Cured!

You know how when you have a cold, and one day you wake up and you can breathe through your nose again? Damn, it feels good to be a criminal. All it required was some caustic soda and I'm back on track of sanity. I'm free!

Oh, mother dear, we sadly fear our mittens we have lost. What! Lost your mittens, You naughty kittens! Then you shall have no pie.

Ah euphemisms and metaphors, my dear friends, how you confuse all around me.

The weather suits my mood today, it's nice and cosy in my bed. The only problem with typing a blog from the bed is that you actually have to sit up otherwise you keep writing things like "banana" instead of "apple". Well, not really, but you know what I mean.

I got another package from Germany last night. More clothes I'll never wear, some CDs I forgot I had, my drawing books, and even a soft cuddly toy I got given. I was surprised at the latter, but come to think of it, he probably forgot the sentimental value it had and just threw it in with the rest of junk while cleaning out the apartment.

Now I'm just waiting on stuff from Amazon.com and some stuff I bought on TV. Waiting is so OCD. I should really get some more bricks.

I had a really nice curry at Daawat last night. Not one I've had before. Something sabzi. It was very disgustingly green. Vegetables (capsicum, broccoli, tomato) in a spinach creamy sauce. It was very delicious. I felt like a rightful piggie. Oink oink.

Did I mention how pretty Norah Jones was? She was quite funny too, telling us stories of her Sesame St performance, but I can't really repeat it - you had to be there.

Think I'm gonna go back to bed now and watch the rain fall.

Norah Jones concert was good.

Oh my, is she ever so pretty. And so humble. She speaks softly, sings strongly, and I am smitten. Gotta say, live concerts are full of awesome experiences.

Come away with me in the night
Come away with me
And I will write you a song

Come away with me on a bus
Come away with me where they can't tempt us
With their lies

I want to walk with you
On a cloudy day
In fields where the yellow grass grows
knee kigh
So won't you try to come

Come away with me and we'll kiss
On a mountain top
Come away with me
And I'll never stop loving you

And I want to wake up with the rain
Falling on a tin roof
While I'm safe there in your arms
So all I ask is for you
To come away with me in the night
Come away with me

Insane in the brain

My name is Lana, I am 25, I enjoy reading, and I suffer from chronic crush syndrome.

That is, I get little crushes on just everyone I meet. "Oh he looked at me with a smile, I must get him to fall in love with me", "Oh my, she really looks hot in that top, I wonder if I could kiss her", "oh dear, that man offered me a lift, I must seduce him".
And it's not like I would follow through with it or anything, most of the time I show no outward symptoms even, just it dominates my thinking space for about two days and then I'm over it.

It's very much like a case of common cold, thrush, or mondayitis. It's there, it's annoying, then it's gone, and you don't even remember having had it.

Ridicilous, I know. I urgently require a frontal lobotomy. I hear an ice pick above the eye ball can do the job.

I finally have forced myself to finish off the lab report that is due on April Fools. One more responsibility removed from the shadow hanging over my holidays. Now I can lie in bed and do nothing all day and not feel guilty.

My god! Do you know how painful it is to do nothing all day? I have no idea how people manage it day in, day out. But then again, it's half past three in the afternoon and I still haven't got out of bed. So I guess I am not doing too badly.

I am going to the Norah Jones concert tonight. Geoff gave me a ticket for my birthday, remember?

I have only been to one other music performance before and it was Faithless in Auckland.

Of course, I've been to plenty of ballets and philarmonic orchestra concerts in my time (thanks Grandma!), but that's not exactly the same. A live singing performance has the possibility to disappoint. I hope it's good though.

Still trying to buy a scooter on trademe, and to sell my angel dvds. No luck so far, but who knows, the universe undulates in strange patterns. Time will tell. Unless I do get this frontal lobotomy, in which case time will stop being a significant concept.

Mmmmm Braaaaainnnnsssss...

This post had no title (How naughty!)

Stereomatic

It took me four hours to fix id3 tags on my meagre mp3 collection. This was compounded by the facts that my laptop had been taken away and I had to do this on my PC which only has the slow USB port, not to mention I couldn't figure out how to transfer the mp3s to the iPod for the first hour or so, and finally, I realised I had set the wrong id3 tags on half of them and I had to start it all again.

That is one very long sentense, and trust me, I have no desire to go back and fix the grammar!
To cut the long sentence short, I got all my mp3s onto the iPod and am listening to them as I blog.

Have you ever noticed that when you listen to sounds with the headphones, it feels like the voice is coming from inside your head?? Gives the phrase "hearing voices" a whole new meaning.
I like the Kill Bill soundtracks. The mix of Japanese songs, classical composers and oldies but goodies is astounishing.

Finally finished watching Stargate SG-1 season 8. Pretty awesome show really - Space McGyver gets funnier and funnier with every episode.

The four final episodes of the season were my postprandial entertainment after I made a semi-large effort to cook the Sunday Brunch. Scrambled eggs, avocado, port cheddar, spinach, salmon spread on bread, a cup of coffee, Sunday Star Times. It's become a sort of tradition with me - Sunday is the day of rest. And I don't need any dogma to tell me that. Just the other day on Breakfast, they had some guest speakers proclaiming that our world has been speeding up too much, that people ought to slow down and take in the life. Sundays are just for that. Later on tonight I plan to cook pasta with a flavour of sauce I haven't tried before, and sip on white wine.

In Maori, when people want to say "How's the weather today?", they say "How does the earth feel today?". The word beautiful has many more meanings that at first perceived. In the Vampire the Masquerade rules, there are Toreador. It's a clan of vampires (bear with me here) that "get off" on all things aesthetic. They love things that look good, taste good, feel good. To the point that they can enter a torpor if filled with too much beauty.
"Toreador are alternately elegant and flamboyant, brilliant and ludicrous, visionary and dissipated. Perhaps the only truism that can be applied to the clan is its members' aesthetic zeal. Whatever a Toreador does, she does with passion. Whatever a Toreador is, she is with passion."

By the way, that Maori tidbit I learned from Emilie Le Strange article in Salient. She's a brilliant writer - funny, articulate, eloquent. Pity I can't link to any of her latest work because Salient haven't updated their web publications this year.

Air is a good background soundtrack to writing.
That stat counter I installed on my blog was a bad idea - the attention whore within me was devastated: only four people read my blog.

On the upside, I can rant on about whatever the hell I want and not have to suffer the repercussions of QuadLaser. I like writing. I like it for two reasons and two reasons only - firstly, I like the movement of my fingers on the keyboard - the constant fluid motion that translates into something legible; secondly, I enjoy words - words that are big, words that are descriptive, words that can paint a picture, a thought. Spot my Dictionary Word of the Day in this blog and win a minute of satisfaction.

On the other hand, the attention that a blog may bring is nice too, although, obviously in my case is non-existant.

I am trying to learn how to play Fur Elise on the piano. So far I can play the right hand part fairly ok, but cannot quite combine it with the left hand part. I figure if I can type 60 words a minute, I should be able to manage the piano. Just gotta practice. The problem here is that when you practice the piano, the whole surrounding area of Timbaktu can hear your failures.

Something else to work on.

Delicious apples

In all my infinite wisdom, I went and bought an iPod today. Really, it's all our lecturer's fault - he didn't show up, leaving me with a three hour break till my lab. The only reasonable resolution was to go shopping!

Amanda and I went down to town, oggled over the cheap iPods at Dick Smiths, made the shop assistant run around a little, and decided to leave. Then we went to Glassons and I bought this jacket/top that would just absolutely look awesome with white headphone wires, so.... I went back and got the iPod! Then I went and bought another warm top at Portmans, so overall not a bad day.

The spectrometry lab was extra fun - with IR spectra to analyze, I feel like a real lab technician now, I could even work at CSI NY. (That's the plan anyhu: A job at New York, mini cooper, and a summer villa on the beach of Naples). I shoot for the stars, so if I miss, I can still land on the Moon.

Mum's birthday is next Tuesday, and then Amanda's birthday dinner is on Wednesday (her birthday is actually on Easter Monday but she's going back to Taupo for that). So I have to think of a couple of presents! Thought of a couple of things for Amanda, but whenever I point anything out, she either doesn't like it or doesn't like the price, tough lady, I'll have to think harder.

The 209 test is on Wednesday, I'd better study! And the assignment for the same paper is the day after that! Ouch. All this work. But then I get two weeks break over easter and into April, so that's pretty sweet. Thinking of heading to Christchurch since Qantas are having a sale on - 49 dollars one way, pretty cheap if you ask me.

Didn't go to the movies tonight - first time I get to be home on a Friday this year. I am looking forward to just chilling out, cooking a nice dinner, and taking some time to relax. Work again tomorrow, so I don't get much of a weekend anyways.

Can't wait to unpack my iPod and give it a whirl :D

Selling ice to eskimos

In an effort to get some extra cash, I signed up for the Avon Reseller programme. This is a process where I show you booklets of wonderful make-up and jewellery and gifts and various other womanly niceties, and you, my dear customer, say: "Ooh ooh, yes please, I'd like 2 of these and some of those!". Then I get enough customers to warrant 75 dollars worth of goods and send off the order to Avon, they send the stuff, I collect the money, pay Avon, keep the margin. Rinse and repeat. Sounds easy. They sent me all sorts of great brochures and samples and ideas, and I'm very keen, but the concept breaks down when one realises the following things:

1. 95% of the people I am acquainted with are male.
2. 98% of those men wouldn't even use a deodorant when asked nicely.
3. The 5% that are women are either full time studends and poor or don't use such products.

Yes, my business will be taking off in no time! NOT.

So yes, if you know anyone who would be interested in some Avon stuff, send them my way, STAT.

In other news, I won $100 at www.18tracker.com
I was pretty stoked, now just to wait for the cheque in the mail!

Still on the topic of money and selling things, I am trying to offload my collection of Angel, so that I can, barring a free gift from a mysterious stranger, acquire my very own iPod. The Angel DVDs are up on TradeMe.

I have a Proteins and Enzymes test on Wednesday. I am somewhat nervous because it appears I don't know much on the topic. In fact, I should be studying this very momeny, but, as is customary with such things, I am procrastinating.

I read a fair few blogs around the place and I find that not everyone can take the most meaningless boring day and still turn it into an interesting to read blog. I often wonder how that can be accomplished, but unfortunately successfull writers are usually too busy to answer my innane questions. I suppose all I can do is keep writing, or stop writing. I've installed a counter on my blog, so at least I can keep track of my virtual stalkers. Should be interesting to see what pans out - for all I know I am talking into an empty ether, in which case I might be able to write about things more personal, mwuahaha!

Meh, there's nothing to write about really now - I had all these bright ideas, but because I've already thought about them, I can't be bothered writing them out again. I have a phobia of repetition.

Obsession

The weather is beautiful today in the capital of New Zealand. So beautiful even that I cannot bring myself to doing anything. I opened a beer (Monteiths Pilsner if you must know) and sat on the deck, taking in the smells and sounds of breeze, sunshine, and twenty odd degrees.

Butterflies hanging around flowers, a flock of birds camping our TV aerial, the air so clear that I can see to the other side of the harbour. Ahhh if only I had something to do that involved outside. Playing WoW on such a day seems a herecy. So instead I'll blog.

I made a really delicious breakfast this morning. I mashed up a can of salmon, avocado, hard boiled eggs, mayonnaise, and some salt and lemmon pepper. Stuffed that concoction into pita pockets and added some fancy lettuce (the stuff that comes loose in bags). It was delicious with a cup of coffee and some music videos on TV.

Read the Sunday Star Times. Raybon Kan hasn't been funny since he got back from Thailand, or maybe it's because of his laser eye surgery - the world just isn't all that funny unless you have astigmatism? The first page of the Focus section told me that everyone has an iPod and how people should stop their own soundtracks to life and tune in to the sounds of the real going-ons.

Well, to me it just seemed like an ironic ad for the iPod. You see, for the past two weeks or so, every waking moment of my day I spent day dreaming about an iPod. It's an obsession. All I want is a little mp3 player with white headphones and a turny wheel and a piece of software that will magically move my mega mp3 collection onto this device. I think of you, my iPod, every day. I dream of you. My unrequited love growing stronger with every hour.

*ahem* Yes, my name is Lana, and I have a crush on a hardware device. If anyone is so rich and famous that they can gift me one, my address is 25 Alanbrooke Pl, Karori, Wellington, New Zealand, Planet Earth. That's right - Earth, where dreams may come true. Insert a Tui ad here.

*sigh* In other news, I have dropped the second major in my degree. One of the required papers for it is Cell and Developmental Biology, and in the first two weeks they taught me about genes named Bad, Wingless, and Sonic Hedgehog. I shit you not. This was followed up by such concepts as Programmed Cell Death, Destined to Differentiate, and Knows where it'll end up. No one told me that this paper had a prerequisite of Philosophy or Theology. Needless to say it didn't compute and I could do with less time at Uni anyhow. So, now you're looking at the proud one of 15 will-be graduates of Molecular Pharmacology and Medicinal Chemistry major.

That reminds me of another snag in my evil plan - in the paper today I noticed a short blurb about P making. The government (or its Medical Ministry of some sort) is about to approve the change from pseudoephedrine cold&flu medicines to the ones that don't contain it. Specifically so that there is a reduction in the methamphetamine manufacturing. There goes my idea of a mobile P lab as a summer job!

I got myself a little bit of a jobby, 32 hours a week, paying 10 dollars an hour. It's not much, but together with the student loan living expenses, I think I might be able to afford to pay my huge Credit card and Personal loan bills and avoid bankruptcy! Hooray for me. Also applied for a job at the Wellington MedLab, it's only on Sundays, but a great foot in the door of the industry I'm heading for. Let's all cross our toes and hope I get it.

I think that's about it as far as recent events go. Oh yes, I went to see Closer. Fantastic movie, albeit lots of people don't like it. In fact, most people I went to see it with said "so what's it really about?" I guess that's the beauty of it - the movie is just a look in the mirror. There is no plot as such, no great big message, no moral. Just a bunch of people that get together. Funnily, one of the scenes in the movie was almost identical to one of the scenes I lived in Germany. It was amusing for its similarity, but sad for its deja vu. Bad relationships are what people do best. At the end you realise that everyone is just like you anyways - human mind tends towards the dramatic.

The best line in the movie: Lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off.