Shed a tear and mourned the loss of Amy Winehouse yesterday in bed, hungover. Can understand why people can take the piss about her being a drug fucked drop kick who was bound to die sooner or later, but come on guys, she's human too! And let's be honest, only the best artists have dabbled in narcotics in their lifetime! Seriously upset that another amazing artist has bitten the dust far too early in their life, but I guess death is unevitable for everyone. Amy Winehouse features on every playlist I've ever created I'm pretty sure. I've sung along to Just Friends in a depressed state and danced around to Fuck Me Pumps getting ready to go out. Below is one of my all time favourite songs EVER - Mister Magic. No one can argue that she was a talent times one hundred.
The Skateboard came about in the 1950's by a number of totally rad surfer dudes who thought they'd use a board on wheels to practice their surfing technique when the waves were too small. It became a shit hot trend, and reached peak popularity in the early to mid-60's. Sadly, the board bummed out shortly after this peak - numbnuts of the world dropped the Skateboard and picked up a Hula-Hoop instead. Not even kidding. Enter Californian beach bums, 1972ish, who picked up the thought-to-be-long-gone fad again and got fancy with making Skateboards. The rest is history.
I'm in love with the 70's Skateboarding Era. Look at how serious but chilled these dudes are!
I wish I was alive for this...
I've been involved in one of my first real social settings in Melbourne recently. I'm not an insociable hermit of any kind, I've just been focussed on my job hunt and have been too poor to venture out and about, jumping into social scenes. This social setting has been an experience. It's been like heading back to school. 9am - 3pm everyday, classroom setting, learning, homework. But it made me realise how long it's been since I've found myself in a setting where I have to introduce myself to a whole group of people, make friends (as such), and socialise with complete strangers.
It was weird.
A week on, most of the awkward conversation has passed. But a week on, you have learnt the nature of most peoples' characters. You get a feel for who these people are. And goodness gracious the paper! This week has been close to torture at times. I have recognised and, to be honest, labelled the characters I've come across.
Exhibit A:The Know-it-All
A pain in my ass. Generally people who are confident yet arrogant. Exhibit A's idea of conversation, is shit. It consists of bragging and elitist bullshit with a sprinkle of speaking over everyone. Their tone is pompous and they like to be-little everyone else at any chance they get.
Exhibit B:The Rambler
Be aware of The Rambler at all times. Exhibit B springs up out of nowhere in coversations. How their idea relates to the topic of conversation, can range anywhere between slightly and extremely on point. Be warned, The Rambler can hold you hostage! Have a number of conversation stoppers handy to exit the conversation when you don't want to hear anymore merry-go-round stories about their childhood horse's stable.
Exhibit C:The 'I Love My Own Voice' Asshole
My pet peeve. These Assholes literally love the sound of their own voice. Any chance given to them to speak, is snatched up quick, like a 2-for-1 at Showgirls. Exhibit Cs tend to have a bit of The Rambler in them, and they can raise their opinions on dog biscuits when the group is discussing market research. This Asshole doesn't care if their answer is right or wrong, they simply want a bit of attention.
Exhibit D:The Repeat Questioner
Pretty self explanatory, Exhibit D is a prisoner to their self-doubt. The instructions or answer have been given, and The Repeat Questioner feels the need to ask and clarify this two seconds later. Exhibit asks questions that they definitely have the answer to, over and over again. There's nothing wrong with clarification, but quadruple clarification, thirty seconds apart is beyond ridiculous.
Exhibit E: The Story Teller
Similar to the Rambler at times, the Story Teller has a story for every example given in class. Whether they were fourteen when it happened, or forty, they feel the need to let the whole group know of the time they bought a bagless vacuum cleaner and had a part of it replaced under warranty. Interesting. Yawn.
I'm not a bitch, I'm not (excessively) judgemental, but sometimes I want to get things done without the above making things difficult. It's always good to have a smidgen of them in your environments, but anything over a smidgen and I'm driven to the rolling of eyes - and that's just rude. Do us a both a favour, my dear Exhibits A through E, and help yourselves.
Vampire Weekend - Oxford Comma
First the window, then it's to the wall/
Lil' Jon, he always tells the truth/
Did not know those were the words! Vampire Weekend for the lols.
I've made the jump over to 'Tea, Cardigans & My Foul Mouth' from my old blog because every normal functioning human being craves change once in a while. That's my only legit reason to be honest.
My writing alter-ego has now seized the opportunity to display another part of myself as a person. I am still a half-caste kid, yes, but I'm also a bonafide Nana trapped inside that half-caste kid. Particularly since I moved to Melbourne.
Like I've mentioned before, I'm a tea enthusiast. Me loves the tea leaves! Since I've moved to Melbourne I can safely say I have increased my tea drinking to about twenty cups a day. No shit. Nothing like a strong cuppa in the morn accompanied by a cigarette. Throughout the day I have a few cups while I'm reading the paper, online job hunting, watching Oprah, Dr. Phil and my favourite, Welcome Back Kotter (John Travolta you make me giddy). I have a few more while I supervise Jeremiah's homework. Night falls and I have twice as many cuppas after dinner right up until bed. The amount of times I have to pee come 4am is ridic, I will tell you this. I've accumulated a variety of flavours, from Peppermint to Rosehip, and I even have my own section in the pantry. I'm spoilt for choice! I definitely think my tea-drinking has increased here because it's a time-filler. I find myself twiddling my thumbs if I don't have a cup of tea between my frostbitten fingers. Even so, words cannot describe my love for tea.
My sense of style can apparently be Nana to a T at times - according to my sister and the whanau here. Cardigans, cuffed brown pants, big woolly jumpers, red lippy and mocassins are apparently Granny in a nutshell. I certainly didn't think they were, until I saw a 70-year-old man in a close to matching get-up to mine at Coles. Not going to lie, homeboy was lookin' gooooood. A week later I found myself buying an above the ankle pleated white skirt at the Salvo's and realised the 70-year-old woman next to me was eyeing it up. Of course I gave the old bag on a mobility scooter a low, Jacob Black wolf growl - it clearly gave her the creeps because she backed off ASAP. But that's when it hit home - my God, I'm a 70-year-old woman. I'm definitely not going to change my steez, because it's partly who I am and I'm definitely no fashionista, but I guess there are hundreds of other girls like me trying to 're-create the look'.
And then comes the Nana Nap. I cannot go a day without dozing off late afternoon for at least fifteen minutes. Is this normal? I can be in the car, off to do some shopping and suddenly feel drowsy. Super awkward pulling up to Coles, dragging myself out of a coma, wiping the dribble off my chin - "Oh are we here," she says, half-dazed.
Jeremiah's mother has taken to encouraging the kids to call me Aunty Nana. I have no problems with this, in fact it makes me lol. I exhibit my Granny-like traits like a true Grandmother exhibits her grandchildren and bad arthritis. I guess the only thing that sets me apart from the average Granny Lou, is my foul mouth.
I like tea. I like cardigans. And I have a foul mouth.
