| 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!) |
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| Meme or Me! Me! |
| Friday, 25 January 2008 |
 What’s the biggest difference between men and women?
I think men are more capable of compartmentalising, such that they end up living in the ‘now’, whereas women seem more aware of the impact of the things they do on others, and consequently tend more towards living in the ‘if that, then when’ instead. I try to learn how to compartmentalise, but it just makes me feel ‘disconnected’ instead. I know that all of the things that affect me make me who I am at that given moment. This is occasionally hard to deal with (for me and others) because it means that I could respond differently from one time to another, even when faced with roughly the same situation. Consistency of behaviour would be nice, for a while at least.
Do you believe in fate?
I’m not sure whether I’d call it fate. I think that opportunity knocks, and you have the option to open the door or to bury your head under the covers. I also think that people choose either to stand BY the door, or to remain in the kitchen. I THINK I tend to stand in the hall, by the door, just waiting for it to knock. Call me Jeeves.
Are you an introvert or an extrovert?
I’m an extrovert to strangers, and become more introverted the better I know a person.
What’s your biggest extravagance?
Cosmetics. My shelf is FILLED to the brim with products and brushes. I love the stuff. The look of the bottles of perfume collected, the texture of the brushes all standing up in a collection, the feel of the unguents smoothed over my skin and the smell of the entire lot make me happy.
Are you a good liar?
I’m not good when I’m called up for a lie (at all, that’s when I just think “the game’s up” and cave completely, usually flushing with embarrassment and stammering included) but if I’m put on the spot, I can usually come out with something believable that puts the investigator of the scent. I try not to do it too frequently though, and certainly have been more honest with people (including, I think, myself) as I’ve gotten older. I will, however, obscure the truth if I feel that the knowledge won’t benefit the other person, or if I think it’s not my business to tell.
Are you closer to your mother or your father?
Instinctively, I’m closer to my father. Our sense of humour is similar. And I can be a bit of a grumpy old moo from time to time (more so frequently, as I’ve discovered what my parents figured out years ago: England is filled with lifeless, spineless zombies), so we can rant about stuff similarly. However, with distance and age, have come a respect, an understanding, and a deep appreciation for my mother, that continues to grow. I love both of my parents, a lot, for different reasons, and it’s an immense source of satisfaction for me to hear them happy – both individually and as a couple (role reversal?). It’s also a source of endless amusement to me to hear them squabble in the way they do. When this far away from them, I miss (most) hearing their two voices in the room at the same time.
What are you most proud of?
I probably should say “my PhD” or some equally academic topic. Back in the day (god, I LOVE being 30) I used to think that A’s = acceptance. Ha!
Nevertheless, in reality, I think what I’m MOST proud of are my collection of friends. My 30th birthday was (and will probably continue to be!) a complete revelation for me. I’d no idea how loved I was by so many, in many different ways. To allow myself for one moment, to think that I’ve affected all those many lives, is a horribly humbling thought, and one which I’m very, VERY proud of. It is also a very proud thought (so I’m all ready for the fall down the stairs later!) and since Pride is a deadly sin, one which I don’t allow myself the luxury of believing, too frequently.
When was the last time you got really angry?
I was furious with myself a few weeks ago, for making the mistake of believing that I could manage my own life. Seems I can’t – and I hate letting myself down like that. Two glasses of red wine quelled that particular storm though, AND assuaged the hunger that fed the anger.
Labels: Memes, Navel Gazing |
posted by Nomes @ Friday, January 25, 2008   |
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| If your life were a movie, what would the soundrack be? |
| Thursday, 16 August 2007 |
 So, Here's How It Works:
1. Open your music player
2. Put it on random/shuffle - whatever.
3. Play.
4. For each 'stage of life' put down the song title and artist.
5. Change songs for each new 'stage of life'.
6. Don't lie to try to be cool and skip songs. We know you've got dodgy stuff belonging to your parents on your 'puter. Opening Credits: Ready, Willing and Able - Doris Day (er, here we go then!)
Waking Up: Intimacy – The Corrs
First Day At School: The Irish Rover – The Pogues (How did they know this early???!)
Falling In Love: Blinky Blue Eyed Sunrise – Mutant (it sounds better than it looks)
Fight Song: Jane Doe – Alicia Keyes (yeah bearch! Get yo hands off ma mayan!)
Breaking Up: Fortunate Son - Credence Clearwater Revival (it ain’t me! Mwahahahahaha!)
Prom: One Day I’ll Fly Away – Nicole Kidman (I was the moody one on the balcony in a big dress)
Sex: Dark and Long – Underworld (I kid you not!!!)
Life: I am the Cosmos – Chris Bell (see? Even the universe agrees with me!)
Mental Breakdown: Murmullo – Buena Vista Social Club (a nice slow descent into madness, clearly!)
Drugs: The Perfect Kiss – New Order (!!!)
Driving: Part Time Lover – Elton John (obviously, top down in a convertible with a mate down a highway!)
Flashback: Champagne Supernova - Oasis (back to the good old long, dark days of the perfect kiss!)
Getting Back Together: All Apologies – Nirvana (oh, great!)
Wedding: Take on Me – Aha (I am SOOOO walking down the aisle to this!)
Honey moon: Use Me – Bill Withers (charming)
Birth of Child: Exhausted – Foo Fighters (a little shocking for the labour suite…)
Partners death: Clocks – Coldplay (does this mean I’ve been waiting for it to happen?)
Final Battle: Dirty Harry’s Revenge – Adam F/Beenie Man & Siamese (it’s a fast fight – involving cars, drugs, guns…possibly a bombed out ship at the docks).
Attempted suicide: Do You Remember – Phil Collins (am starting to feel slightly embarrassed now).
Death Scene: Fourth Rendezvous – Jean Michel Jarre (‘cos, y’know, I’ll be back before you know it – or I’ll always be with you, or something. It’s just the tiniest bit upbeat!!)
Funeral: Wasting My Time – Boomkat (quite – let’s all just go home then, huh?)
End Credits: Time of the Season – Big Blue Missile and Scott WeilandLabels: Memes |
| posted by Nomes @ Thursday, August 16, 2007 |
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| Lacklustre |
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 It's a 'meh' day today for one reason or another, so I'm meming it.
P.S. I did this one a while ago...but this time, I've commented.
You Know You Were an Expat Kid in the Middle East When...1. You can't answer the question, "Where are you from?" (And when you do, you get into an elaborate conversation that gets everyone confused and/or makes you sound very spoiled.)
This one couldn't be more true if it tried. It's the question that makes me groan, since answering it simply (Britain) gets the "surely not?" response due to the crazy accent (which is also often accused of being 'fake' - of course it's damned fake...there's no freaking COUNTRY for it...)
2. You flew before you could walk. 18mo old. Not sure whether I could walk or not...Mamma (oh, and please try not to embarrass me here!)?
3. You have a passport, but no driver's license. 2 passports: no driver's license...
4. You think California is cold. Anywhere less than 35oC is. Science fakt jo.5. You watch National Geographic specials and recognize someone. The photojournalist you met at the Dive Club. 6. You run into someone you know at every airport. I've only had this happen once (which is a tiny percentage of total airport time) but it freaked me out sufficiently to never-travel-long-haul-without-looking-like-a-member-of-the-human-race again. 7. Conversations with friends take place at 6:00 in the morning or 10:00 at night. Or 3:00am. I still have unresolved issues with time zones.8. Your life story uses the phrase "Then we went to..." five times. By this time, though, I'm monitoring the yawn/agog response carefully, and adapting my tale hencewith. 9. You can speak with authority about the quality of various international airlines. Qatar Airways has come a LONG way and is really lovely. Gulf - not so much these days. Cathay have the most legroom over Asia, but Singapore has the nicest steward/esse/s. Air France win on food - hands down - but lack on legroom so much as to be not-worth-the-price. Air NZ, Qantas and BA are for sissies who wish to be talked down to. 10. You feel self conscious around all white people. Well...they might mistake me for a terrorist or something. 11. You get offended when someone turns down an offer for food. But I love you, so EAT!12. You live at school and go home for vacation. Home? Ha ha ha ha13. You treasure pork and root beer as highly-valued commodities. Ham! Bacon! Pork scratchings! Ribs! Vomiting after overindulgence!14. You have ever had to wait for prayer call to be over to finish shopping. *sigh* A-shed-well-ah...ahh...ahhh....ahhhhhhhhhhh! (going up a few notes towards the end...)15. You are fascinated by any wildlife bigger than a gecko. "I can see something moving. It's, it's, a critter..."16. You know the true meaning of "football." (and in your mind can hear the shout, "GOAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!") GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!!!!!!17. You know that it truly is a small world. Which is why you must never do what it is you want to do outside of the privacy of your own closet. No, really. 18. You have ever gone to the "hammam" or endured a "shamal." "Skin, lovely skin. My kingdom for my skin."19. You get all the jokes in Aladdin. Merchant: Combination hookah and coffee maker, also makes Julienne fries. Will not break!
[taps it on table]
Merchant: Will not!
[it falls apart]
i.e. anything from the souq20. Rain is still one of the most wonderful sounds in the world. God yes. I heart my skylights.21. You haggle with the checkout clerk for a lower price. Well, duh! It's not the 'lower' price, it's the 'best' price. 22. Your wardrobe can only handle two seasons: hot and warm. And yet, still manage to keep my shoulders covered...23. Your school memories include duck-and-cover drills. And bomb scares spent on fields while the squads searched the schools. *wistful sigh*24. You are used to being stared at. What? That ISN'T normal? Kerb crawled too, it takes me ages to respond to a 'do you know where this street is?' question from an innocent driver!25. You think VISA is a document stamped in your passport, and not a plastic card you carry in your wallet. Usually squiggled on in an unintelligble language in response to a small helpful bill...26. You call a chicken burrito a "shwarma." *sob* If only it were half as good as the ones by TV roundabout...27. Your dorm room/apartment/living room looks a little like a museum with all the "exotic" things you have around. "It's a charcoal burner - obviously. Yes, it's gold. That's how it's done. That? Oh, that's a tissue box holder..." [fade to embarrassed silence]28. You've heard of or tried "hubbly bubbly." Want a large one. Need everyone to bring own mouthpieces. And honey flavoured tobacco...29. You've woken up in the middle of the night to watch the Superbowl on cable. Or the Rugby World Cup final. 30. You have sat in a "men's" or "women's" section in an airport, hospital, or restaurant. It's just so much decorous that way. 31. You know the geography of the rest of the world, but you don't know the geography of your own country. (Isn't Philadelphia its own state?) Do we HAVE states in Europe?32. Your best friends are from 5 different countries. New Zealand, Egypt, England, Palestine and Turkey. Your turn.33. You're spoiled. You know it. You're VERY spoiled. Aw shucks. You shouldn't have. 34. You ask your roommate when the houseboy is scheduled to come clean. Just had this EXACT question on the phone!35. You have never spent a summer with your friends from high school because you all go back to your home town/state/country June - August Some of us stayed for the sun, and went home at "seasons greetings" instead...36. Camping involves duning, getting stuck, and counting how many camels you saw. Two planks for getting a car out. Possibly a large tarpaulin. And there's never enough water. But the tan you have when you've actually just got sand all over you is very VERY smooth. 37. A sports tournament involves flying to another country in the Middle East. Doha College vs. Dubai College. *sigh* Memories.38. You remember when the first McDonalds in your country had its grand opening. I'd already left. 39. You got days off school for Christian and Muslim holidays. Well...'seasonal' days off...40. You secretely wished the rulers of other Middle Eastern countries would die so that you got days off school. Or that there'd be a coup. 41. Not being able to eat in public during the day during the holy month of Ramadan. Or smoke. Or drink. Unless you buried your head between your legs in the footwell of the Dodge...42. Traveling to the states required buying candy, CDs, and Abercrombie and Fitch clothing for your friends back overseas. Or chocolate other than galaxy. We didn't even have Cadbury's, people!!43. You are used to giving directions according to landmarks, not street names. "Ramada Hotel, C-ring road, yassar Mumtazah park roundabout, yemeen Al Mansoura, bas khallas, shukran" = Going home. 44. It's normal to wake up and have four or more Pakistani men fixing your AC. Actually, it's not. They'd say they'd come around and then they wouldn't for three days...45. You didn't know how to do your own laundry until you left for college. It's a kinda magic. 46. How come the houses in America don't have servants quarters? They're very versatile as teenage hangouts.47. You are used to seeing Arabic commercials dubbed in British English about Lux soap, Carnation condensed milk and Dove shampoo. Klim. Took me about four years to realise that the powdered milk brand name was milk backwards. 48. Seeing police drive on the shoulder of the road and cut people is not unusual. How else are they going to stop the racing?49. You understand that being addressed as "ma'am/sir" by Filipinos is not an insult. Better than 'oi you!'.50. You know someone is referring to Pepsi when they say "Bebzi". We didn't have the Coca-Cola corporation, people. 51. Having a walled in, cement house is standard. And cool in the summer, and warm in the winter. It just makes sense. 52. Ford Explorer sized cars seem small compared to Toyota Land Cruisers and Nissan Patrols. Or Dodge Ram Chargers. Hell yeah. 53. One word: 'yala'. I usually attempt to soften it with Habibi...54. You have a box of red label tea in your cupboard Bleee. It never gets better over time. Oddly, the Russian areas drink this a lot too. 55. You have ever had your hair cut in a "saloon" I wanted it permed. I was shown the error of my ways. 56. You prefer to bring lunch in a metal tin Stackable, natch.57. You know that pillsbury makes naan But that you can't get it here.58. Any time you submit an application, you attach 500 riyals to "help" it along. This is the going price for two passport photos, right?59. You call a taxi a limo, and are confused when it's not a mercedes With a face like an otter.60. you roll your eyes everytime you hear a politician/news reporter say "eye-rack" *sigh*61. The speed limit is just good advice, not something really to pay attention to. Otherwise they'd police it.Labels: Memes |
| posted by Nomes @ Thursday, August 16, 2007 |
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| A different sort of interrogation |
| Wednesday, 8 August 2007 |
 1. You and Jesus go out to dinner - who pays?
Given I would have spent the entire dinner ordering water and asking him to, ‘y’know, do yo thang’, I’m sure he’d have climbed out of the window. But I’d know the answer to the question “if you start with bubbly water, will you end up with champers?” – not to mention a bill for 5 glasses of water.
2. You suddenly have to flee the country and adopt a new name…what would it be?
I am ALWAYS fleeing the country, and undergoing name changes. I can’t think what the next one will be, but perhaps Morgana Llewellyn. I shall also be growing my hair long and wearing flowing gowns – and living amongst a pagan settlement in Wales, possibly making spells.
3. Pick one state in the U.S. to get rid of permanently?
Er? Rid of? Like Atlantis? Or just abandon from the U bit of the US name? I don’t know, what a ridiculous question.
4. You wake up as the opposite gender. What's the one thing you wanna do?
Walk down the street, and take a pee against someone else’s wall, just because, y’know, the urge hit me suddenly, and I no longer have to wait.
5. Luke Skywalker or Han Solo?
Duh! Han Solo. Skywalker is WAY too whiny.
6. Toy you always wanted but never got as a child?
Horse (okay, not sure it counts as a ‘toy’ per se, but My Little Pony was also on the list).
7. What was the worst thing you ever ate?
Liver. Also: kidney. Blee.
8.The last time you laughed until your stomach hurt?
Tuesday, most likely. Hanging with the person who makes me laugh the most.
9. What is the last movie you saw that actually scared you?
The Ring.
10. Stupidest thing you've ever said out loud?
I’m one of those people who start sentences and don’t finish them. A lot. Usually because I realise it’s going to come out all stupid.
11. You're sentenced to death and its the morning of your execution: what do you want to eat?
What a lovely thought. It depends on the time of my impending death. I mean, either I’m having ‘breakfast’ or I’m having my ‘last meal’, so there’s a world of difference folks. I bet Mum would be chuffed to know I’d like her slaving over a hot stove on my penultimate evening, but a slice of her filet de boef en croute (avec les champignons s’il te plait!) with roast veges would go down a treat. Followed, possibly, by a cheese plate. On the other hand, if I’m particularly nervous, I might limit it to a piece of Viv’s cheesecake, or go really ‘supermarket’ and get some Philadelphia on digestives into me. Mmmmm. Philadelphia. (“Oh my God!! I’ll be able to buy cream cheese!!!”)
12. What's something that most people do that you've never done?
Get married. Have a baby. Divorce. (note: ‘most’ in this case is defined by >50% females aged 30 in western society)
13. Before you die you want to go to...?
Africa. Deepest darkest, want-to-climb-Mt-Kilimanjaro-before-I-die Africa.
14. What's the last thing you ate?
A refresher.
15. A wild animal you'd like to have as a pet?
A leopard. Or an otter.
16. A drug you'll never try?
Heroin. (Dad must be so proud that there’s a line drawn!)
17. If you were an animal, what would you be?
Er, leopard. *sigh*
18. If you had to marry someone you knew at the age of 12, who would it have been?
12? Where was I? Oh yeah: Doha. Amr. We’re still friends now, that’s gotta count for something right?
19. What's something a lot of people don't know about you?
I want everyone to like me. (okay, so maybe a lot of people already know that, but do they know that I know that I know it?)
20. First celebrity crush?
Pierce Brosnan. Big thanks to Mamma, who let me stay up and watch Remington Steele. *swoon*
21. What's a weapon to suit your personality, habits and abilities?
Bow and arrow. Stand at a distance, aim, fire. Precision shots. Walk away unscathed.
22. Best flavor of runts?
Aren’t they like nerds? 9, help a girl out here…
23. Favorite breakfast bread style (pancakes, waffles, toast etc...).
Eggs Montreal (poached on a split, toasted English muffin that’s been slathered with Philadelphia (again) and smothered with smoked salmon, before being liberally doused with grapefruit hollandaise. Oh, and with a dollop of sun-dried tomato pesto on the egg too.)
24. Favorite movie?
The Crow/Blues Brothes/Reservoir Dogs/The Goonies/Star Wars/Ice Age/The Holiday – I’m a movie whore…I like nearly everything I see.
25. Worst way to die?
Lonely. (lonelily?)
26. Grossest injury you've ever seen?
A friend of mine rode his bike into a pile of bricks at the bottom of our garden and was extricated from them complete (!?) with a compound fracture of his tibia. Purdy. That and my brother lying still in a spreading pool of blood against the steel beams (also at the bottom of our garden – I swear, it was deadly down there) with one tooth jammed up into his soft palette and the other one knocked out – having raced ME to the bike shed (and lost, obviously)…that was pretty horrible.
27. The worst injury you've ever had?
ACL rupture due to a sweep failing miserably (well, other than that it did take me down – and out – quite successfully) whilst sparring at my brown belt grading.
28. Favorite thing about Thanksgiving?
We don’t do that. But I’m sure I’d really like pumpkin pie.
29. Sport you hate the most?
Snooker. Or darts. I mean, really. Those are ‘games’ not ‘sports’.
30. What state in the US do you want to visit?
New York.
31. What's something you think would be sweet to know everything about?
How the brain works.
32. Favorite Actor/Actress?
For what? Acting? Or just to drool over? Not answering this one.
33. What's one phrase you absolutely detest?
”Show us yer tits.”, I mean, really – can you not come up with anything more original?
34. What makes an awesome party?
Great people, environment, accompaniment and entertainment.
35. What's your favorite material possession?
It’s really a collection of four items: the beaded whiskey bottle originally given to my Grandma, the peacock feather fan given to me by Mamma, the Rangitoto island picture given to me by David and the Moroccan lamp I hauled back from Fez.
36. What's something that most consider an insult but you enjoy having said about you?
”You’re too much.” Yes, I am. Now deal with it, or get the out of my way.
37. Favorite kind of dog(s)?
Weimeranas, Greyhounds, and Dobermans (men?) – short fur, nice temperaments, no jowls. Ooh…just how I like my men.
38. Favorite carnival food?
Battered 5th grade meat products on a stick, dipped in Whitlocks tomato sauce. I heart manfield.
39. Morning or night person?
Towit – towooo…
40. What's the worst part about taking the bus?
The smell of wet laundry when it’s been raining and the bus is warm. That and not being able to see your stop out of the window when it’s steamed up. Or is that: what’s the worst part about the rain?!
41. Weirdest Ebay purchase?
Dice. Don’t ask.
42. Who's your man/woman crush?
Clive Owen, Wentworth Miller or Ioan Gruffudd (his name will go so well with my secret new identity, no?)
43. Its Saturday at 3am.?
And I’m dancing with mates, holding a vodka, lime and soda in one hand.
44. Who's your favorite friend to go out with?
Well, Lira – except she’s on the other side of the world. So, J1 or J2 fit the bill. Pretty much for everything – except shopping. I’m a solitary shopper.
45. Worst job you've ever had?
I liked all my jobs. Sort of.
46. What's something your friends make fun of you for?
Me thinking I’m shy. I am, damnit.
47. Favorite cereal?
Oats. Puffed/rolled/toasted: I like me them oats.
48. Book you could read repeatedly?
RepEATedly? So not just twice? Sheesh: The Book of Questions then. Cos it’s not really a ‘read’ as such – but it IS a page turner (I should get into copywriting shouldn’t I?).
49. What's the meanest thing you've ever done?
Lived well. Oh yes, THAT revenge is the sweetest.
50. If you were drafted into a war, would you survive?
Given I’d be in the ‘intel’ section, it’s possible I wouldn’t. I mean: have you any idea how hostile those Welsh sheep really are when they find out you’re a spy?
Note: tales from London to follow.Labels: Memes |
| posted by Nomes @ Wednesday, August 08, 2007 |
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| Ya think? |
| Monday, 30 July 2007 |
 One really must check the “who links to my blog” more frequently (I try to avoid it to avoid looking quite so desperate). Turns out that I was nominated (in a very, backwards compliment, kind of way) by Daddy Papersurfer – an old git (my father finally has a blog? No no, just turns out there are multiple old gits out there! ).
Anyway, this is apparently “blogs that make you think”. And the rules are straightforward (and below).
Now, the idea is that someone saw my blog, read parts of it, and it made them think. But what, exactly? Did they think that I was as narcissistic and vain as all that? (probably) Did they wonder over evolution and the theory of relationships? (most likely they didn’t get that far back) Did they consider moving to Prague? (don’t. Just don’t do it you masochistic freak) Did they apply for EPIET (actually, I have it on good authority that some did)? Or did they wonder where they could hire a boat in Menorca (yes, apparently)?
But real, true thinking? Thinking of the sort that philosophers have methods (and probably taxonomy for those methods) for? I doubt it. A lot.
My blog is merely an online journal, briefly touching on the bits of my life that make me go ARGH! I realise how self-obsessed this is. But one of the main reasons I set up this blog was that I was soon to be moving from one side of the world to another. Away from friends and family, to a totally foreign environment. Although the new environment is (predominantly) white, and (again, predominantly) developed (depending upon your definitions), that’s where the similarities ended. As I soon found out upon arrival, and have continued to discover during my stay.
The people are different. Not as friendly and open as kiwis. They won’t just let you into their lives, and hope that you turn out to be ‘one of the good guys’. They’ll wait until they’ve known you for 20 years first. The expats WILL let you into their lives, but begrudgingly, almost immediately with a sense of ‘the betrayal to come’ – knowing that at some point either you, or they themselves, will be leaving this city for greener pastures.
The lifestyle is different from that at home. No bus rides into wine country here. No long bbq’s up at a house on a hill overlooking a harbour. No massive parties complete with police invasions, hourly visits from noise control and a constant stream of taxis driven by incurious drivers. No smirting outside (flirting for cigarettes) bars since ‘the ban’. No musical theatre. No fitness and health craze. No cocktails on the waterfront. No skating on the waterfront. No bloody waterfront at all (do not even so much as DARE to mention our bridges here, I may come through the screen screaming like a banshee and gouge your eyes out with a spoon).
People look at me oddly when I mention I’m living with 5 people – here, that seems akin to ‘hostelling’. Our upstairs flat demands we be quiet after 10pm (or we get snarky letters from our landlords). There is dog poo EVERYWHERE in this city. The parks (in which the dogs also roam free) are loaded with dangerous things, dog poo piles and tick-borne-encephalitis bearing arthropods. The haircuts and fashion are atrocious: so much so that I wish I’d been sufficiently brazen to document the worst for you all – it’s to be seen to be believed. There are beer gardens. There is beer, everywhere. That’s if you can see through the smoky haze that forces one to “think of the children” being systematically poisoned from (often) the moment of conception. People here appear undernourished, their poor skin decrying the lack of nutrients and minerals in their diets. Bandy legs abound (it’s a vegetable, even if it’s not cabbage!) and too many people are too thin. Until, of course, they turn 30, when all of a sudden, the women become blousy and apple shaped with the sourest of countenances and the men…Ugh. I wonder if drinking a lot of beer and the development of man breasts are correlated.
In other words, the longer I’ve been here, the more I’ve thought of myself as Dorothy. This sure as bloody hell ain’t Kansas now, Toto. And you all have hopped aboard the “Mis-adventure” train (wreck) every now and then to share in the (vain)glorious yellow brick road. I appreciate your company more than you’ll ever know. I’m thrilled that so many of you have ‘stuck with me’ and continue to read le blog.
I’m not sure what will happen to said blog when I move again (10 weeks, ELEVEN!!!!) because I’ll be moving to a place more LIKELY to be akin to home. Just like everyone else there, I’ll probably start complaining about the weather, the cost of everything, and the transport (I will really miss the DPP). But whatever happens, I’ll know that you, and this blog, got me through some of the weirdest and hardest times yet in my short existence. And some of the best.
I’m not sure whether I’ve made you think, so I’m jus gonna offer an advice soundbite instead. Love like you’re not scared of it and live life the way you want to live it; there’s only one of you, you’ve only got one chance, so you may as well damned well do what feels good.
I do. Sometimes it’s worked, sometimes it hasn’t. But hell, the ride has been marvellous, thus far, and I’ve met some AMAZING people whose impact upon me will never dissipate with miles.
So thanks.
1. If you are nominated, write a post with links to 5 blogs that make you think*
2. Link to this post so that people can easily find the exact origin of the meme,
*The problem is, I use blogs to escape, not as food for thought. So: here are those to which I escape most frequently: Mamma Martini, Oh The Irony, Lucy Pepper, Rick and Ariel.Labels: Memes |
| posted by Nomes @ Monday, July 30, 2007 |
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| Why do we do it? Because it's me me me! |
| Friday, 20 July 2007 |
Hi, my name is Miss Mediocre.
| You Have Many Alpha Tendencies | 
You're not a total alpha female, but you certainly know how to - and like to - get your way.
You're forceful without being intimidating. You're confident without being vain. A perfect mix. |
| You Are a Drama Princess (or Prince) | 
You're not over the top dramatic, but you have your moments.
You know how to steal the spotlight...
And how to act out to get your way.
People around you know that you're good for a laugh.
But at times, your drama gets a bit too much for everyone.
Tone it down a tad, and you'll still be the center of attention. |
| Your Dream Engagement Ring Has a Marquise Diamond! | 
Like most Marquise diamond wearers, you are sexy and impulsive.
You're also good at getting what you want in life, no matter what it is.
You tend to be successful at love, your career, and anything else you desire.
Think Victoria Beckham and Catherine Zeta Jones: proud wearers of this ring! |
Labels: Memes |
| posted by Nomes @ Friday, July 20, 2007 |
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| At long, long last. |
| Tuesday, 17 July 2007 |
 I’m FINALLY one of the cool kids. Someone’s invited me to play along on the playground. I wasn’t the last picked because the team leader ‘had to’ as I was the last standing (who else HATED that whole ‘selection’ in ‘games’?). So thanks London Lass, for knocking on my door and asking if I could come out to play. Now, I have to reveal 7 things about myself. Everyone else seems to have done this in a concise manner. I did it ages ago (I told you I tagged myself…embarrassing, but I was always prone to be a bit of a loner…) and was far more verbose. So here goes on the short and sweet. - I can do that tying-a-cherry-stalk-into-a-knot-without-using-your-hands thing.
- I make contingency plans for stressful conversations I think I’ll have (it’s exhausting).
- I’ve moved house nearly every year since 1995.
- I own two tiaras but haven’t purchased one (Mum & Lira)
- Most of my salary has gone on partying and flights.
- I used to own a house by a beach in NZ.
- I thought I was the cat who walked by herself, but I’m revisiting that opinion.
Now I just think I’m under-growed-up: tiaras, partying, moving, and ‘seductive’ moves with fruit. Hmm…. Your turn: Triplux, Bonfires, Angry, Homo, DQ, Glitter, JonnyB. Apologies to all bloggers who are now ‘double tagged’. Or who also think, "who does this young (oh, please?) upstart consider herself to be, to tag the amazing moi?". Clearly, the joy of being included has gone to my head. Forgive me blog overlord, for I have transgressed.
Labels: Memes, Navel Gazing |
| posted by Nomes @ Tuesday, July 17, 2007 |
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| Marbles |
| Monday, 16 July 2007 |
I grew up (11-17) in a very hot city. I’m reminded of that place now, as my current city of abode heats, stretches, swelters and buckles under the ever-growing sun of the northern hemisphere continental summer.
But so much was different there.
Here, we have an urban concrete, plaster and brick jungle, with cobblestones underfoot – ankle/leg breaking terrain if ever there was– interspersed sporadically with leafy green parks; there we had dirt tracks, four-wheel drives and that silicon talc smell that I associate with the hot barren desert.
Here: it’s hanging baskets and window boxes with peonies and phlox while there: it was a rockery with some hardy succulents, beautiful bougainvillea and a solitary oleander.
Here: dogs (and their excreta) are in abundance, on leashes, off leashes, muzzled or not, racing, loping, lolling and much loved. There; it was haram to so much as touch a Saluki, that the animal shivered on our table and shied from our touch as we picked the tick infestation from its ears and vaccinated it against rabies.
Here we have parquet, the intricacies of carefully carved slivers of wood held together by little more than the artists tessellated design; a dramatic, busy underfoot backdrop to everyday apartment existence.
There: marble; cool to walk across, pale pink, streaked with blue and white, and extending in tiles through the lounge, dining room, out onto the patio, and up through the hallway that linked the ‘family’ areas to the ‘sleeping’ areas.
I remember the cats. One cat was almost the same colour as our marble (a pink cat?) with strawberry blonde ginger patches on her pale white coat. She (more so than he) would come into the house, out of the shade of some tree she’d been under, slink past the kitchen without so much as a glance at the food dish, wander through to the lounge, and then collapse on her side, stretched out across a marble slab to try to cool her body down.
I remember cleaning that marble after my mothers 40th birthday party. The Persian rugs had been lifted, shifted and stored for the celebrations, and there had been over 100 people traipsing in and out of the house from 7 in the evening till midday. There’d been a buffet as well as a continuous flow of alcohol. The floor was to sticky what the moon is to cheese (Monday Mensa throwaway there). And there was much swabbing and squeegeeing to be done. My job (since I am much enamoured of the makeover ‘before and after’ concept), carried out in my tutu: the leftover balloons, t-shirt, shorts and doc martens.
All jobs have an ‘outfit’.
But most of all, I remember the ever-present slight trepidation of walking across that floor. There’s nothing quite as slippery as a marble floor. Stilettos skitter like nervous horses, despite being worn by graceful individuals (we had well-heeled visitors occasionally). And if it’s wet, good gracious (er, who let Enid Blyton in?). The potential for calamity (especially for the awkward and deportment-free Nomes) was so huge that the safety officer of the house would bark that something be cleared up immediately.
And those slightly hesitant Bambi-style steps continue to be the ones use today. Sure, it seems to all and sundry (hello sundry, you really ought to think about that deed poll name change, methinks. This one is a bit indiscriminate, innit?) that I launch myself off the diving board straight into the pool under the sign that says “10,000 fathoms deep!”. Sometimes it might even seem to me as though I’ve added additional weights to my ankles – just to keep the odds of “sink or swim” a bit more ‘gaming’.
But in actual fact, I still slide my feet over the surface of existence. I still keep one foot firmly planted, just in case I should trip and fall. So when I do stumble and topple – and land hard – it hurts (marble doesn’t yield like parquet). Hard so it bruises. That fear of bruises has continually stopped me from taking as many risks as I may have appeared to have taken.
But maybe: just maybe, I’m starting (now that I’m 30, and, like, totally an adult) to have a bit more faith in myself. Perhaps I can start graduating from granddad slippers to wedge heels and lifting the back foot a little more. Perhaps this next step of my life (new job: new country, come October) will go as luckily for me as the rest has. Perhaps I need to lie down on some cool marble once in a while and chill for a bit.
I’ll try not to pant like the cat did.
*photo to follow once I’ve scanned in the tutu. Really, it's worth the wait!
Labels: Memes, Memories |
| posted by Nomes @ Monday, July 16, 2007 |
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| Narcissism hits new highs |
| Wednesday, 4 July 2007 |
Narcissistic as I am, when a friend told me that he thought my face might be symmetrical, or as near as damnit to it, I figured I'd put this theory to test. He wished for me to send him the photographic evidence by e-mail, but I claimed overprotective vanity (well, they're a bit 'passport' aren't they?). However, popping them up on the internet is NOTHING. Now, I've played with the images. I know you can look at the background in the middle photo (the 'normal' one) and use that to determine which one is my 'right side' or my 'left side' duplicate. BUT: did I flip it around? There's ONE blemish (a mole) under my eye that I cunningly disguised using MSoft Paint, so that you can't use that. Other than those two digital amendments (or maybe just one...who knows?) the images are 'pure'. Taken in my bedroom. Yesterday morning, while standing facing the skylight over the futon - for those who ARE OCD and require such minutiae.
 Points go to the people who can distinguish which one is my right side (as I stand - not as you look at me) and which is my left. And even MORE points go to the people who end up repeating this little exercise in Picasa/Powerpoint/Paint and posting their results (or e-mailing them to me - I'm not fussy, merely curious).
It's not that I'm crowning myself attractive (though, y'know, if the tiara fits...) but I'm very curious to know whether or not my mates are equally as 'almost' symmetrical to me. I really am.
And because it's the week of online-tests, here's the one I did to receive this charming result (note: only the 'very highs' are produced, I figure you needn't know how OCD I am...except not 'very high'!):
Labels: Memes, Navel Gazing |
| posted by Nomes @ Wednesday, July 04, 2007 |
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| A rose by any other.... |
| Tuesday, 5 June 2007 |
YOUR REAL NAME: (check your passport)
Naomi Samantha Boxall (as in: Bewitched. Or, I like to pretend. Apparently, more as in: a cat my mother once had. Awesome. I shall name my daughter Alexia.)
YOUR GANGSTA NAME: (first 4 letters of real name + izzle.)
Naomizzle
yeah - like anyone's gonna pronounce THAT properly!
YOUR DETECTIVE NAME: (favorite color + favorite animal)
Silver Cheetah
Isn't that the car I'd prefer to drive?
YOUR SOAP OPERA NAME: (your middle name + street you live on)
Samantha Smilovskova.
She's a single nurse who works the night shift, because she has a bit of a thing for a coma patient, who's brother is ALSO quite hot, who comes to visit every evening, and she bends the visiting hours rule, in the vain hope that she'll be noticed...
YOUR PORN STAR NAME: (your first pet’s name + street you grew up on)
Max Bradgers-Hill
Upper class totty. Oh yeah.
YOUR STAR WARS NAME: (the first 3 letters of your last name + first 2 letters of your first name)
Boxna
She morphs. I'm not quite sure FROM what TO what, but she morphs. She's silver.
YOUR SUPERHERO NAME: (second favorite color + favorite alcoholic drink)
Purple Cosmopolitan.
She can burn citric acid at a 1000 paces. She chills a martini glass with one withering stare. Limes mulch THEMSELVES when she points her finger. And no one, no one, suffers from UTI's.
YOUR WITNESS PROTECTION NAME: (your parents’ middle names)
Leslie George
Well, with a name like that, I'm only going to be found if someone's looking behind floral 70's style curtains.
YOUR GOTH NAME: (black + the name of your pet)
Black Memnoch. Or Black Mefitis. Or Black Lestat (RIP - now that's GOTTA be goth).
I haven't done a goth thing in ages, which makes a change from my once weekly ritual of overindulging in pretty eyeliner and glitter combinations. Yes. I was a pretty goth.
YOUR ARABIC NAME: (second letter of your first name + third letter of your last name + fourth letter of your middle name + second letter of your moms maiden name + third letter of you dad’s middle name + first letter of a siblings first name + last letter of your mom’s middle name - if you make it this far!!)
Axaiare
I sound like a poison. I can live with that.Labels: Memes |
| posted by Nomes @ Tuesday, June 05, 2007 |
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