The Aeroplane Flies High

So, going to be getting on a torturous economy class trawl over to the UK soon. Suffice to say, I cant wait to sit in the same cramped little space for MANY hours.

Also, if I'm very lucky I wont be driven immediately insane by any inane yank-chatter - which I am also dreading. If this happens I might actually keep myself together enough to enjoy the DVT that I will have worked so long and hard for. Glee.

Perhaps I should have gone out last night and tried to burgle some waste fat from a liposuction clinic (Fight club styles). Could have had that crap injected into my buttocks, or something. I guess a simpler solution would be a cushion, but thats far less dramatic. Plus, I get the sense that half the point of a blog is to make as many wanky references to shit as possible - and I cant think of any involving cushions.

In other news - it seems that some of you other blogging peoples have found me. I am foiled! (ahem) uuh, I mean... nothing.

Gah, I have a sore throat, and no amount of Vodka seems to be able to shift it.

Foreign Soil - Step 1 (Sydney)

So, things have come to fruition, and I have managed to drag myself as far as Sydney - where I'm just beginning a 4 night stint of the old couch-sleeping routine.

Many thanks to the very Mr Wildebeest Esq. himself; for the pleasure. This post is a quick one while I ninja the lappy of a flatmate here.

The flight - went ok. Had some chicken fillety thingy, which wasn't too bad. Managed to rustle up a couple of vodkas along the way too, which was kind step one in the general blood-thinning of the evening.

Had annoying french kids behind me (with the kicking and the squealing, etc). I guess it did occupy me for a few minutes while I tried to mentally parse out a sentance along the lines of "piss off you annoying little shite". Having probably fewer than a dozen french words to work with, however, did not make that easy.

I didn't bother listening to the movie and instead tuned into my iPod the whole way. It looked like it was some pretty drippy movie about some dance teacher giving lessons to unruly kids at a local high school. Typical 'awesome teacher comes in and turns all these kids lives around and whatnot. The best part of the movie was the big climactic dance scene which, for me, was done to the soundtrack of such ballroom classics as 'Wet Rubber', 'Comfortably Shagged' and 'Hot Sexy Lusty'. Head Like a Hole (HLAH) - a must have for any half decent sappy movie about dancing.

Lastly; there was, of course, drinking to be had last night. Few vodkas and a trip to some place for a regular piece known as 'Rock and Roll Motherfucker'. Apparently we struck a bit of a dud night in terms of music selection, and I guess 'Hipster pop with the ocassional foray into 80's schlock, motherfucker' may have been a little more appropriate. Still, there was a decent bit of 'this' (please note that the witness makes the 'drinky drinky' motion) and I'm not sure how one can go wrong with a night involving some of that.

My mouth tastes like sunday morning, yet - its only Friday!

Things Coming Together (Halo One)

Gah. Terrible NIN reference there (but I couldn't help it).

Still, whilst being a poor attempt at humour, the subject is at least vaguely informative. Things, it seems, are coming together. The list that I hurredly scrawled at some point is beginning to look mostly 'crossed-off'. Of course, this still doesn't change the fact that my room continues to be nothing less than hazardous to make one's way through. Plus: my curtain broke and is permanently down now, so I get to wallow in dinginess as well.

Well I was originally using that phrase with regard to OE preperation, it also kinda relates to the presentation of the ol' blog, here. It has progressed somewhat since I started with it (when it was pretty super plain and dull). Currently its just somewhat plain and dull, but I'm getting there. Its 'coming together', as it were.

My HTML and CSS (cue nerdy 'ngeh ngeh' noises - for the general populous) ability is about as equally sharp and incisive as the atmosphere at your general retirement village, but I'm doing my best. It doesn't help that everyone else has already stolen all the colors - you greedy bastards! (see other blogs I linked up there). This even includes pink (you know who you are). There isn't a chance in hell I would ever use pink, but you get the idea.

Think I can salvage something credible out of an unlikely combination of silver (yeah, apparently) and red...?

Who knows.

Well, people with some sense of taste and colour-matching ability, I guess.

Piling up crap and wrestling with my iPod

So, that last post wasn't too bad for a first effort. I only had to edit it about five times.

The joys of drinking (I failed to mention that I actually came home and wrote that at about 5am after being in town).

So yeah, still haven't left yet, but am slowly getting 'organised'. This evening I managed to 'organise' a bunch of stuff into little piles all over my room. That's why I'm still up at 3:00am: my bed is still buried. I've even decided to keep moving CDs over to my iPod, which should help heaps.

While I'm glad to have upgraded from my minidisc player to an iPod, what I'm not so stoked about is how long it is taking to put everything on to it. Granted, I could just pull across the music that's on my PC, but I tried that and a whole bunch of it isn't labelled or anything. Foreign places will be stressful enough without having to deal with some bizarre pot-luck music situation. Imagine: I might end up listening to Fantomas; 'The Directors Cut' instead of, say Fantomas; 'Suspended Animation'. You see what I mean?

In going through my CD collection I've had a few decent 'now why the hell did I buy that?!' moments. In fact, about half of my CD tower has been organised into a 'meh, could make do without' pile. I know people always talk about how your taste change, but I'm still thinking we-eel, has it really changed that much?

I dont want to think about getting old, and I think that's where this is heading.

A Bucking of Tradition?

So, it seems that other people that I know have involved themselves with the whole 'I'm going away, and because I'm too lazy to constantly write emails, I'm going to start a blog and you buggers can read that instead'.

Sounds great to me, so I'm in on the whole deal. The 'bucking of tradition' is, I guess, that I've decided to begin before leaving the country (This may or may not be what other people do. I dont know, it was a catchy title).

Anyways. Its the 15th (well, it was at the beginning of the evening) and I leave on the 27th. Some organising yet to do, but more importantly: Merriment! (most likely involving drinking). So, boozing was to be had on this very eve, and a big squidgy thanks to people who invested their time in coming to see me in my native habitat. Great to catch up with people before I go.

Anyway, after a lovely evening of chatting and boozing and whatnot, I capped the night off with some thrashing around at our favourite loud music establishment (by favourite, I mean - only). Never had much problem there before, but I thought that this particular interchange with some random on the way to the john was worthy of posting:

Me: "Bro'" (nods head to some guy just coming out of the toilets)

Random skinhead guy: (stops...) "I'm not a bro..."

(rolls up his sleeve and points at his wrist) "See... I'm white..." (bizarre kind of 'anti-grin')

Me: "Ah..."
(the portion of my brain in charge of intelligent response has buckled under the weight of an evenings boozing.)

(guy walks off)

Hmm. I spend the rest of the evening kind of hoping to not run into said character again; especially not for an in-depth discussion on the intricacies of race-relations in NZ.

You can expect more of this crap (maybe). Rejoice!