100 in 1000 |
- Spend a week up a mountain learning to ski
- Visit Karoline's place in Moravia
Hold a conversation in Czech (only)
- Drink 500ml of each of the following beers:
Pilsner
Staroprammen
- Budvar
- Velke Popovice
- U Fleku
Gambrinus
Krusovice
Respond to at least one GOARN request (WHO and MSF are
also acceptable)
Travel across the Atlantic
Return to South America
- Read a book to, or with, an impressionably aged child
- Participate in one NanoWriMo Challenge and come within at least 10,000 words of the goal length
Have my nose pierced
- Have my next tattoo drawn
Purchase the perfect jeans (x 2 pairs)
- Attend a spin class 3 times a week for 8 consecutive weeks
- Bake Viv's cheesecake
Make David's casserole
Make David's Chicken Cashew-nut Stirfry
Invite 4 people who don't know one another too well to dinner
- Ride from Vienna to Venice on a motorbike (pillion acceptable, those less desirable)
- Attend a book group for at least two books
- Go on a choir weekend (learn and perform difficult piece in two/three days)
- Visit Madame Tussaud's (in London)
- Take an architecture appreciation course
Join an all-girl group and sing a solo
Publish in a scientific journal (top two authors)
Cook a duck or other 'waterfowl'.
Locate the Al-Timimi's from Doha Veterinary Practise
Have a pedicure
Maintain a Brazilian (ouch) for three months.
Find a trustworthy Czech hairdresser
- Treat my inner-6-year-old twice a week (at least)
- Do the liver-cleansing diet properly (12 weeks)
- Don't eat out for one month
Find a flat and flatmate
- Purchase one Joseph sweater
- Purchase one of the following pairs of
designer shoes (they MUST also be COMFORTABLE, and be able to be worn with 4
different outfits and 2 types of occasion): Jimmy Choos, Manolo Blahniks,
Christian Louboutin (Ebay or 2nd hand are acceptable)
- Send 5 books to the booksphere and track them.
- Go hanggliding
- Read 10 'classic' books (from 1001 Books to Read before you Die)
Moll Flanders
Everything is illuminated
Madam Bovary
Zen & the Art of Motorcycle Maintainance
Catch-22
Odysseus
On the Road
- Run (non-stop!) for 5kms outside (preferably in a street race thingy)
- Send Christmas Cards on time
Make a collage/mural out of street lights on my wall
Buy a bed, build it, and sleep soundly in it
Go to Africa
Host an 'event' (classified as and when)
Organise a 30th Birthday Party
Wear a costume
- Sing on stage
- Buy a painting that evokes memories of Prague (cannot involve queues!)
Learn a god-damned card game that stays in my memory (other than fish/snap)
See sunrise. Be sober. Have woken for it. Excludes months Nov-Mar
- Take a walk and flip coins at each intersection
Win something
- Draft a will
- Take a roadtrip
Go to Italy already
- Sea Kayak around Abel Tasman Park (NZ)
Get plants
Take a train to another Eastern European Destination (accession countries are acceptable) alone preferably.
- Get UK to give me a provisional motorcyclists license and simultaneously get a 'card' license.
- Go SCUBA diving again - at least two dives lasting 30mins each.
Go to a dentist. *sigh*
- Do a Czech Wine Trail. And live to tell the tale
- Make an 'outbreak emergency kit'.
- Go to bed prior to 11pm every night (inc weekends) for four consecutive weeks.
- Marvel over lack of tiredness
- Dine at a Gordon Ramsey restaurant (or Nobu)- preferably for free.
Bet on the nags
- Do something for charity (applying and getting a 'red card' will count)
- Walk along the Champs Elysee
- Do 100 sit ups in a row
- Do 50 pressups (arms in tight)
- Make branston pickle (or nearest substitute)
- Cook something 'new' and 'adventurous' at least once a month
Find a mentor
Be a mentor
Learn what mentoring is all about
Meet an online person in real life
Resist the flirt. Once. Just one night. It's okay if people don't immediately succumb to my natural charm. Really it is.
Spend time at a spa (spa towns in the CR don't count)
- Send a care package to someone
Get a Tata Bojs CD
- Take a French/German/Dutch course and SPEAK THE DAMNED LANGUAGE WHEN I HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY EVEN THOUGH IT MAKES ME SOUND
LIKE AN IDIOT!
- Order new contact lenses.
Make a list of things I take with me when I pack for different occasions
- Eat lobster. Prepared by someone else.
Back up the blog
Put everything onto an external hard drive
- Find a DDR mat and console and 'dance, I say dance!'�
- Go to the beach and lie on the warm sand. For an hour. (with sunscreen on, natch)
- Take and complete a course in either: Tango, Salsa or Flamenco
- Join the Municipal Library of Prague
- Move to another country
Go to a live concert of a band I actually like
- Pay off debts (student loan excl.)
Send thank you cards for every gift I receive (other than the gift of happiness, blah blah blah).
- Get an agent (literary or theatre)
- Go to a sports bar without cringing, by personal choice
- Ride a rollercoaster
- Hold a snake
Spend a day wandering around a museum (not art gallery!)
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From a daughters perspective |
Monday, 19 June 2006 |
The women in my family are almost certifiable (confirm at your peril - we may be insane, but we're very protective too!); recently there's been another incident of "loggerheads". Most of us (to date) have either married and left home, run away, or ‘gone tertiary’ between the ages of 16 and 19.
In our family, (and I have an Attenboroughesque voice saying, ‘as on the savannah’ in my head!) this is a matter of survival: a daughter will surely commit matricide if she resides in her mother’s domain any longer – and who knows what the mother will commit.
This is because we’re strikingly similar: headstrong, stubborn, wilful, ambitious, determined. All those ‘describing words’ that are look good on the CV if you’re a money-hungry CFO – but aren’t really personal characteristics typical of ‘peace-agreement’ negotiators.
So: we pack our stuff (sometimes the mothers do this) and we leave.
A few weeks ago, one of our mothers told one of our daughters that she has to go, that she’ll not be welcome back. It’s sad, but somewhat inevitable.
I’m not going to take sides (it’s unfair to do so, I can't be objective: I AM a daughter, I haven’t one of my own!), but I want them both to know that I love them dearly. One’s my sister-cousin, and always will be. The other is my girl, my little-sister-who-isn’t – in the same way I’m my sister-cousin’s little-sister-who-isn’t.
And so I wish cool-tempers (ha ha ha ha ha ha) upon them both (who the hell am I trying to kid?). Luce, I hope you get into the college you want and start thinking about the future. SC, I hope things are more peaceful now. And if you manage to keep a healthy distance (Mum and I like it at around about 5000miles, right Mum?) who knows what might happen with your relationship in the future. It can only heal. Albeit slowly.
Having been piggy-in-the-middle/triangle-girl on Friday night (hence BIG tears, random txts to NZ, calling flaky boy and snarky txts to those I stormed out on), and given the heatwave that’s currently over us (I’m not complaining - not really - I just wish I had suitable shoes!), my mind is reminiscing over summer days at the beach, on li-lo’s, washing in and out of the waves, or lying in the sun, or throwing a ball around in the shallows, or picnics in parks, or soundshell evenings, or wine on balconies.
It may be time to investigate swimming pools. They’re called ‘bazens’ here (sounds like ‘basins’) which is a little off-putting. But apparently there are some watering holes up around the river (what’s a weir? Answered here!) that may beg exploration.
It was free-museum night on Saturday. Apparently, this annual event is a great place to pick up get some culture. A bunch of us (Adam, TLR, The-Charming-David and Marcus) checked out the Narodni Gallerie for an hour. Saw the French stuff again, the cubist things and my Orpheus. Now, having done a bit more research, I find I AM drawn to Woman with a Guitar – but I’m still not drawn to Cubism in general (esp. furniture: bleeeee!). And I found that if you un-focus your eyes, you can actually see some of what might have been the original scenario that resulted in such an oblique canvas by Picasso. But it hurts.
Home early on Saturday *gasp* (by early, I mean 2:30ish!) having visited our Herna (and witnessed, once again, the sleepiness of Adam!) then a leisurely wake up on Sunday, complete with breakfast at ‘the globe’ (which always makes me wonder whether I should keep an eye out for Peter Parker…even though the marvel directory assures me that it was the "daily globe") then shopping.
By the end of the shopping disaster (I hate flat sandals *whinge*) I was ready to hang up my basket of food and get the hell out. Especially when we saw the queues at Carrefour.
I know I’ve mentioned it before, but I may as well remind those in the civilised world (express lanes, 10-items-or-less lanes; wherefore art thou?) that one of the most lingering (and soul-destroying) remnants of the soviet era is the queuing. Apparently, if you don’t queue for something, then perhaps you don’t really deserve it. Maybe, when faced with so much (still new) choice, people dither about whether it’s an impulse purchase by the time they make the checkout…and therefore need ample time to come to their senses!?
Despite the supermarkets having been designed by some architect/engineer to have banks of checkouts, stretching as far as the eye can see, only two of them will ever be operational. And then, the operator will be inept. SERIOUSLY inept. Swipe the yoghurt over the laser TEN TIMES to hear the beep, rather than picking up your second IDENTICAL yoghurt and giving that a go instead, inept.
I’ve clearly been completely spoilt for choice in NZ (understandably; it’s so bloody green they had to turn EVERYTHING into an edible item, simply to have reason to clear space for infrastructure etc.) but why is it so hard to get baby spinach here!?!?!
Anyway. There I was, fuming to Adam about this sort of thing, when the woman in front of us turned and said, “would you mind just shutting up about it?”
What. The. Prague?!?!!?!??!
I’m sorry, did you miss that whole revolution for freedom of speech thing? Are you telling me, in my language, to be quiet in your supermarket?!!?!? Aren’t you supposed to be passive-aggressive instead of simply-aggressive? And where the hell did you get your crappy haircut/dye job…because I think you should be complaining to THEM not to me!
Completely shocked and aback-taken, Adam and I kind of looked askance of one another and then sniggered to ourselves and cursed her using her shopping. “May your 8L of ice cream be mush and full of ice crystals when you refreeze it, may your breath be as smelly as the 2ks of day-old-out-of-the-fridge emmentaal, and may your arteries harden instantly as you deep fry your family bag of hranolky.”
Who’s the passive aggressive one now, huh bee-arch!?
But hey! The weirdos people at girls with hairy arms think I'm sexy (according to their flicker comment!) - and that can't be a bad thing. Or can it?
Most surreal Saturday moment? Discussing a bisexual friend whom both A and I think is hot...and who gets to try... |
posted by Nomes @ Monday, June 19, 2006 |
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