Category Archives: friendship


Five days and no blogging! I’m really sucking lately.  I went out on Saturday night for drinks with a friend who turned a year older and still looks five years younger than me. Which isn’t entirely fair, but I forgive her, because she’s precious. I totally said mad things, as I do when I’ve just downed my fifth beer.  Who does that? FIVE beers. And five days! Maybe that’s a new magic number for me? I’m not proud of the five beers by the way, but it was so much fun!  No, it really was. I don’t think I was as ridiculous as I could have been, but I was certainly ridiculous.  Ollie was the star of the night, all quiet and trying not to be noticed in the corner.

“Who does he look like?” I kept being asked. “Keanu Reeves?” I offered to an astounding “YES! THAT’S IT! Although, there is also a resemblance to Scott Baio.” She said, and Oliver was suitably mortified. Come on though, Scott Baio was pretty hot back in the day. I remember being pretty fond of him myself.  I later heard that the quote of the night was “How did you get Neo to come to your birthday party?” Honestly, we need to get him a Matrix jacket.  He already has the glasses.  Sort of.  And he is forever asking me if I want the red pill, or the blue pill.  I’m not sure I’m ready for either actually. Just give me the white one with lots of water. Or coffee..or actually, I’m more partial to a good tea these days. Does that mean I’m getting old?

Anyway, it was so much fun. I danced and didn’t hurt my back, and I may have found the young guy who was celebrating his 21st a little too precious for his own good.  Honestly, what a honey. He needs a girlfriend. Unfortunately Miss 19 who could also be my daughter, is engaged to be married.  I know, I was as horrified as you are. “Hang on a minute” she said to me “how old were you when…YOU HAD BABIES!?!?!”  I’m completely aloof about it. “Oh, that doesn’t count.  That was back in 1996 when you were only what 12!!  Prehistoric years ago!  That’s what we did back in THE OLDEN DAYS!”  I don’t think she bought it.

I’m sure I was going somewhere with that. Oh! Right! Cute Mr Just Turned 21!  How engaging young people are! I felt hideously old and maybe slightly pervy. It was lucky I had my husband with me, because when you’re with your husband, you’re only slightly pervy right?  Anyway! We set up our husbands. Or, she did. So mean of us. It was -flawlessly- executed though I have to admit. I’d come around the table to tell her we were going to go, because Ollie was starting to look wilted and the loud live jazz music was making him age just listening to it – it was so good, by the way – and obviously, we got talking as girls do.  Then we’re realising, that our husbands – who are both Asian, and  half of that Asian was coincidentally Chinese, that they obviously must have LIFETIMES of talk in them.  So we squeezed out, and surreptiously looked at them both, like we were setting them up for a date, and they caught on, instantly. As they would…but still, we persisted, and then were squeezed down the table towards one another, where they both played into our game and talked.  And we sat there feeling mighty and wonderful, for having successfully hooked up our marvellously gorgeous Asian husbands.

Actually, they might have had more in common than their half Chineseness, but neither of us cared. We just wanted to look at them and go “aren’t they ADORABLE?! Look at them bonding!”  Did they bond?  Well, they gave it a very good go I think, and probably only so that we would leave them alone and stop trying to force instant attractions between them. It also meant that I got at least another half hour of being out with adult people, in an adult setting, which I was extremely pleased about.  But what I think I really wanted to mention was that we decided – that’s right darling, you’re not getting out of it now, because I REMEMBER EVERYTHING! Even when I’m drunk…to do NaNoWriMo together, this year. Right? Masters Degree aside, we’re going to do it!  Yes we are! I’m excited.  Course, I should be writing now. I really should be.  I will. I’m going to do it it, very soon. And then, that means, by November, I’ll have a good chunk done and can be mad and unseemly and rush through the entire month of November, by the skin of my teeth successfully writing 50,000 words in 12 days again!  That’s just how I roll, internet. You’ll get used to it.

You know, it’s been so very long since I’ve been out, not just in this city, but anywhere at night, that I was utterly struck dumb by – yes obviously the price of drinks – but also, the amount of people who go out and just co-exist outside, in the cold, wearing barely anything!  We followed out a girl who was so tall her ass was eye level with me, and I’m not sure if she was wearing a skirt, or if it was a belt and she forgot her skirt, but I was transfixed to her derriere right up until she finally lead us out of the huge mingling of people and onto the street. You know, young people wear the most amazing..and..okay I admit, sometimes downright frightening ensembles. I wonder if old people used to look at me and think the same thing. I expect they did, considering the lack of clothing I used to wear.

Also, I’m a little disturbed that I’m thinking this way.  Oh dear lord, I’m going to wake up deaf and geriatric. Wait…I think I already have.

Love You ‘Til The End.

Today is my anniversary. Ollie and I are celebrating 14 years together and three years of marriage. It seems insane to think we’ve been together that long.  He just turned 32, and here we are, with almost a life time of memories that we share with one another.  We just got home from Nelson last night, and we had a really nice time. Pictures are coming! He took some awesome ones. My nephew is so deliciously squishy and perfect, and my niece has Siobhan wrapped around her little finger. They were adorable. She fell asleep on Siobhan’s knee one night, all curled up over her while we played games.

It was a really lovely trip. We didn’t do a whole lot and I put my back out somehow, but aside from that, Nelson was as beautiful as always, deliciously warm and homely. I still feel like I’m home when I go there.  Coming back to Christchurch, and our house and the cats is wonderful though. Today we didn’t do a whole lot actually. I slept in, Ollie took his mother out and they bought a car, I know! For her, not for us. Our car still goes, and with his wonderful patch up job?  It’s almost as good as new. No, really.

It’s been a really strange day actually. We haven’t planned anything, because we just spent 5 days in Nelson, so most of it, I’ve spent catching up with things to do with friends.  Such angst and dramas! It’s amazing what happens when you go away and how much just kind of goes wrong and haywire. But in the end, maybe it’s for the best…I’ve always known I spend too much time online and not enough time writing. We could certainly use a bestseller under my belt. Or at least, a decent attempt at one. I have very mixed emotions on a lot of things right now, a lot to think about.  I’m such a social animal, and this place is where I’ve come for a lot of my interactions, but maybe that too needs to change.

Anyway, in fourteen years, I can’t say that my love has dwindled at all. I still look at my husband and wonder how I got so lucky. Particularly when our kids friends go “Is that your older brother?!?!”  And know exactly who I am!  Good lord, is he now my son?  It’s terrible that I age and he stays ageless. Still, right now he looks about 50 with all the hair on his face that he refuses to shave because he’s “on holiday” and his teeshirt over his head.  He’s cooking me dinner tonight, although I’m not sure he realises it yet, hee!

But seriously, Oliver, I love you more than life itself. Without you, I’m nothing.  With you, I can face everything life and everyone in it throws at me. Thanks for the memories, for the future we still have to look forward to, for the amazing daughters you blessed me with, for all the hot drinks, for listening to me even when you’re tired of the same gripes, for not forcing me to be anyone other than who I am, for forgiving me for being who I am, for the hugs, the kisses, the warmth and the affection, for singing me love songs, for the way you’re so willing to listen to my ideas, for your advice – I really do listen, for being unconditionally there for me, for dealing with my breakdowns, for forgiving me when I’m wrong, for apologising when you’re wrong, for the tears and the grumpiness and the tenderness afterwards…for keeping me grounded in a world where I spend more time in the clouds than I do walking on a hard surface.

Thank you, for marrying me, for being the best friend I could ever hope for, for allowing me to be a part of your life.  You’re all I’ve ever needed, all I want, and all I have ever dreamed of. I got lucky when I snagged you.

I love you.

Steal Away…

I have all this music on iTunes, and I never get to listen to it all, because I randomise it and it just plays, all day long. Sometimes, I’ll hear something new that Ollie has added and I’ll pause and check it out, take it off random and listen to the whole album. Usually, I’m really pleased by what I hear. I did that today, and the album was so great. I forgot to put it back on random, and the next album to play, was The Best of The Furies.

I grew up listening to this music. It’s so amazingly beautiful and makes me nostalgic. It’s almost over and I looked to see what was next. Leonard Cohen. Oliver really hates Leonard Cohen, and I secretly bliss every time it comes on. I’m going to leave it, he’s busy killing things on his xbox, so it doesn’t really matter anyway. He won’t hear it. Anyway, it gets me thinking, and when I think, for some reason, I end up slightly meloncholy, and want to tell everyone just what they mean to me.

I had a long conversation with a very good friend the other night. About friendships and love, and relationships in general. I think I’m really lucky to have found the people I have in my life. They’re all so very different and special to me. Sometimes I think I give too much, but then, when they give back, I’m really touched. I love that they let me into their lives, and give me their trust. It’s an amazing feeling to be able to listen to people tell you things that they may have no one else to tell. One of my best friends in the entire world and I had coffee today – actually, I had a mango smoothie and a double cheeseburger and I loved every filthy inch of it! And I love to listen to her talk. She amazes me. She’s one of those people that you’d just never expect to say some of the things she does. She’s utterly captivating. The cafe girl said “are you two together?” And she said “yes! Oh, I don’t know, -are- we together Kelly? Yes we are aren’t we darling!” And tossed her arm around me and squeezed me close. “Of -course- we are!” I replied a little shocked there was physical contact – it’s a long story, but totally thrilled at the same time.

I was thinking, after my conversation with this other friend…about how often girls say “I love you” to each other. It’s been with me now, since we talked. I don’t know about you, but my girlfriends are extremely important to me. There is something so special about friendships with women. There always has been, hasn’t there? We sometimes forget about them, and let them slip, and to be perfectly honest, I’m one of those people who has very few female friends. Very few I take the time to go out with and enjoy the company of. I’m not sure why that is, I think it’s because, I tend to give so much of myself, that I’m afraid of having too many people close to me. Because I will tell you, everything. I have no secrets. There is nothing, you can’t ask me. My dad always told me off for that. He said “You can’t always walk around being honest in this world Kelly!” And he’s right. I can’t. I know that because I’ve been let down so often. I’m the sort of person that will sit and watch for hours, before I actually begin to take part in things.

I’m one of those people who is careful about who I make friends with, because…I’m not ordinary. I don’t say that to be egotistical, I’m really very shy in person until I know you…but I’m shocking. People quite often, don’t know how to take me. And they’re shocked. It’s always been that way too, I don’t remember a time where I had more than a handful of friends. Because any more than that would overwhelm me. I’d get lost, I’d not know what to do with myself. But in being a picky friend chooser, I have managed to make some great choices. I’m still making those choices too. I have new friends who are just starting to come into my life. Who while I don’t call, or invite out yet, doesn’t mean I won’t. I will! I have every intention of it. I just don’t go out all that often, I certainly don’t entertain. I am the world’s worst hostess. I do plan on changing that though.

I totally got lost in that thought. What I really wanted to talk about, is how often we tell each other that we love one another. It’s definitely something women do for each other. And throughout history, we always have. Women fell into one another’s arms because they married for status, and money and not love…so their female friends became something other than just friends..they became confidents, sisters, mothers, lovers. I think, it’s something in us, that makes us want to let our girlfriends know how much they mean to us. Because we understand what it’s like, to be let down and hurt, and disappointed in love. And you need something, that is apart from that. Something you can put your faith in, your trust, and your heart and know that no matter what happens, you will always be there for one another. That’s what women do for each other. We bitch about each other, and we’re nasty and spiteful and we gossip about one another, but when it comes down to it, we would give the shirts off our backs for each other if you asked for it.

We count on each other. We support each other, we’re there through failures and miseries, and loss. And we share those burdens, and you can’t not love someone that you share your failures with. You can’t not love someone who will turn around and hold you, and listen, and not try to fix you. But just understand. We get each other. We are hideously emotional creatures. We’re needy and possessive and jealous. We just want to be understood. And so often, the only people who understand us, are our girlfriends. What’s not to love about them? They’re just like us. They love, and hate, and lose, and win, and fail and fall and rise and no one appreciates that, more than another woman.

Anyway…that’s my take on it.

Now playing: Leonard Cohen – Iodine
via FoxyTunes


I think, maybe I’ve had a red wine too many.

But those are the best sort of days, right? We just watched Twilight – yes, again! Shut up. I think my children are equally as enamoured as I am. Which is good.  Except, I keep feeling the urge to tell them, at random moments, that boys are really not like that.  “NO!” I say.  “They’re not like that.  Not at all. Okay?”  And they sort of groan and go “we have the picture mum.”  To which I reply “Do you see Charlie with his gun? Ya…that’s your dad.  WITH KARATE!  He doesn’t need a gun. Mkay?” And they go…”okay mum.”  And I feel tragic, and old, because did you know, Siobhan is going to college next year?

Calm down, Americans.  That’s high school for you. Although, I’m pretty sure they’re both smart enough for University already.  They should go.  I could go with them, it would be just like old times.  I never mentioned that before, did I?  That, during school holidays, I used to take my kids?  They’d take their own bags, filled with lunchie snack things and coloured pencils, and they would draw all through the classes, while we sat up the back, and I would raise my hand, tentatively…in the classes that were taught, by hot lecturers, and answer questions which made him smile, and in turn, made me smile…because you know, no one answers questions, right? And they stand there, panicking, waiting and waiting while no one dares to raise their hand.  I raised mine.  Just to see him smile.  I’d tell you his name, but I can’t.

Anyway! The point of that story was to tell you that, when we got home, the girls would be wonderfully inspired.  Even at the tender ages of things like, 4, 5, 6, 7 and possibly 8, younger than that Siobhan was a baby when I first had to take her, and they were older too because, yes, they came to one teachers college class. Only one. I never did that again. God, what an awful experience that was.  But University?  They’d come home with their pictures and they’d look up at me and they’d say, “When I grow up mummy? I want to go to University like you.”  And I felt extremely proud, and extremely grateful, for my life.  I have, one of the best lives imaginable.  Did you know that?  I really do. Sometimes I think I complain, because everyone complains don’t they? They think to themselves…”If only…” And I do that too. But the truth is, internet….I am blessed.

I have a husband who indulges my eccentricities.  Who allows me to be who and what I am, and never -really- judges me.  We have our moments, just like the rest of the world, of course, but I am currently 32 years old. I have two tweenie aged children – which really, no one of my age should have…and I have children, who constantly amaze me. Whose idea of fun, is to begin a story and then give it to me, so that I can write the next few lines, until the story is finished and we all sit around squeaking and laughing at how ridiculous we are.  Who have a white board, on the fridge, that is constantly used for “write the next word” stories.  And which, each member of my family diligently writes the next word, and continues the story.  I have children, who beg to bake, who offer to make desserts, who take out the rubbish, who love music, who sing and dance and enjoy theatre, and ballet, and Opera.

I am, internet, extremely blessed. I have the most beautiful family in the world.  And every single day, they make me proud.  Every single day, I look at them and I am amazed, and floored by the fact that, I helped create this.  That I am part of something wonderful and inspiring.  I can’t wait for them to go to college.  For them to become adults.  For this to be the house that they bring their friends back to. I can’t wait to watch them shut me out while I sit here, and be who I am, and they convene in our lounge, being who they are…talking about boys and movies, and music and just growing up.

There was a time, when I was totally afraid of this. When 9/11 happened on Siobhan’s birthday, I threw a party and it was wonderful…but the night before, or several nights…I forget now, we were riveted to the tv.  We were shocked and stunned and totally horrified by what was happening in the world.  I sat there and remembered when we went up those towers. I was 12 years old.  And now they’re not there.  And I worried, so desperately, about bringing my children into a world that so very possibly could be facing, another world war.  I was devastated. Horrified, totally and utterly terrified.  But we lived, and we grew and next year…my oldest daughter will be entering high school. I’m terrified, and totally ready for her to do it.  I’m so excited, and so horribly afraid…and do you know what?  She’s ready.  She knows, she may not get into the school she wants to go to.  Although I have done my fucking damnedest – besides forcing them into Christianity – to get her in.  I have letters from the Priest AND the Principal supporting her.

Anyway…I’ve had a wine too many, Ollie is out on conference, and has been since yesterday, and I’m thoughtful. I’m pleased. I’m grateful.  I’m happy.  I’m really content with where I am right now.  I wish I was earning money, and helping to financially support this growing family of mine.  But when it really comes down to it?  I’m happy.  And they’re happy.  And we may not be the best, or the richest, or the most fantastic family in the world, but we are fucking close to it.  I have my parents and Ollie’s parents to thank, for making us the people we are.  For being there when we needed them.  For everything.  Because, truly, without the trials, the successes and the sacrifices we have come through, we’d have never been the people we are.  I’m proud of us.

Thanks…to all of you who still read me.  Who are there for me, day after day, while I struggle to become the writer I know I am.  Each of you help to shape the person I’ve become.  Each of you make a difference in my life.  I appreciate you all, for everything you are, and everything you’re willing to share.

Kelly xxx

Brimful of Asha

Do I look like I know what that means?  I have no idea. I chose a random song from the many thousands that I have on iTunes and that, internet, was it.  It’s pretty rockin’ actually. I shall have to add it to the feel good playlist *does so*. It’s on Fatboy Slim’s Greatest Hits – if you’re curious. Which you should be, because you all know that I have awesome taste. It’s true! Also, according to this song, everybody needs a bosom for a pillow. Now you really want it, don’t lie!

I went out last night. Shock HORROR!  I know! We had a girl’s night out, and we went to The Loons in Lyttleton – which is another city! Well, I’m not sure you could call Lyttleton a city, it is however, a really precious town that I love and is on the opposite side of the mountain which separates it from Christchurch. You have to drive through an insanely long tunnel to get there.  Did any of you ever watch The Frighteners?  It’s a Peter Jackson film, it’s really old now and had you know..the guy from Family Ties in it.  And Back to the Future. Oh alright, I’m googling!  Michael J Fox!  Actually, it came to me as soon as I decided to google.  Anyway, the point is, Lyttleton was where some of the film was set.  It’s so luscious.  We went to watch the Belly Dance show there, and I was blown away. I really was.

It was by far one of the best shows I’ve seen in a long time.  It was totally inspiring and delicious. Some of my favourite dancers performed, some new dancers I’d never seen and a guest dancer who blew my mind and almost made me weep.  She was gorgeous and stunning and I would have watched her perform for the entire night if I could have.  They did a fabulous job, it was great from start to finish, and I had a really great time.  You know what’s weird though?  I can’t dance.  It’s really strange, I used to be such a fantastic dancer, I’d dance until my feet were sore, and then I’d dance some more.  You know, right until the clubs closed and they kicked us out at 3am.  But now, random nightclub dancing and me?  We’re not friends.  I have no idea what I’m doing and my body goes “uh, hello? This sort of dance was beaten out of you when you decided to become a BELLY DANCER!”  I’m completely un-co.  It’s embarrassing!

Anyway, the show was awesome, and I loved that our girls night included the most delicious dancer IN THE WORLD who also happens to be a boy, and gloriously gay.  You should have seen his dance!  He’s fabulous.  And conversations with him rock my world.  He always has something to contribute.  No matter what topic you discuss, he’s right there with you and I love him for it.  As always, he brought the house down. He is one of the most amazing belly dancers ever.  He has serious talent, and I am green with the dancer envy.  As does one of the other women with us’ daughter.  Lord that girl can dance.  She did a piece to The Noose by A Perfect Circle?  And I may have almost wept at it’s beauty.  Stunning.  Truly.  I am awed and inspired and must start dancing every second of the day now.  Are you believing me?  It will be just like my writing!  *Kelly, procrastinates until the very last moment, but has absolutely the best intentions ever!*

I got home to find the house rocking.  It really was.  I fought my way past the heavy curtains and my eardrums exploded with the sound of massive gunfire.  It’s double points weekend for COD on xbox!  Oliver had been blissfully killing people all weekend.  ALL WEEKEND!  He’d put the kids to bed and turned the television up loud enough to bring World War II to our living room.  He didn’t even hear me come in.  I could have been the P Jesus who is apparently stalking the city and killing people!  Actually, we were pretty sure he was sitting behind us in the Loons, looking rather, P Jesus like and leering at us over the top of his beer.  I could have fired my own gun and killed my husband without him even knowing.  I can see it now, Oliver turning around and aiming the red xbox controller in a frenzy wondering why he will.not.die.  Oh true, not a real gun.  P Jesus WIN!  Oliver..LOSE.

It’s been hideously cold today. And last night actually. We’ve had the fire going all day.  I don’t like the change of seasons. It always feels like we haven’t had enough summer.  Summer gets shorter and shorter every year.  Apparently, just like me.

Wash Me Clean

I am ignoring my blog lately. I know it, you know it, we all know it. So what’s the deal?  I’m lazy. And I have to resize the photos to fit them prettily into my blog. And whenever I open photoshop to do that, I get distracting making pretty things instead. So, blogging about Australia will still happen, just not as fast as I’d like it too.

Today, instead, I thought I’d talk to you about..well, nothing much actually. There’s all this stuff going on around me, and I’m not entirely sure how to deal with it. So I’ve retreated. I spent the weekend having picnics in the hills and reading, and writing a lot of amazing storylines with some of the most amazingly talented people I could have ever hoped to have met. Thank you, you guys.  4srs. You don’t know what an amazing distraction you are. You fill me with a sense of personal pride, and hope.  If I can do it for you, I can do it for the rest of the world right?

I’m going to get started on my nablowrimo story again. I’m going to make it wonderful.  I’m going to finish it, and I’m going to do something with it. It’s my first attempt, it’s also, a very, -very- personal story. Mostly because a lot of the feelings of my own teenage years went into creating the character.

I’m reading a lot at the moment.  Twilight mostly. Those books are an amazingly addictive read, aren’t they? Have you read them? You haven’t? You should.  Particularly, if – like me – you dig vampires, and teenage angst.  They’re delicious. They really are. They’re written perfectly for their target audience and the angst, the uncomfortableness of being the new kid, the fitting in with crowds and not really fitting in at all.  It’s beautiful. I love them.  Team Edward, all the way.  Don’t fret Jacob – you are beautiful too. And ohmygod could they have picked anyone better for him in the film? I think not. Still, RobP?  You really are quite the perfect Edward.  Shutup, all of you. I do not care.  He is most certainly my Edward.  Frighteningly, he is also TEN YEARS YOUNGER THAN ME. I am turning into one of those debauched old ladies who fangirls young boys and asks them to sign their Team Jacob g-strings WHILE THEY’RE WEARING THEM!!!!  Can you believe someone would do that?  Dear lord. If I ever turn into that woman, please, take me out back and shoot me like the used up racehorse I’ve become.

Anyway, I finished the series. I should probably write lots about it, from an old lady perspective, because that would get me readers, right?  Maybe I’ll do that.  I let the girls read the first book.  They are fangirling too.  I want to take them to the film, but it is M15. Do you think they’ll let me, considering I’m their mother?  It feels like I’m trying to sneak my underage children into a seedy nightclub or something. Maybe I’ll try that next week. Just to see. No really, I still get nervous buying wine from the supermarket.  I’m always worried the old ladies are going to go “ID please!” And I won’t be able to find it.  When really, I should be more concerned about them refusing to sell it to me before 5pm like they do with the poor old alcoholics I see regularly who are all “oh come on love…” and are told by children “I’m sorry. But you know you’re not allowed to come in here and buy alcohol before 5pm.”  Because we all know I am turning into a shifty old woman who shouldn’t be allowed to buy wine from the supermarket. No matter how much I would like to claim to be the underage kid with a need to get drunk on Chardon up the Church Hill on a Friday night. Right?

How easily distracted I am!  I was going to tell you about Janet Frame.  I love her, you know. If I could be her, I would. I’m reading “A State of Siege” right now, and it is so beautifully written.  What an amazing talent she had. I loved her since “Owls Do Cry.”  She wrote the most amazingly descriptive stories.  She brought to life the New Zealand I know, and I am captivated every single time I open the book.  This one, is at the moment anyway, less maudlin than the previous works of hers I’ve read. But it is deeply moving. It’s poetic. It’s lyrical.  It’s absolutely stunning.  You should read her, if you get the opportunity.  She’s not easy – she’s very academic, very University Literature.  But it’s powerful, and deep and represents a New Zealand that has transcended the 1960’s when she was writing and still fits today’s world.  Mostly, because, I don’t think New Zealand will ever truly change who it is.  It will always be “that country”.  That distant relative of England that never quite made it out of obscurity.

I love it, for it’s obscurity. It’s eccentricity.  It’s lack of conforming to the rest of the world’s ideas of anything at all really.  We are your strange old Aunty, the one who wears her hair long and wild and cares more about her cats, than anything else. The one who never married, and would rather eat beetroot and drink gin and take Arts papers than get a real job, or a real life, or a husband, or have children, and whom, despite your best efforts, and your obvious embarrassment when she kisses you and smears her bright red lipstick on your cheek and makes a scene at the family gatherings, you cannot help but love.  You can’t help but miss her when she’s gone and you sit back and you go “Remember when Aunty used to laugh too loud and talk about her knickers when we had our boyfriends come over?  I really miss her.”

Anyway. Janet Frame makes me nostalgic.  She makes me remember the things that are important to remember, and to let go of all the rest.  She will always be, my hero. Not just because she was a literary genius, but because she was, quite simply Genius.

Spoiled Princess.

That’s me!  Did you know?  I really am. I’m very, very spoiled.

We went to Nelson for the weekend, Friday was Canterbury day, and we thought we’d take Monday off too, so that we could spend three days there and not have to worry about hurrying back for work.  It was beautiful, the trip up was stunning, we arrived at midnight on Thursday and stayed up talking until 1.30am.  My parents are still pretty spritely for an old couple! Dad had pillaged some clothing from a woman who was going to sell them at the Flea Market, and I tell you what internet, my father has taste. He really does. I ended up with a pile of new shirts all of which I LOVE and three dresses.  THREE!  And they all fit.  Okay, so a couple of items are a little on the tight side, but that’s completely my fault, I have after all, put on a little weight in the last few weeks, which I am seriously planning on shedding again, starting now.  No, really.

On Friday, Mum took me shopping, and bought me a pair of shoes, but it was buy one pair, get one half price, so I bought a pair, and she paid for the second pair at half price, they are so awesome!  And then she bought me knickers, because, you can never have too many pairs of knickers, it’s true! And then we spent the day with my sister in law and her daughter, who is the sweetest thing ever, blonde and mostly blue eyed, one is at least, the other is sort of, mossy green, it’s stunning, and she is at the age now where she is talking a lot more, I got loads of conversation out of her, it was lovely.  Late in the afternoon, Ollie and I went to the beach for a walk.  It would have been romantic if I had my husband beside me, but mostly, he was behind me, taking a million and one photos, some of which, are quite lovely.  Dad bought wine and Indian food, and we ate too much, and I only had two glasses of wine…I know! I’m proud of me too, and then we watched movies.

Saturday Ollie and I wandered around the Cathedral, which, used to be my home away from home when I was a teenager, it’s strange to go back there as an adult. I still have all those memories, and some of them aren’t as happy as I’d like.  Walking around there with my own children is definitely an experience.  We went inside the Church which was fun, and then took off to the Japanese Gardens.  It was beautiful, and yes, you can be sure that there are loads of photos.  We had to pose in all sorts of mad places and positions.  Ollie is connected to his camera, it is like another appendage.  He was shouted at (by me) at least once during the trip for inanely pointing it in my general direction one too many times.

On Sunday we ventured out to the Queen’s Gardens, where there is also a small Chinese Garden and yessss, you know it, more and more photos.  It was stunning though, we spent a good hour walking around before we went back out to the beach again.  The moon – did you see it?  God, it was stunning, on Thursday while we were driving it was big and round and yellow, anyway, it had pulled the tide in so much that there was no beach to walk along. So we sat and ate McDonalds (I know..I swear I’m working it off) and let the dog out, and watched the waves crashing up against the bank where the beach is supposed to be.  The more I go back to Nelson, the more I miss it when I come home again.  I would love to live there again.  It’s just so intensely beautiful. I never really thought about it that much when I was growing up.  I completely took it for granted, but now when I go back, I don’t want to come back to Christchurch.

Not that it isn’t pretty here too, it’s just that Nelson has such a great feeling about it.  It’s a holiday place, we go there to relax, and I think that’s the attraction. Everything is right at your fingertips, you don’t have to drive far to get to the beach, or the rivers, or the hills, and we don’t work there.  Ollie always tells me he could never move there and work.  Maybe we’ll retire there one day, I’d move back in a heartbeat if I thought we could get jobs.  The pace of living, is still small town, and I miss that a lot.  Christchurch is a city, everyone is in a hurry, and if they’re not, I am, and they’re just annoying.

Monday, that’s today.  I turned 32. It’s a good number, I’m still enjoying my thirties, yes, I know I’ve only just entered them, but 31 was a good year, and I think 32 will be better still.  We went to my brother’s for lunch, which we ended up late for, and I felt awful.  They’d put on a really great lunch, and we’d spent too long showing photos to mum, and then went to the supermarket to get some bread and drink to take up. By the time we got there, they’d eaten and my sister in law was getting ready to take my niece to kindergarten. I did get a very sloppy kiss out of her, and we scored strawberry plants and gorgeous heads of broccoli off my brother.  And we left around 1.30pm.  He turns 38 tomorrow!  Thirty Eight!  You know what that means right?  Yeah, he’s getting his post too. Though, like everyones, it will probably be late. Anyway..we headed off in the rain and made pretty good time. I drove for the last hour and only had about 4 panic attacks, which is pretty good, considering.

Also, I didn’t hit anything!  Not even a bird!  I know!  And yes, I was very much ridiculed and laughed at by everyone for the damage I did to the car.  I knooowww.  We got home at 7pm after stopping for takeaway and I came online to find way more spoilage.  It was so wonderfully touching to find such thoughtful pieces of people’s artwork and their well wishes that, okay maybe I might have got a little misty eyed, alright? I admit it.

You guys rock my world. Thank you so much for being my friends, and being so generous and thoughtful.
<3 times affinity!!!

Oh, but that’s not everything, no no! Dad came out of his room on Friday with a paper bag, “Here’s your birthday present!”  he said, and I am all “oh! But it’s not my birthday yet! Too late! I have it now!”  And I opened it and was seriously, blown away.

He had given me  a book, and books, are the best things anyone can ever give me.  This book, is a book of poetry. I am very particular about poetry.  I know who and what I like, and that list is very short.  Some of you may remember when I was doing my final teaching section in Nelson last year, Dad took me to one of his poetry readings.  He was amazing, I should share with you his poetry too, it blows me away, and there was another woman there too, Panni Palasti who completely stunned me with her work.  I was so impressed, and so touched that I teared up while she was reading and, completely unlike me (I know I seem utterly confident and self assured on here, but in person I am shy, particularly with people I feel awed by) I went up to her afterwards and told her how beautiful her work was.  She gave me one of her poems that night, the one that touched me the most.  Several months later, she googled herself and came up with my site. She contacted me and asked me to write a review of her poems, which I was completely gobsmacked by and of course, I did.  My review is on the back cover of her book and dad had her autograph it for me also.  It was so wonderfully touching that I really had no words. Thanks Panni, you’re amazing, and you’re in my heart too.  I am so honoured to be featured on your book, you have what I consider an extremely rare talent.  You bring words to life in a genre that not many people can truly master. Your gift for words humbles me.

Good god!

You know, the worst thing happened to me the other day.  It was so awful, it’s taken me a full day to get to the point where I think I can write about it and not feel too heinous.  That’s not true, I still feel heinous, in that amused sort of “wtf?” kind of way, because really, it is strangely amusing.

I went shopping yesterday after work with a girl I used to work with in my photography job.  She contacts me when she leaves jobs asking me if she can use me as a reference you see.  She’s 19 years old, part Malaysian and good god is she beautiful.  Like stunningly ridiculously beautiful.  She’s tragically dim.  I said to her via txt message “Starbucks in the Square!”  I even plastered it all over her facebook.  “Yep, yep! C U thar lol” she’d reply, because..she is 19 and that’s how they write..always.

She went to the wrong Starbucks, like I knew she would.  So hilarious.  She goes “Oh my god Kelly!  I am like, SO blonde!”  And I reply “You are dear, you really are.  How did that happen when you have such dark hair?”  She is full of fun and sarcasm and I adore her. I can’t help myself.  She is just so ridiculous and amusing.  Anyway, we went to the mall, because I need new black pants that fit and don’t fall off my arse every time I move…yes, loosing weight is great, but then you have to get a new wardrobe which makes your husband go into dramatic fits of agony over the money that will be spent.  Nevermind the fact that there will be joy and eyeballing of the behind in pants that actually show I have a bum, and don’t make me look like Eminem.

Also, don’t 19 year olds with no children – I add that in for my own sake, considering I was 19 with child..although, to be fair, I still had rocking taste – know where all the good shops are?  Of course they do! She showed me shops I’d NEVER gone into before.  “Wait…this shop is way too expensive”  I’d gasp and she’d go “is it?  Let’s just look.”  So I’d go in with her and hover at the front of the shop looking at things and she would cross her arms over her chest and say “You see Kelly, THIS is why you think they’re expensive.  The sales racks are down.the.back?”  Use of inflection to remind me how old and crunchy I am, along with eye rolling and much head shaking.

She was right!  Of course, everything in my size was gone.  “It’s a really popular size” she’d sympathise with me, and I would search the sales racks finding only large sizes which all the larger ladies don’t realise exist in these shops because they are TOO AFRAID TO ENTER THEM!!!  Anyway, we went into this shop, and the lady serving me was probably my height, a little stockier, and hmm…40ish?  I say “Can I try these on?” And she goes “sure!”  then she looks at them and looks at me and says “are you looking for straight leg loose, or something that shapes your bum?”  And I am a little horrified by this, because normally these women in these sort of shops are too good to talk to I say “I um…uh…well…something that shapes my bum?”  and she hands me a pair of pants in a size too large, because they don’t have my size..obviously..popular, you know..and do you know what internet?  I put them on, they were too big, but they shaped my bum and get this….they were only about 2 inches too long! OMG!

Okay, so lots of you won’t get my excitement about see, I am 5’2 on a good day..and Oliver likes to inform me that I am shrinking.  I’d agree if I didn’t know that his posture is just 100% better now that he’s been doing karate for like his whole freaking life and finally walks straight!  And, pants NEVER fit me, I hate, hate, hate shopping for pants.  It is the one thing I truly struggle with.  But these, god were they glorious!  And instead of being 6 inches too long, only 2!  2 I tell you!

So, I’m marvelling at my bum, and lamenting the fact I can fit my hand sideways into the waist when the shop assistant comes back and says to my 19 year old friend who is patiently waiting for me to show her how the pants look on…she says…”How’s your mum doing?”


Did you hear that?  “How is your MUM doing?!”

Now..I’m standing there, thinking..”did I just hear that?”  And my friend is all “huh?” because, she lives in her own world, which is partly why I love her so much..she’s never quite -there- if you know what I mean..and I come out and explain they’re too big in the waist, but that the other pair are too small in the waist and she offers to order me some in, and when she walks away I say “Did she just call me your MOTHER?”  and Miss 19 goes “OMG! I thought I misheard her!!”

I mean, I know that 19 year olds don’t often hang out with 31 year olds…but really?  MOTHER?  Not even…sister, but MOTHER?!?!!!  I just had my hair done!  I’m not even sporting any greys!!!  Good god.  From a distance, you can’t even see my crinkly eyes or my smile lines..horrifying!  We laugh a bit, but you know, I am understandably horrified and she goes “Hey remember that time our other workmate asked if Ollie was your husband or your son?”  And I go “You see?  THIS is why I’ve missed you. NOT!”  And she laughs and informs me soon I will need a zimmer frame and that she will now always refer to me as “mum”.

Please, please, pleeeease boost my dying ego internet.  Do I really look old enough to have a 19 year old child? I mean really??  She does look young, as all Asians do, but I would say no younger than 17..which still would have made me 14.  Oh, I’m so woe!  Look at me and be honest – but only if your honesty is really nice and doesn’t agree that I look like a 40 year old freaking housewife!!!

That’s my straightened hair, not this last time, but the time before, and because I am vain, (hence my angst at that awful woman’s assumption, really internet?  Really?? That old?) I must show you it from the back, it’s so long and gorgeous! It’s longer now!  When I had it done last week it was so way longer. Also, it’s crinkled because I slept on it – as you do.

Blue Are The Words I Say And What I Think

I have lyrics for all occassions.  Doubt me I dare you.  Go on!  No seriously, think of something and I’ll give you a song.  Oh, you’re ON!

Anyway, this post is for you Lori Blue. You know that I always love it when you come online to talk to me. I especially love it when you come online and it’s midnight for you, and you plan on saying “HUGS!” before bed and two and a half hours later, you finally tear yourself away from me.  Do you know how wonderful that makes me feel?  That I have such a great hold on you? I do, it’s firm and grabby, and once I start to cling, I am like a little limpet, I just don’t know how to let go.

There’s a lot I could say about Lori, because she’s one of those people that you just can’t help but love. She’s quite extraordinary, she makes some amazing graphics, she makes some amazing resources, and she shares them freely with pretty much the entire internet.  But that’s not even almost all of what she does, people tell her how great she is for doing this all the time.  You know you are Lori, we adore you.  But that’s not what I want to talk about.  I want to make sure that you know how much it means to me when you tell me how much you love to read my words.

I want to tell you that make me smile so wide my face hurts. I still can’t believe you’re comparing me to a favourite author – I swear, I’m almost through my last pile of books, she’s on my ‘to read next’ list! I love that you have such faith in the fact that one day I will be published, and that I’m fairly certain you’re actually more excited about that fact than I think I am, it makes me want to squish you to bits.

Thanks for being one of my biggest fans.  I don’t know exactly how to tell you what it means to me to know that there are people out there who are not just reading my blog, but really enjoying what I have to say as well.  It makes me squiffy! I love that my boring life is so interesting. No really, it is boring. It’s kind of exciting to know that something this boring can interest people.  Maybe I’m doing something right after all! Thank you for always having an ear and a story to share.  Thanks for the advice and the commiseration and the understanding and the similiarities in experiences.  Thank you Lori, for being so open, and so honest with me.

You’re amazing, and I’m glad we made friends, because do you know what?  Back when you designed on that other board, I really wanted to be the extremely cool Miss Blue’s friend. That first av you ever made me?  Still one of my all time favourites.  Thanks for thinking I’m cool too.

I love you.


I don’t know what it is, but for some reason, I forgot my limit for alcohol last night and I got drunk with Rachel which was so!much fun.  I can’t tell you what fun we had..yes online together alright? was hilarious, until this morning, when I got out of bed and my head said “uhh, what are you doing?”  so I drank water and had breakfast and felt seedy and sent the girls off to school.

It’s walk day today, and we’ve decided to go earlier, because we spend an hour already and we want to walk further.  Well, I had to ring and tell her I was running late and could we meet at 10am instead of 9.30am.  She was fine this..and then I thought about the fact that I’m getting my braces tightened tomorrow and that I must remember my cell phone just in case they call to confirm the appointment.  It was 9.45am by this I pull out my diary and…yes, you guessed it internet, the appointment was for TODAY!  At 9am.  OMG!  So I ring them up and I say “I think I missed my appointment”  and the girl says “oh yes, you did.  Well, the next time we can fit you in is April the 7th.”  !!!!!!

This is not good.  I go in tomorrow anyway to see a nurse who will put the wire back through the back brace, because it always falls out..but no tightening for another 5 or so weeks!  Why do they have to make me go in so early? Don’t they realise that I’m not a morning person?  I could have cried when she said “the only times we have are 8.30am, 8.45am or 9am.”  Yes, you guessed it, I chose the 9am…ugh.

So, now I have 10 minutes to get into town and I still haven’t written my grocery list.  Suffice to say, I was late, but we had a really good walk, even though I almost died and it was seriously hot.  I’m glad we didn’t go later.  We walked about 6km today and I’m very proud of in particularly considering how seedy I feel.  When we left, I realised that Ollie hadn’t taken his bike rack off the car, which means I’d have to fight the groceries into the back (we have a 2 door hatchback) and I was so tired, and my head was going “what have I told you about drinking beer Kelly?  Vodka chasers after your third beer is not clever.”  So I gave up and went home and had a cool shower and some headache pills.

I crawled onto my bed going “seedy, seedy…uuuggghhhh..bad bad bad..”  and curled up with a book.  I managed one chapter, just…and then I slept for a bit..I got up at 1.30pm and I’ve just finished a very strong, very sweet coffee and some pizza and I am regaining my sense of humanity again.  Thank GOD.   These things are not clever.  They might be fun at the time, but they are so not clever in the slightest.

So fun though. hehe