.
I can afford little luxuries like music gigs, theatre and of course travel, by being a single woman on one income with no family to support.
I can understand why some of my friends would look at my seemingly fun travel lifestlye (I get back from a trip and am planning the next one) and see it as better than what is in front of them. Because it is fun. It is a great life and I enjoy it.
However, there is a drawback. Every time I go away, I find that some of my friends withdraw a little from me, and with some people we don't have much in common anymore, as it seems that most of my friends are doing the grown up thing these days. My friends have turned into fully fledged adults before my eyes, having babies, mortgages and long term-partners. I have a grand total of none of these things, and I do look at my friends in these lifestyles and think that the grass does indeed look greener on their side.
For example I was visiting my friend the other day. Her and her husband have a 4 month old baby (absolutely Beoootiful) and although they do have the money worries of being a young family on a single income, I look at them and want what they have. They would probably think I was mad, but I look at their faces when they play with their little daughter, and I think, I want some of that! Because I do want to have children and my biological clock is ticking.
I feel my friends are leaving me behind in the grown up world. Even my brother, last remaining single, childless sibling recently betrayed me by leaving me the only member of the family sans child.
Really, it's all relative. I want what they have. They want what I have. Can we ever just be happy with our lot? Is it just a part of human nature to never be happy with our own life? Why must we look sideways all the time? On a brief side note, if you are interested in this stuff, read Brave New World by Aldous Huxley. It is a fantastic dystopian look at what the world would be like if we were happy with whatever we were doing, regardless of the job.
I'm going to keep on with my way of life for the moment. It does suit me, and I enjoy it, hedonistic as it may be. But I'll keep looking sideways, as is the way of the world, keep being seceretly jealous by others' lives as they in turn keep being seceretly jealous of mine!
I'll leave you with this fantastic quote:
"The grass is not, in fact, always greener on the other side of the fence. Not at all. Fences have nothing to do with it. The grass is greenest where it is watered. When crossing over fences, carry water with you and tend the grass wherever you may be." -- Robert Fulghum, in It was On Fire When I Lay Down on It, Ivy Books, 1989
Monday, November 23, 2009
Please don't eat my nibling! It's not a piece of chicken!
My sister n law and my brother has just had their first baby a couple of days ago. This is FANTASTIC and I can't wait to shake his little hand when I am introduced to him tomorrow. Of course this baby malarkey is not new to me. Not that I have any kids myself but I have 12 niblings.
On a side note, for those of you who don't know what a nibling is, it is a neologism that means the collective form of niece and nephew. Me and my sister a few years ago were talking about the sheer negligence of the English language for not providing a word with this meaning. I mean the effort to say "I have 5 nephews and 7 nieces" (which incidentally I do) instead of "I have 12 niblings"! It seems that others coined this word before us! I always thought that we were the first! Oxford English Dictionary hasn't accepted it yet, but it's only a matter of time.
But first, back to the story at hand. So my brother is the final sibling (of 5) to start reproducing. I'm the only one who has no children at all, and at 29 and I do hope that one day this will change.
I LOVE children. I am planning on becoming a primary school teacher, and would like to have children of my own one day. As I have no long term partner at the moment, this is not a possibility for now. I would be happy to adopt if I couldn't have children of my own, but I kind of want to experience the whole carrying a baby thing. Maybe it will happen. I hope so one day.
In the meantime, in lieu of the fact that I don't have any video footage of my newest little nephew yet, here is a video of a baby polar bear. It's sooooo cute. It's much cuter if you watch it with the sound on.
On a side note, for those of you who don't know what a nibling is, it is a neologism that means the collective form of niece and nephew. Me and my sister a few years ago were talking about the sheer negligence of the English language for not providing a word with this meaning. I mean the effort to say "I have 5 nephews and 7 nieces" (which incidentally I do) instead of "I have 12 niblings"! It seems that others coined this word before us! I always thought that we were the first! Oxford English Dictionary hasn't accepted it yet, but it's only a matter of time.
But first, back to the story at hand. So my brother is the final sibling (of 5) to start reproducing. I'm the only one who has no children at all, and at 29 and I do hope that one day this will change.
I LOVE children. I am planning on becoming a primary school teacher, and would like to have children of my own one day. As I have no long term partner at the moment, this is not a possibility for now. I would be happy to adopt if I couldn't have children of my own, but I kind of want to experience the whole carrying a baby thing. Maybe it will happen. I hope so one day.
In the meantime, in lieu of the fact that I don't have any video footage of my newest little nephew yet, here is a video of a baby polar bear. It's sooooo cute. It's much cuter if you watch it with the sound on.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
"Business in Front, Party in Back"
My newest craze is literal videos. Basically they sing about what is literally happening in the video. One of my favourites is Dustin McNeato, and he does some fantastic ones, and he gets the voices spot on as well.
Check this one out (and there are quite a few others as well)
Check this one out (and there are quite a few others as well)
Thursday, November 12, 2009
The Little Yellow Dress
The other night I watched several episodes of the television programme, Medium with my Mum. A Medium Marathon so to speak. This show is based on a true story, as the characters of Allison Dubois and her husband and three daughters really do exist. I LOVE this show. It portrays the characters in such a realistic manner, and the story lines are always great.
My Mum is a little bit psychic (apparently you can't say this word anymore because it has negative connotations) and my favourite story to do with this has to do with me.
When I was a little baby of about 10 weeks old, I went from being healthy to really ridiculously unhealthy in a matter of minutes. Mum being a registered nurse, noticed that something was up (the blue colour of my skin might have tipped her off), and took me straight in to the hospital. It turned out that I had meningitis, and immediately things took a turn for the worst. I was in a coma, deaf, paralysed along my left side, and had suspected brain damage. I had my baby hair shaved off, and was operated on. My parents were Catholic and the doctors had said to them that the outcome looked dire. The priest was brought in, and the last rites were performed on me. I was not expected to live through the night.
My mother sat with me, obviously upset at this news. She suddenly had one of her "funny feelings" (how she describes it) and suddenly knew that I would get better. On the way home (they did have 5 older children to check up on) she asked Dad to stop in at a store and bought a new yellow dress for their daughter, who she now knew would be ok.
The strange thing was, I was ok. All the specialists could give a number of diagnoses, but they paled in comparison to my mother's "funny feelings". I made a full recovery, and being that I was so young, have very few side effects except for a weakness along my left side, not being able to run, and an inability to use scissors without looking like a 5 year old child. But that is nothing considering the damage that my baby body had had inflicted on it.
The only downer on the whole thing was that it was 1980 and it was in Singapore. If it had happened now, I would have been on the front cover of "Women's Weekly" heralded as "Miracle Baby". Bummer...
"Miracle baby 7 months after surgery that should have left her for dead. Seen here doing a little celebratory dance. Read about this remarkable story of life, death and funny feelings in this week's "Women's Weekly!"
My Mum is a little bit psychic (apparently you can't say this word anymore because it has negative connotations) and my favourite story to do with this has to do with me.
When I was a little baby of about 10 weeks old, I went from being healthy to really ridiculously unhealthy in a matter of minutes. Mum being a registered nurse, noticed that something was up (the blue colour of my skin might have tipped her off), and took me straight in to the hospital. It turned out that I had meningitis, and immediately things took a turn for the worst. I was in a coma, deaf, paralysed along my left side, and had suspected brain damage. I had my baby hair shaved off, and was operated on. My parents were Catholic and the doctors had said to them that the outcome looked dire. The priest was brought in, and the last rites were performed on me. I was not expected to live through the night.
My mother sat with me, obviously upset at this news. She suddenly had one of her "funny feelings" (how she describes it) and suddenly knew that I would get better. On the way home (they did have 5 older children to check up on) she asked Dad to stop in at a store and bought a new yellow dress for their daughter, who she now knew would be ok.
The strange thing was, I was ok. All the specialists could give a number of diagnoses, but they paled in comparison to my mother's "funny feelings". I made a full recovery, and being that I was so young, have very few side effects except for a weakness along my left side, not being able to run, and an inability to use scissors without looking like a 5 year old child. But that is nothing considering the damage that my baby body had had inflicted on it.
The only downer on the whole thing was that it was 1980 and it was in Singapore. If it had happened now, I would have been on the front cover of "Women's Weekly" heralded as "Miracle Baby". Bummer...
"Miracle baby 7 months after surgery that should have left her for dead. Seen here doing a little celebratory dance. Read about this remarkable story of life, death and funny feelings in this week's "Women's Weekly!"
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Eat Play Love
So a while ago, when I was travelling, I read a book called Eat Pray Love
Essentially, it is about a woman who is recovering from a messy divorce and is not in a good state emotionally. It is a true story about the author, Liz, who decides that she is going to spend a year looking after herself and discovering different facets of her personality.
So she goes to Italy for 4 months, to learn Italian, and devote herself to culinary pleasures in the form of delicious Italian food. She then travels to India to spend 4 months in an ashram learning the art of meditation, and finally spends 4 months in Bali, one of the supposed happiest places in the world and finds a balance between the two.
It is a pretty good read, and I definitely could relate to several aspects in the book (maybe not so much the praying part). I think her journey is pretty great and I'm sure she has inspired many people to do the same kind of spiritual journey to find out aspects of their personality.
So it got me thinking, where would I go? What would I do if I have to choose three places around the globe that are well known for different things. What would you choose?
Well to start, I would love to spend 4 months in Jamaica to immerse myself into a culture where music is so highly revered and such a part of the people. Although many nations have contributed a lot to music, Jamaica seems to me (and I've never been), to be a place where it is a major part of every day life. I found this same thing when I was a child and lived in Fiji; they were all so blessed with amazing voices and a natural sense of rhythm, and I expect it would be the same in Jamaica. For really, any country that can produce Bob Marley has got to be a place to stay for a while.
Actually this is really hard? I want to go to so many places, but trying to fit it into one reason that sums up that country is difficult. I guess I could take Andrew Gottlieb's advice, and just do the opposite of what Elizabeth Gordon did. He is a comedian, whose book Drink, Play, F**k tries to do the opposite of the original.
He goes to Ireland to drink as much as possible, Las Vegas to gamble, and to Thailand for the women.
Essentially, it is about a woman who is recovering from a messy divorce and is not in a good state emotionally. It is a true story about the author, Liz, who decides that she is going to spend a year looking after herself and discovering different facets of her personality.
So she goes to Italy for 4 months, to learn Italian, and devote herself to culinary pleasures in the form of delicious Italian food. She then travels to India to spend 4 months in an ashram learning the art of meditation, and finally spends 4 months in Bali, one of the supposed happiest places in the world and finds a balance between the two.
It is a pretty good read, and I definitely could relate to several aspects in the book (maybe not so much the praying part). I think her journey is pretty great and I'm sure she has inspired many people to do the same kind of spiritual journey to find out aspects of their personality.
So it got me thinking, where would I go? What would I do if I have to choose three places around the globe that are well known for different things. What would you choose?
Well to start, I would love to spend 4 months in Jamaica to immerse myself into a culture where music is so highly revered and such a part of the people. Although many nations have contributed a lot to music, Jamaica seems to me (and I've never been), to be a place where it is a major part of every day life. I found this same thing when I was a child and lived in Fiji; they were all so blessed with amazing voices and a natural sense of rhythm, and I expect it would be the same in Jamaica. For really, any country that can produce Bob Marley has got to be a place to stay for a while.
Actually this is really hard? I want to go to so many places, but trying to fit it into one reason that sums up that country is difficult. I guess I could take Andrew Gottlieb's advice, and just do the opposite of what Elizabeth Gordon did. He is a comedian, whose book Drink, Play, F**k tries to do the opposite of the original.
He goes to Ireland to drink as much as possible, Las Vegas to gamble, and to Thailand for the women.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Jumping on the bandwagon
My first post. How exciting! I can join this little community that is the bloggers. Blog. What a strange word. Kind of sounds like a splotch of words, sprayed over the page. What a lovely image. Actually splotch is kind of a strange word too isn't it. Hmm strange words, now that's a topic for me to start with.
Let me start by introducing myself. I am Treezy, sister of Cesca, avid traveller, and a bit of a word geek. I get frustrated by signs that are mispelled or grammatically incorrect, and have been known to get a black marker and correct them (although also recognise that I'm not right all the time).
So back to me and words. I ADORE Scrabble. I just love scanning the board for suitable places and words to get my 7 letter, triple word score. I love reading, but once failed first year university English, by not reading the books, and not turning up to the exam.
So I've jumped on the bandwagon (another interesting word). Was there really a wagon with a band on it? What kind of band was it? (pause as I go to search the etymology of the word bandwagon and this is what I found).
bandwagon
1855, Amer.Eng., from band (2) + wagon, originally a large wagon used to carry the band in a circus procession; as these also figured in celebrations of successful political campaigns, being on the bandwagon came to represent "attaching oneself to anything that looks likely to succeed," a usage first attested 1899 in writings of Theodore Roosevelt.
Fantastic! A circus. I love circuses but I'm more into the Cirque de Soleil rather than the Lion jumpiing through a firey hoop version.
So anyway, I'm here! I've joined the circus procession, and I hope to use this blog (actually what's the etymology of blog - this kind of stuff FASCINATES me).
blog (plural blogs), shortened from weblog
1.(Internet) website that allows users to reflect, share opinions, and discuss various topics in the form of an online journal while readers may comment on posts. Entries typically appear in reverse chronological order.
So there we go. I'm not sure exactly how this blog will play out, but I am sure that there will be lots of tangents, some useless trivia about words or otherwise, and just generally the thoughts of me, a 29 year old woman, from New Zealand.
Let me start by introducing myself. I am Treezy, sister of Cesca, avid traveller, and a bit of a word geek. I get frustrated by signs that are mispelled or grammatically incorrect, and have been known to get a black marker and correct them (although also recognise that I'm not right all the time).
So back to me and words. I ADORE Scrabble. I just love scanning the board for suitable places and words to get my 7 letter, triple word score. I love reading, but once failed first year university English, by not reading the books, and not turning up to the exam.
So I've jumped on the bandwagon (another interesting word). Was there really a wagon with a band on it? What kind of band was it? (pause as I go to search the etymology of the word bandwagon and this is what I found).
bandwagon
1855, Amer.Eng., from band (2) + wagon, originally a large wagon used to carry the band in a circus procession; as these also figured in celebrations of successful political campaigns, being on the bandwagon came to represent "attaching oneself to anything that looks likely to succeed," a usage first attested 1899 in writings of Theodore Roosevelt.
Fantastic! A circus. I love circuses but I'm more into the Cirque de Soleil rather than the Lion jumpiing through a firey hoop version.
So anyway, I'm here! I've joined the circus procession, and I hope to use this blog (actually what's the etymology of blog - this kind of stuff FASCINATES me).
blog (plural blogs), shortened from weblog
1.(Internet) website that allows users to reflect, share opinions, and discuss various topics in the form of an online journal while readers may comment on posts. Entries typically appear in reverse chronological order.
So there we go. I'm not sure exactly how this blog will play out, but I am sure that there will be lots of tangents, some useless trivia about words or otherwise, and just generally the thoughts of me, a 29 year old woman, from New Zealand.
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