| 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:
PilsnerStaroprammen- Budvar
- Velke Popovice
- U Fleku
GambrinusKrusovice
Respond to at least one GOARN request (WHO and MSF are
also acceptable)Travel across the AtlanticReturn 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 StirfryInvite 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 soloPublish in a scientific journal (top two authors)Cook a duck or other 'waterfowl'. Locate the Al-Timimi's from Doha Veterinary PractiseHave a pedicureMaintain 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 FlandersEverything is illuminatedMadam BovaryZen & the Art of Motorcycle MaintainanceCatch-22OdysseusOn 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 wallBuy a bed, build it, and sleep soundly in itGo to AfricaHost an 'event' (classified as and when)Organise a 30th Birthday PartyWear 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 plantsTake 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 mentorBe a mentorLearn what mentoring is all aboutMeet an online person in real lifeResist 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 blogPut 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!) |
|
| I'll show you mine, if you show me yours... |
| Friday, 8 December 2006 |
When I was young, and behaving deliciously inappropriately with people much older than me, we used to play the “compare scar stories” game.
Now my playmates have all grown up, I’m going to play it with you instead:
 1. Possibly my first major head trauma (there were many – I thought it obvious), I leapt off the changing table in an unprecedented (and sadly, unrecorded) gymnastic display. No doubt my parents considered, briefly, that I was going to be a leotard-wearing-anorexic-chinese-or-russian gymnast later in life. Before they collected my semi-conscious shell from the floor in the corner, where it lay bloody and still. I’ve always loved the element of surprise. To their astonished delight, I hadn’t managed to hang my left eyeball on the “only metal in the room” hinge of a sideboard, and had merely scraped my browbone instead.
Now, oddly, I have noticed a great many people of a similar age, with a similar scar in a similar space. I suspect there was one batch of formula that was momentarily contaminated with the stuff they give those gymnasts to keep them breathing.
2. When I was a young whippersnapper who liked to climb trees, build huts and play a variant of Robin Hood and Star Wars which meant that I could surround myself with the neighbourhood boys (and therefore, have minions do my bidding upon demand), we used to play in an area at the back of my house (accessible only through a rusted and vine’d gate (it really was like a fairytale) that we called “the bank” (because, lo, it was a steep bank). At the bottom of The Bank was a Scout Hut, and we seldom went down that far (it involved some rather inelegant ‘scrabbling’) but every now and then, we’d be adventurous. One such adventure saw me have the classic ‘rake on the ground’ accident, where a cartoon character steps on the prongs and is smacked in the head. In my incident: I stepped on a twig (branch) with my left foot, and kept exploring with my right, which led to the stick embedding itself in my right shin. Blood. Everywhere. Parents? None-the-wiser, as I had cleverly applied a poultice of spit, leaves and grass to the wounds.
 3. One day, I was visiting a terrarium at the zoo. I was tagging along behind a bunch of schoolkids who were visiting too, so that I could get the free ‘tour’. Anyway, while handling a spider, and showing how harmless it was to the kids – despite the fangs that it waved at everyone – the guide dropped it. It scurried up the wall, and most of the kids screamed. I may have even squealed. The guide quickly sprayed it (with what, we will never know) but it had already crawled up the wall. Bugger this ‘chemical’ crap, thought your fearless Nomes, who then squished the spider against the wall. Sadly, the chemicals reacted poorly with my skin – and…
a. …nah – I had a mole removed by an incompetent doctor working at a student medical clinic. Judging by his masterful butchery here, I’m surprised I wasn’t involved in any clandestine drug trials.
4. When I was engaged to l’infamous-tranny-shagger, I felt queasy one day (intuition?). I still didn’t feel well the next day, and the day after that, I stopped eating (ipso facto, the priest was on his way round for last rites). Eventually, I visited a doctor who told me to “wait in the reception, and we’ll get you to the hospital”. “Um, but I have my car, I could just drive it there…”, “er, no, I don’t think that’s wise”, “but I drove here 30 minutes ago”, “yes, and I’d rather you hadn’t done that either.” At the hospital, I waited in the emergency department for what seemed an interminably long time, before being informed I was going to have a telescope put into my belly. I made the junior doctor blush by asking when the laproscopy would occur, and was wheeled away to a less embarrassing ward. Then all the surgeons went on strike. Eventually, after many uncomfortable “but I’ve just drunk a litre of water, you can’t tell me to wait for the ultrasound” issues that involved the phrase “just let a little bit go, then”, I was eventually whipped away for surgery. Moments (it seemed) later, I was re-engaged (don’t ask) and throwing up into bowls everywhere. After a horrible night matron caused me to wonder whether an airbubble in my IV would cause my veins to explode, and a blood gatherer had turned me into a pin cushion, I was left with this reminder of my fun days in hospital.
And last, but not least:
 5. Knee operation to repair ACL injury gained while grading at NZ Freestyle Martial Arts. Ick! ‘Nuff said. I still haven’t got the feeling back in the skin (the first few layers, deeper down, I can feel stuff) on the left hand side of the vertical scar.
Now it’s your turn. Biggest and worstest scar please. And 9 wins already for the quantity – she’s a vet! |
posted by Nomes @ Friday, December 08, 2006   |
|
| 3 Comments: |
-
Hope you caught my plug of your blog a couple days ago. If not, GO LOOK!
hope all is well.
-
My jam burn has to rate in there somewhere! A scar about 1cm long and 1/2 cm wide on my forearm..I'm sure I've shown it to you before. It was from eating freshly baked muffins with jam inside..I was about 9 or 10 at the time and didn't realise they had just come out of the oven, bit into one and the (boiling) jam dripped onto my arm. It probably wouldn't have scarred as badly if I hadn't had my 2-3 year old twin sisters brush against the scab and pull it off numerous times before it got a chance to heal!!!
-
Hey Nomes - I can play this game :)
Approx. 2 foot-long scar on my back from spinal fusion surgery. Plus another approx. 3 inches on my hip from where they went in to harvest bone for the surgery.
Not accidental scars by any means, but ones I wear with pride. If I can get through that pain, I can get through anything!!
love, marisa
|
| |
| << Home |
| |
|
|
|
|
Hope you caught my plug of your blog a couple days ago. If not, GO LOOK!
hope all is well.