Staycation week

Today is Saturday; I've been on Staycation since Monday (or indeed, Saturday last week, if weekends are counted when considering annual leave). I took a weeks' annual leave in an effort to get some sleep, some rest, and to re-route my sanity which was somewhere quite far west of where I am currently residing.

The hands down best thing about the Staycation is that I didn't have anything planned at all, although I organised my annual leave so that it coincided with Shannon's. We could say, in terms of my plans, that I'd intended to be Chilling with my Dawg. Yep, indeed, we be chillin' (and watching a million* episodes of the Wire**).

TV series consumed in mass quantities:

• The Wire Series 4
• True Blood Series 1 and 2 (a solo pleasure; also hands down some of the silliest television I have ever watched)
• The Sopranos Series 6

I love reading about characters/actors/series on Wikipedia but I have the worst habit of reading in advance of the episode that I am currently watching; read - spoiling it for myself. (Warning! This episode synopsis contains spoilers!)

 

I was the worst at this when I decided I wanted to 'check up on something' in True Blood and then found out about the shape-shifting guy waaaaay too early on in the piece. No more Wikipedia checking on True Blood for me. Wikipedia is the reason I never finished watching the second series of Twin Peaks.

 

Let's over-analyse this impulse: is it because I hate surprises? Can this spoilering-impulse be twinned to my reasons for favouring TV dramatisations of classic novels over watching 'real' movies? And why I re-read/re-watch? Is it the fear of the unknown...? Do I constantly crave safety in my entertainment life in order to make up for the uncertainty in my life-life? Thoughts?

Staycation Cooking

Staycation cooking has involved filling the freezer (in the days when we lived with flatmates it would have involved more baking; as it is, Shannon tends to eat what ever is in the tins so slowly that it goes stale before it's all been eaten , and I have the inverse problem: namely, EAT ALL THE CAKE).

I made Budget Bytes' black bean quesadillas and roasted vege burritos and the shelves in my freezer look exceptionally happy. (Related: I cannot roll burritos.) I am SO excited to go back to work and eat delicious black bean tortilla things for lunch.

Lots of free time has also mean reading a heap of blogs. Hence Smitten Kitchen's (/Ottolenghi's) baked orzo with eggplant and mozzarella, and blackberry and apple loaf as posted by Bex. I made this into a cake because I have no loaf tin, and with blueberries and lemons because that's what I had lying around. And in an effort to avoid the stale/eat all the cake issues: lots of this cake has been moved around Petone, to Nat and Mark, and to a fabrication workshop that let Shannon use their big presses. Giving baking to other people is pretty great.

Final food efforts: chicken stock, slow-cooking dried pulses and then freezing them, brioche in the bread maker (the hugest loaf ever) and baked oatmeal - the Super Natural Every Day recipe. Incidentally, the baked oatmeal is also killer for dessert.

It was my turn to cook yesterday evening and - you might be surprised to discover - I had cooking fatigue. Something simple with tofu for dinner tonight.

Wellington is getting that "good-looking spring"-thing

Wednesday Shannon and I went to Eastbourne and walked around in the sunshine and wind, and ate weird-but-good sandwiches. I threw pebbles at large logs (and repeatedly missed). Shannon picked up dead botanical things and what he thought was an abandoned sea-animal skin. The beach we were on (on the way to Pencarrow Lighthouse) is gloriously barren and windswept and there was no-one around.

Eastbourne bus terminal is pretty cute. Art deco?

I have only three more days before I go back to work. Yesterday I watched a crazy huge amount of television (in an effort not to deal with something annoying) so I suspect that if I've got to that point it's probably time to go back to work and do something insanely productive. Like update web pages.

*hyperbole

**Also, I've recently read (and re-read) this article about the top 25 outdated rap slang words. I still have no idea what 'chickenhead' means. 

What I know about Beau Brummell

Sunday I went to a lecture about Regency dandy Beau Brummell at Te Papa, given by Ian Kelly, an English actor and Brummell's biographer. The lecture was put on by the Friends of Te Papa and held in the Soundings Theatre, at the not inconsiderable sum of $25 at ticket for non-members. 

I do have vaguely directed interests in both Regency History and the history of costume, but it was the marketing genius of the lecture title that sold it to me: Undressing Mr Darcy: sex, suits and shifting cultures 1770 - 1820. Naked Mr Darcy!

Ian Kelly was a very entertaining speaker, and gave a lecture that was informative without being too specialised but wasn't patronising either. The tone was a little bit naughty. Titters abounded.

The only issue I had with the entire experience was with this horrible old bat who sat next to me in the five minutes before the lecture was due to start. As the speaker was introduced, this woman turned to me and said: "Are you going to write throughout the entire presentation?"

Me: "Ah - I thought I'd take a few notes...?"

HOB: "Well, I find it very distracting. If you're going to write, you should go and sit over there - " indicating single, lonely seat in the corner by a giant pole.

Me (fighting my "respect your elders upbringing" and horrified by the rudeness of aforementioned HOB): "Well, if you find it distracting, perhaps you could sit over there."

HOB ignores my comment. I ignore her and start making notes, but I'm boiling with anger and guilt. In the end I decide that I can't stand her giving me the evils from the edges of her pince nez , and I flouncily gather up my bits and begin to move away.

HOB (sniffily): "Thank you."

Me (hissing): "Spectacular rudeness." Which was neither particularly mature nor very respectful to my elders, but did allow me to have the last word. Ha.

I then preceded to sit on the lonely, sad person seat where I was unable to concentrate on the first ten minutes of the lecture because I was furious and kept coming up with a million better comebacks than spectacular rudeness.

Anyways, what I now know about Beau Brummell:

• He was born at Number 10 Downing Street (then Number 5 Downing Square). His parents weren't married and his mother was a courtesan.
• His parents had a country house with a flint hermitage. They advertised in a London paper for a hermit to live in their hermitage. Tom Stoppard makes a reference to this in one of his plays (Arcadia?).
• His entry into society, as it were, was as the child subject of a Joshua Reynolds painting called "The Brummell heirs".
• The Prime Minister Lord North (his father's boss) sent him and his brother to Eton where he began working on what would later be known as "the Brummell look" - i.e., mostly monochrome, with sexy skin-0tight pants.
• Some of the wearers of these skin-tight pants (Lord Byron was mentioned I think?) definitely did not wear undies, probably due to VPL. This can be deduced from their laundry bills.
• Brummell was the Prince of Wales' (later the Prince Regent) best man when he (George) disastrously married Caroline of Brunswick. Marriage fail!
• He resigned his commission from the Hussars when the regiment was posted to Manchester, claiming that he couldn't be seen anywhere so unfashionable.
• Brummell and his tailor at Meyer and Mortimer are attributed with the invention of the full length trouser.
• He bathed every day which was a scandalous innovation. The bathing took up one hour of the three it would take him to get dressed every morning. A second hour of the dressing process was spent tying his cravat perfectly.
• Peeps, including the Prince Regent, would come and observe this process. Because Beau Brummell was just that fashionable.
• Ignominious end: he fled the country because he insulted the Prince of Wales (short story - called him fat), and also because he had mountains of debt.
• Annnddd.... he died in Northern France in 1840 of tertiary syphilis sans hair and sans teeth, hallucinating about having Regency celebrities over for parties.

My favourite conclusions though were around what parts of the Regency lifestyle can be seen as contributing to Victorian standards of morality and the Victorian obsession with insanity and depression. And what it comes down to (at least, according to Ian Kelly) is that  the attendant venereal diseases (especially syphilis) of Regency promiscuity left a super-nasty taste in the mouth of the aristocracy and upper classes, no family of which had escaped unscathed. Lots of congenital madness and what not. 

CONCLUSION: Horrible Old Bats aside, lecture was good. Future idea for Friends of Te Papa lectures: find a seat far away from the main entrance.

Music for Monday Morning

Mmm, alliteration. Must be true.

Here is a new video clip for an older Urbantramper song. Also does rather a wonderful job of showcasing Wellington - beautiful Wellington.


My Grand Plan from ekiekieki on Vimeo.

So, about that tournament thing that's happening...

Possible subtitles include:

• a Rugby Widow’s guide to surviving the World Cup
• how I watched more BBC classic novel dramatisations than can possibly be healthy  
• OR: eating cupcakes in bed - yes or no?

Oh HAI Sonny Bill! You can leave your shoes under my bed any day.
Mark Taylor, Waikato Times. Via Stuff.

Hey, so, did you know that there is a big tournament thingy happening in New Zealand? It’s true! Every week you can watch a lot of television with lots of men with really large thighs tackling each other to the ground and fighting over an egg-shaped ball. Also, there is a great deal of hype about! As I have no TV I’ve managed to avoid most of the hideousness and miscellaneous player scandal, which is something that I’m terribly smug about (I am sooo Smuggy McSmugness over here).

On the other hand, my boyfriend is crazy about rugby. He loves it to an infectious extent. My attitude towards rugby changed completely after watching games with Shannon because he loves the game so - there is much ecstatic yelling, and exclaiming over the abilities of the various players... I’m afraid that I’m not really doing a very good job of explaining, but suffice to say, for Shannon rugby-watching is not a passive thing - it’s very much a full-on interactive experience, for him and everyone around him.

Obviously, a lot of his time is taken up with ruggers at present and as I am an impoverished social-sad-sack, this means that I have a great deal more time alone. However! I haven’t been wasting my time! No, I’ve been researching some ways to enjoy the World Cup period for non-rabid rugby fans. Some suggestions:

• Be nice to tourists. It’ll make you feel good about yourself and hopefully be a deposit in your karma bank for when you’re travelling. Also: how would I know about the Skittles bomb* if I hadn’t talked to a drunken laddish South African dude at the Malthouse? 
• Watch one or two games. Try going to a bar that has a world demographic (by which I mean - a Wales game at the Welsh bar, the Brave Blossoms at a Japanese bar). Failing that - try watching the game in a bar with decent beer/cider/wine and food. Don’t try to have a conversation. 
• Arbitrarily choose a team to support and make yourself a really awesomely naff costume. I saw a Wales fan dressed as a dragon and it made me so happy. Also: costumes are fun. 
• Enjoy your widow/widower-hood by watching programmes that would otherwise be relentlessly mocked by your S.O. Watch until your eyes drop out. Watch some more. Curse the new laws that will reveal the extent of your illegal downloading habit to the flat bill-payer if you get caught. Curse the people who scratch library DVDs. 
• Respect other people’s fandom - because it totally sucks when people are down on your fandom. (Chances are your fandom will never be respected, but think of it as another karmic deposit.) 
• Look at a lot of images of really large man thighs. Think about how those dudes could snap you in half, and how tiny your wrist would look in their fist. *giggle* 
• Go and see or take part in some of the REAL NZ Festival that’s running alongside the Cup. The Wellingtonista made quite a good list of Things That Are Happening in Wellington, and I know that The Body Festival is running in Christchurch. 

Truth be told, I’ve mostly been eating in bed, knitting cardigans for summer and watching BBC classic novel dramatisations - but I’m thinking this would be a good chance to sew two more dresses and work on my op-shopping website. Perhaps we should add “generally catch up on your life” to the list.

Lovely reader, do you have anything to add -- ways of enjoying the RWC period? We’re all people with fantastic imaginations and we have another month or so to use them! Woo!



*A shot of Cointreau in Red Bull. Sounds vile.

Eating Some Food in Wellington, a review: Dockside

In Part Five, I go to Dockside and am distinctly underwhelmed.

Get your suits here!

On Sunday I went with Shannon and his father Ross and stepmother Angela for lunch at Dockside. Dockside would never be my first choice for a place to eat, but given that Angela didn't enjoy herself very much at all at the last place we ate (Sweet Mother's Kitchen), it was definitely their turn to nominate a place to meet.

So. About Dockside. The last time I went to Dockside was about four years ago, and again, against my better judgement. It used to be referred as the Dry Cleaner, because “everyone went home with a suit” ie boozing after work on a Friday night at Dockside would lead you to score at the business end of town.

Sunday brunch at Dockside is somewhat more salubrious. The place really is in a wonderful position overlooking the harbour and the weather was absolutely stunning, so sitting in the conservatory was very pleasant indeed. There was a man playing inoffensive music on an acoustic guitar, so inoffensive and forgettable indeed that I can't even name one of the songs that he played. So: good company, lovely views, and live muzak.

The staff were very pleasant too, even when we turned up over an hour early because Shannon had got the time wrong (and now I am letting this go). The front of house staff were attentive without being overly so, refilling our water glasses frequently enough to keep us happy but not so much that one felt one was being chided for lack of hydration. Our food and drinks arrived very punctually. We drank a rather delicious Brookfield's Rose (Hawkes Bay) which made me think about summer in a very wistful manner.

The food was another matter entirely. The first glance at the menu reveals absolutely insane overpricing of brunch food. We're talking $20 bacon and eggs, $30 fish and chips, $19.50 for four pieces of squid and a salad. Those kind of prices are all very well and good if the food is crazy delicious, the ingredients sourced fresh locally and are organic etc etc. However, the food was average beyond belief, by which I mean that it was not very good at all. While the actual squid in my overpriced salt and pepper squid salad was itself very tender, it was encased in a very floury batter with not a lot of salt and pepper going on. The salad was a sad little puddle of mesculun leaves and contained FAR too much red onion (and not a lot else). I had some of Shannon's fish and chips and thought that the fish was overcooked (mushy) and the crumbing on the fish was too too dry. Gross. His chips were good but were the kind of frozen shoestring fries that you can buy for about $10 for umpteen kilos at Moore Wilsons and the tomato sauce was definitely Watties. Dudes, the best thing about the whole meal was the deep fry! A sad state of affairs.

In conclusion: a lovely place to catch up with Ross and Angela with gorgeous views of the harbour and inoffensive live muzak. However the prices and the quality of the food leave a hell of a lot to be desired. For a place that purports to specialise in seafood, their actual abilities to cook it were derisive. Don't do it!

Epilogue: on the way home we saw a seal and the worlds tiniest little tug boat thing. That was cool.

In which I discover that I love snow

Wellingtonians: bear with me as I wax lyrical, like so many others, on the beauty and excitement of snow.

Others: It does not snow in Wellington. It never happens. The last time there was anything approximating snow was in 1995 when I was 13 years old, and the thing I remember most about the whole situation was my best friend's story about jumping on her trampoline and shattering the sheet of ice that had formed on it. There has never been anything like the snow flurries we've had since Sunday. It's not cold enough to form drifts, and the constant melting and refreezing is causing black ice but HEY HO, it's super fun while it falls.

I tried to take photos and make a video with my phone but nothing is as good as this video of snow falling in Cuba Mall. You can see snow on the Bucket Fountain!

I went for a walk yesterday in the snow on Cuba Mall and it was so much fun. I had a cup of coffee in hand and was wearing  my giant red 60s woollen coat with beavers on the pockets that was "Inspired by the Eskimos of Canada"*. Being warm, snuggly and well-caffeinated while walking around in snow flurries is like a fairy tale. I almost want to move somewhere where it always snows in the winter.

*On the label, verbatim.

Eating Some Food in Wellington, a review: Deluxe

Part four of an infrequent series

In Part Four, I visit Deluxe, have a savoury muffin, and continue to enjoy a cafe at which I've never worked.

NZHistory.net

Deluxe is my local and my favourite Wellington cafe: close to school and home and work. They make the best savoury muffins, vegan cupcakes and vegan sandwiches in the whole of Wellington, bar none. I’ve never had a better savoury muffin than those I get regularly from Deluxe. A contentious statement indeed! And yet, I will stand by it, and defend Deluxe savoury muffins against the inferior muffins that will maybe suggested as competitors (bring it ON!).

Frankly, I don’t believe it’s possible to have a bad bit of baking from Deluxe. The pizzas are good, as are the big bean and lentil salads and tempeh wrap things. The vegetarian foccacia has a perfect blend of pumpkin, pesto and feta, sweet and salty and cheesy. I’ve never had one of those quinoa ball things because there is something about the concept of ball-shaped foods that I don’t really like, but Eli was eating one the other day and I believe she said it was good. They make lovely sweet treats and pies and interesting sweet breads. I guess that the style of baking is similar to Midnight Espresso in terms of it’s vegetarian and vegan slant, but with the difference that Deluxe’s food is inevitably delicious and never disappointing like Midnight Espresso baking can frequently be.

The cafe serves Havana coffee, which I love. However, Havana has no strict training schedule that they give to their baristas, and the coffee served at all cafes with Havana as their roastery blend can be a bit hit and miss. I rarely have a not-decent coffee from Deluxe, but sometimes if you get your coffee at the end of a rush you can taste that the barista needs to backflush the machine or adjust the grind ever so slightly - the coffee tastes slightly dirty or burnt. Truth be told, I like my coffee a bit rough and ready so this does not make me unhappy - but if you’re some kind of L’Affare or Fuel or Mojo lover and you like your coffee smooth and predictable you could be disappointed. Keyword: strong.

Deluxe is located at the far end of Courtenay Place next to the Embassy Theatre. It’s a tiny sliver of a place with a tiny kitchen and counter area, and they only serves counter food. There’s no bathroom in the cafe and the closest loos are the epic bathrooms at the Embassy; any excuse to use these palatial pots is good by me. I’m pretty sure the front of house staff is at least partly hired on their indie cred, but are usually friendly and aren’t adverse to sharing a joke. The tall guy with the long hair and nose (John?) remembers my coffee order and doesn’t tell me off on the days I forget my Keep Cup. Suzy is a great baker and pretends to still recognise me from Fidels days, which I appreciate. I like the new girl with the topknot better than the other girl with the topknot. This morning there was a new girl with a feather in her hair. I have no idea what she’s like as a front of house person, but this coffee that I’m drinking right now is rather delicious and I thought the feather was a nice touch.

Finally: one of the things I like best about Deluxe is that it’s a well established Wellington cafe that I feel comfortable in and that I haven’t worked at. I went through a stage where I worked at a lot of cafes in a very short amount of time, and it changed my relationship with all of them - I still HATE going to Fidels. The fact I haven’t had an anxiety attack behind that counter still preserves The Mystery, and that I deeply appreciate.

Eating Some Food in Wellington, a review: Trisha's Pies

Part three of an infrequent series

In Part Three, I visit Trisha's Pies and eat yet another delicious pastry gravy meat treat.

via Flickr user TELPorfolio

For Wellington-based readers, I don't imagine that I am doing anything less than preaching to the converted, because these pies are what other pies DREAM of being when they grow up. They are the Ultimate Pie, on the VERY PINNACLE of pie-based achievements - perfectly balanced quantities of delicious gravy; tender, delicious and non-grisly* meat; and crisp, buttery flakey pastry.

The Cambridge Terrace branch of Trisha's is right across the road from my school, and it takes every ounce of self control NOT to eat a pie everyday. Tuesday is my special day for Pie Treats and I usually zip across the road after class has finished and take a Peppered Steak pie to the waterfront where I proceed to burn the top of my mouth with hot gravy because I'm so desperate to eat my little pastry-meat envelope.

I can strongly recommend the Peppered Steak pie, but may I also recommend that you look into the Steak and Kidney and Steak and Onion pies? I have heard a rumour that the chicken pies aren't really All That, but I cannot testify to that end myself. The regular sized pies are normally fine for me ($4.50) but on a particularly gluttonous day I have been known to have one of the larger ones ($5.20) which was no challenge whatsoever.

Anyway, today I actually wagged school in order to some work for a friend, but I did not allow this to throw out my Tuesday treat! I decided to have a Steak and Onion pie to mix things up, and while it was good I did regret that I hadn't had another Peppered Steak which are my current passion. I believe the lovely older lady behind the counter in the tiny shop is Trisha herself, although I wouldn't swear to that. Generally, she's more cheerful than she was today, but I believe she still managed to call me "dear" which suitably completed my Trisha's Pies experience.

The first time I went to Trisha's Pies was only at the end of last year, during that strange pre-Christmas period where some people have already gone away for their summer holidays and others are still slaving away in stuffy offices. Shannon and I went to buy a pie on our way down from our house, and the lady behind the counter made small talk with us. She remarked that Shannon and I "must have broken up already."

I was shocked! And I believe that my face must have show it as she then quickly clarified the statement with "Oh! From work!" In the split second between remarks I'd had this horrible sinking feeling, that somehow she knew that S was only taking me to get a pie in order to soften the blow of the end of our relationship. Did Trisha know something I didn't? Were meat pies the food of couples that had just broken up? How many other couples has she seen buy their final pie together?

And now for some kind of conclusion:
Trisha's Pies rule, and you should totally get yourself a pie! And Trisha doesn't really want you to break up, it's all a horrible misunderstanding.



*or indeed, non-gristly

Eating Some Food in Wellington, a review: Customs Brew Bar

Part two of an infrequent series

In Part Two, I visit the Customs Brew Bar and have a rather nice sandwich.

via Selector, part of an article about the eco-cork flooring in the place. How about that!

Friday lunch I broke my "no meals out rule" for the first time in a week, and sought out a sandwich at the Customs Brew Bar. This wasn't the first time that I've visited Customs but it was the first time that I'd eaten there - my desire to do so was entirely because there was a woman eating a sandwich when I had a coffee there on Thursday and it looked really.freaking.good.

Anyways, on Friday I marched in and up to the counter and demanded of the wait dude what "the deal was with their sandwiches", a request that he interpreted pretty well given how opaque (rude?) it was. I had a toasted roast beef, horseradish and blue cheese foccacia and it was as delicious as the Thursday woman's sandwich had looked. The only possible complaint I could have would be that the horseradish was not as fiery as I would have liked. However: still crazy delicious! For drinks I went nuts, and instead of my regular soy flat white I had a little demitasse of cold drip coffee. CALL ME A CONVERT. I wanted to drink it until I bounced off the walls.

I can't fault the service - I'd forgotten my wallet and didn't realise until after I'd ordered my lunch, but they were 100% happy for me to eat first, enjoy my lunch, and come back and pay later. Nice one! Everyone was super friendly as well which is always welcome. However, in the past I've been sitting there while a friend of one of the wait staff came in and had a very loud half hour conversation about fixed gear bicycles - shouting at one another across the cafe. Bah! Too loud! I am totally pro baristas having lives and friends and talking to their friends about their lives, but it is a bit irritating when you're sitting there alone and can't concentrate on your ridiculously wordy novel.

In conclusion: awesome cold drip coffee, the espresso is more than acceptable, I'm not sold on those new/old fangled analogue drip coffees yet but I'm willing to be convinced. Roast beef sandwich = for the win, and when friends aren't around the service is great! Treat yourself to a nice lunch there and make sure you try the cold drip coffee.

Fun fact: Customs was nominated for both best coffee and best service at the Wellingtonista TAWAs last year, which drove me onwards to explore the place, proper-like.

Eating Some Food in Wellington, a review: The Southern Cross

Part one of a (proposed) infrequent series about Eating Food in Wellington.


In Part One, I visit the Southern Cross, and eat quite a lot of meat.

Cadged directly from the Southern Cross dining page. I like the seats quite a lot.

On Tuesday night Shannon and I had a hott date night: but also, a hott date night that was super cheap because I had been given $40 worth of "Southern Cross Dollars" through Derby. I'd never eaten a proper meal at the Cross before because it's mostly a pub, the food always seems crazy expensive for pub food, and whenever I was there I was more intent in having a derby meeting or drinking as much beer as possible than on eating. ANYWAYS, we went, and it turns out that Tuesday night is two-for-one hot stone grill night! I had no idea that such an amazingly awesome and simultaneously bogan thing existed in this world. Also, isn't it bizarre the way that it's MORE expensive to cook your own meal on a ridiculously hot paving stone in a purpose made serving dish than it is to get a qualified chef to cook it? A deep reflection, I know.

We had Devils on Horseback as an entree (pre-dinner nibble) which was accompanied with a huge jug of Emerson's Bookbinder beer. The Devils on Horseback tasted like Devils on Horseback, which are (for the uninitiated), prunes wrapped in bacon, and are retro as all hell but well due for a major revival. The Emersons Bookbinder tasted like Emersons Bookbinder and there was quite a lot of it. Too much, in hindsight but HEY HO! All good in the 'hood (she slurs, as she slides down the Formica table).

The entree was cleared away very quickly (good if we're going to the theatre, bad on a date night) and we were presented with our hot stone grill mains: Shannon had a 400gm Surf and Turf (classy!) and I had a 400gm steak and envied his prawns. I only burnt myself on the paver once so I was quite pleased with that. We both had salad and I had chips and aioli with the steak, which were - boring. But! Even if I didn't think much of the accompaniments (blah caramelised onion blah) the meat was really, freaking good and we were both very happy with our enormous meat portions (*snicker*). Fun fact: hot stone grill makes your clothes smell like meat.

The waiter was a bit vague in a snooty kind of way but warmed up throughout the evening; I confess I felt very sorry for anyone having to work in the humidity and heat of Tuesday and I totally empathised with her vagueness. At the end of the meal we presented the vouchers which caused some consternation because we were getting a free meal (two-for-one) and paying with free money ("Southern Cross Dollars") and we were mildly told off by some guy higher up on the ladder than our waiter, who figured that they were paying for the same meal four times? However, when I offered to pay for both meals they refused my money, which was both passive aggressive and kind of nice, and meant that I paid something like $25 for a meal worth three times as much.

In conclusion: you could probably have an OK time at the Cross; a much better time if you drink lots and really want to experience the weirdness of hot-stone grill food. I probably wouldn't strongly recommend that you go, except maybe if your parents were in town from New Plymouth or Tauranga and didn't want to go somewhere too threatening. The staff we had didn't appear to really give a fuck, but I've been served by completely fine people there in the past so I don't want to tar them all with the same brush.

Social Networking I Have Known: Foursquare and Brightkite

Part two of an irregular series in which I talk (not particularly knowledgeably) about the Social Media things I've done. And usually withdrawn from at least once.

Could you imagine texting with these nails, on this? I can't. My mind is officially Sparkle-blown.
via We Heart It

I grouped these together, because my limited experience of Brightkite was as a kind of location based messaging service. Either I was using it all wrong or it turned on it's heel and became something entirely different, because it now seems to be some kind of group texting service? Anyways, for the purpose of this let us say: I am talking about location-based services.

Essentially, any opinion that I have on either service is preceded by the fact that I think that location-based services are a bit creepy. I don't want people to know where I am all the time,  especially if that place is my home, and given the fact that my "real life" and "online life" friends and acquaintances rarely co-incide. In the end it was this that ended my brief love affair with Brightkite - particularly a conversation in which Shannon was unimpressed that both Mark (Maetl) and I had listed his house on Brightkite. I think his hesitancy to have all and sundry find his house is pretty understandable, all things considered.

The Foursquare thing has been a more recent experience, and I confess that it was fun while I just checked into places around town. Eventually this became rather dull and repetitive and constantly logging on to the local 3G network with my phone was costing me money that I simply don't have. This problem is possibly greater for New Zealand users - here the Wi-Fi is pretty shite (not public at all, and not well established in most cafes etc), and I feel as thought the effectiveness of the service relies on the availability of free Wi-Fi networks (am happy to be proved wrong though).

New Zealand fails at Foursquare in another way too - that is, that as the population is fairly limited, there just isn't enough people to make playing Foursquare interesting or worthwhile except for a fairly short period of time. I guess it would be cool if you could find out that your bestie was in the coffee shop down the road and surprise them, but I didn't really know the people on my Foursquare radar that well. At any rate, I wouldn't surprise them with cat ears or cake. And maybe it's creepy to stalk people that way and follow them about? It will be interesting to see the wider implications of FB's adoption of location services as I think this is kind of likely to happen through that. Imagine all those people you've been avoiding in a low level way since high school finding you and coffeeshop-bombing your pre-caffeinated mornings? GROSS.

Finally, I'd like to imagine that I was tarred with the brush of the early adopter. People who don't do social networky things would nod and smile when I mentioned my Foursquare obsession - I told the people who ran the local cafe that I was the Mayor there and their response was (and I quote) "*crickets*". I know that in the US various schemes have been set up where Foursquare Mayors are given discounts on meals and free coffees and free entry into the Brooklyn Museum, but I guess that there has to be some sort of critical mass reached before it's worthwhile for a business to offer these kind of promotional whatnots. I think that it's probably a while off here, and for the time being I'm more than happy to withdraw and rejoin later if things develop. Yes, I'm that flakey.

Today, Wednesday, Bullet Points

o yo yo! What the fuck is up, y'all? Nothing much is up here. Today is pay day so Unicorn is all like "DAMN STRAIGHT BITCHES". He does need filling in though, so don't look just yet because you'll be v. disappointed.

I am in a good mood, but I do wish that I was frolicking in the sun and perhaps sipping chilled cider and reading my Agatha Christie biography instead of being a productive member of society. Life's so hard *woe*.

♥ This morning, I bought another Keep Cup for no good reason. It's a large one which is good, and is some kind of reason I guess as my other one is small. But I don't really drink large coffees. Mostly I bought it because I liked the colour. Drat you whimsical nature.

♥ I just want to say that since quitting Facebook I've made more contact with people that I actually want to talk to. Quitting Facebook rules.

♥ Webstock Mini tonight! I think it looks as though it might be a good time. I hope there is cider for me to drink.

♥ Social Media Club Wellington is hosting a "Social Media and the Media" talk next Monday. I'm going! It could be interesting. It's at Betty's where I previously drank this weird creamy warm cocktail thing and became quite drunk. Also there were lots of suits there that night and I remember wondering why on earth my little brother had recommended that I go there.

♥ The lovely Megan of Craft is the New Black is proposing a meetup of Wellington blogger feministy (rhymes with yeasty) types. I'm very excited about the prospect of this.

♥ I had this dream last night about getting tattoos on the palms of my hands. In purple sparkle paint. I woke up incredibly relieved that it was a dream because OMG so tacky. Also, tattoos on the palms of the hands? Is this even possible?

♥ I'm super keen on yoga this week. I say "this week" advisedly, because my enthusiasm has a horrible habit of suddenly waning and I don't want to jinx myself too much. This morning I managed to convince myself that my stomach muscles had become TAUT after a week's worth of commitment. Instant toning!

♥ I wanted to clarify my Monday post - I don't normally bitch about flatmates here so I think my point might have dissolved a little. I'm so so so not a "Battle of the Sexes" person. Mostly I thought it was hilair that I'd washed James' spores down the sink. Most people don't get to say this particular phrase, and once I'd got over the anxiety I'd created for myself I must say I rather enjoyed the faux pas-ness of the situation. I am like Lizzie, who famously enjoys other people's faux pas. And I like to share.

So, in conclusion, I don't think that his actions really characterise guys' attitudes and my actions characterise girls' - it was just A Thing That Happened. Consider this blog a "Battle of the Sexes" free zone!

But thanks for the spore anger, y'all. I found it very insporing.

♥ I ate the best damn baguette sandwich just then with camembert and salami and cos. And now I shall eat a banana. Things are pretty good right now.

Moments of Sunshiney Inspiration

Sunshine, I think, is my other boyfriend. On Monday I went for a long walk in the sun, and I felt enthused and inspired for the first time in ages. It was a wonderful feeling.

What did I feel inspired about? Mostly I felt inspired about my summer wardrobe. The sunshine made me think sunshiney things about dressing in pretty dresses and cardigans. Big plans for the summer wardrobe now include sewing some tunic-style tee shirts (I'm going to cut them off a bunch of 80s tee shirts I picked up in various op shops) and knitting a "That Girl" cardigan in black sparkly cotton. Also, I'd like to sew some more super Ultra Minis in weave (as oppose to stretch-knit) fabrics.

I made a lovely blouse in the weekend from some op shop voile and some vintage crochet lace I've had forever. I'm planning to make another with some linen voile floral fabric that's in my now overflowing stash container at home, but before I can start I'll need more lace trim. Such a hardship shopping for lace trim.

Two things I am undecided about: sheer stockings and clogs. To clarify: I've kind of developed a crush on the idea of clogs, but I'm not sure where the crush came from and if it's misguided. Bex has already shared her opinion (which is, succinctly: "No") but my mind keeps wandering back... specifically I am interested in these clogs via Trade Me. I think I'd like a red and a brown pair. What do you think - am I seriously misguided here? I need help.

Also: the sheer stockings. What do we think of white sheer stockings? With shorts? And boots, but probably NOT the clogs. Probably.

I've never been inside the caravan store called The Princess's Bedroom, but I was stoked to see that there is a cute little food caravan that's opened up next door. I think I shall head there for a sausage sizzle sometime soon.

I also like the Kreuzberg Summer Cafe, which is at the other end of Cuba Street. Roll on summer, and eating outside in front of cute little temporary stores!

On Sunday night I had a conversation with my flatmate where I offered Sensible Advice about money (specifically - about using a credit card to pay for travel). I am notoriously much better at giving advice than I am at taking it, so I'm trying to do a better job of listening to myself when I'm telling other people what to do with their lives.

I am proud of a couple of things I said. The first was "If you are prepared to get yourself in debt and spend years paying it off, then you should also be prepared to save the same amount of money". The second was "If you have to get yourself in debt to do it then it's not really an opportunity."

I am ready to follow both of those pieces of advice, and Oh So Ready to be debt free.

Last bit: I am getting myself a Filofax. This is a direct result of reading two other blogger's peans to their Filofaxes and my slight exasperation with my poorly chosen diary for this year. My flatmate's response was "Will you get some shoulder pads to go with it?" but I laugh (ha! ha!) because I have big plans to use some blue check Swandri fabric and a cute 70s felt transfer that Liz gave me years ago to give the Filofax some serious pizzaz.  I'm also quite in love with the idea of my increasingly epic organisation.

Some shameless Richter City promotion

If you are in Wellington you should totes come to our first bout of the season which will be on 24th July at the TSB Bank Arena. More deets (including where to get tickets) on the RCRD website.

A Picture A Day: Week One

    

Musings

Hello my darlings, I hope that today finds you happy and wealthy and wise. I’m feeling two of those at least, and wealthy in other things besides money (say, pour example, debt). It’s Tuesday today, which usually means that I’ve overcome my Monday resolutions to work harder and have resettled myself into the kind of pace I work at most of the week which is principally: work/look something up on the internet/become distracted/down load photographs/blog/remember I’m at work/work/receive email from friend/send email to friend/look something up on the internet/become distracted and so on ad nauseum.

The good news tho’ is that I’ve found a new job! I don’t start for a couple of weeks but I will be based in town which is very exciting for me. I’ve missed working in the city and in Wellington in particular, namely; meeting my friends for excellent coffee and lunches and breakfasts, and picking up bits that I need from around and about. Being able to commit to social engagements that start at 6pm or before. Visiting galleries at lunch time. Running into people I haven’t seen in forever.

I should also stress that the job itself is pretty awesome and is much closer to what I imagine is my ideal job – history and heritage and New Zealand culture and the internets. It makes me extremely happy – nay, I feel contentment – knowing that I have this job to look forward to.

♥♥♥

More changes: it’s looking for sure that I’m going to be moving at the end of March. I’ve spent most of the last few days fantasising about how I will decorate my new room – I’m still feeling the urge to paint everything white that isn’t already wood, but I also want to make a patchwork duvet cover with some of my fabric stash, and hang tiny stuffed birds from the ceiling, and make my fairy lights into a canopy so I feel like a princess while I’m lying in bed. I’m moving into the Boy’s flat but I will have my own space, and after living in my aerie tree house room for so long I’m ready for a room change. I do love parts of my tree house room tho and I shall miss it terribly. I wish I could move it with me.

I’ve been collecting images of rooms and things that have enthused me and have two albums, one on Flickr and one on Picasa.

♥♥♥

My Boy is leaving for some exotic trips this Friday – a week in Auckland for work (not so exotique) and then a month in Nepal; traipsing the mountains, wearing hand made knitwear, drinking yak butter tea, standing on rocks with his hands on his hips and surveying the landscape, and growing a beard like a crazy mountain man.

While he’s having a fun holiday I thought I might repeat my experiment from last year while he was in India – this was taking a photograph a day while he was travelling. I’ll begin on Friday for me but I’ll put up the photographs together once a week. It’s something to do to distract me from sexual frustration I guess.

♥♥♥

In other blog news, I am moving slowly through my CALH round up. Did I say slowly? I meant at a glacial pace. You could use me as an evolutionary measuring stick at present.

I saw Megan on the bus yesterday and we talked about how lazy blogging made one about one’s writing, never drafting or reading over anything and never really having a point, meandering endlessly and finishing sentences with ellipses instead of coming to any kind of conclusion… My new diary has been awesome for facilitating my writing. It’s fantastic to be liberated from the computer keyboard – I think differently when writing in different mediums and process of transcribing from handwriting to blog entry is effective in terms of editing closely.

I like writing. I forget that.

♥♥♥

Finally, I am totally in love with this woman at the moment. She makes every day a good day. I suggest that you download her and stick her on your desktop for maximum AWESOME.

VIA

This weekend in Pictures

SATURDAY: Woke up late at the Boy's place and watched Breakfast at Tiffany's, finished knitting a sock and luxuriated. Mm, luxury.

Then a coffee at Mojo on Cambridge Terrace. They've changed their Spanakopita recipe and it SUCKS in comparison to how good their old one was. Boo! Wrong pastry BOO! I saw the girl who was my favourite barista until she left Mojo Summit.

At home I pulled a bunch of yarn from my New Zealand Yarn Sampler box and made two bracelets and started a bookmark (finished the bookmark Saturday morning).

Better shots of the bracelet that I knitted from my handspun VIntage Purls merino

SUNDAY: More knitting. I made this very pretty sleep mask and lined it with some floral cotton I picked up at an op shop at the end of last year. PRETTY! I now I can feel like Audrey Hepburn while I'm luxuriating in bed.

Later the lovely Boy came over for Valentine's Day dinner. I made delicious awesome Spanakopita from this recipe on Recipezaar.

This Weekend in Pictures

  

Saturday: Bella and affogato and sock knitting in the sunshine at Caffe Eis by the Frank Kitts Lagoon. Birthday drinks for Kate later in the evening.

Sunday: My mum, and then Bex and gin and hiding from the rain at Duke Carvell's.

Weather, the Achievement List, and some shameless trawling for favours

No sign of the weather improving, but I’m back on the bicycle nonetheless. I know it’s the most boring thing in the world to write but – THE WEATHER SUCKS THIS SUMMER. The last summer we had weather this bad was the summer that I was working at a clothing store called Plush (I think it was 2003?). I had the door closed and the heater on for the whole Christmas/New Year/summer period. I was the only person working there and it was hellishly boring and dull and I cleaned the floors/mirrors and rearranged the store about a thousand times. I think one day I counted just three people through the door – and it was so cold.

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My achievement list that I posted at the end of last year has been trundling along nicely; tickets and rides secured for my trip to Bulls for Camp A Low Hum. I’m very excited about it. The paying off my credit card goal is a struggle, but I think that I can make some headway pretty soon. Budgeting and paying off debts is hard work – BUT I’ve made the decision to sell off a bunch of clothes and books and I’m hoping that will give me a bit more money to play with. At the moment there are 7-8 plastic bags of books sitting by the front door and waiting to be dispatched to Arty Bee’s bookshop. Tonight I’m planning to go through my clothes, to be brutal, and add to the two bags of clothes that I sorted before the Pretty Pretty Pretty clothing swap and the last Big Shwop (I didn't go to either - a couple of bad days). I’m planning to take most of these delicious garments to the Recycle Boutique and to drop off the rest to some kind of op shop. Lovely workmate Katherine has offered to drive me around on Sunday morning. How lovely is she? So lovely. Also I am going to sell my knitting machine that I desperately hold on to and have never, ever used. Or indeed, ever taken out of the box. And I think I’m going to sell the few Royal Doulton Bamboo pattern plates that I started collecting before the Poverty really settled in. I’m going to sell the whole lot goddamn lot through Trade Me and I’ll post the link here. TAKE IT AWAY.

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Ravelry is my new obsession and where I’ve been spending all my spare internet time. I listed my Ravelry homepage in the side banner --> (and you can totally follow me. Please do). I’ve also just discovered Formspring and am whoring myself big time with it. You can ask me questions that I like to answer at http://formspring.me/gingertonyx, or use the widget direct from this page. It's surprisingly awesome fun! (Moments after writing this I think I inadvertently offended someone by being a dork in an anonymous question. Oops! Anonymity is a burden verily. Dorkness may come off as asshatness).

First Christmassy Weekend of 2009

bryna, jo, bex, me

Despite some impressive gale force winds, I managed to experience some sunshine this weekend and had my first Christmassy weekend of this December – strawberries and mussels and drinking too many bubbly things in the sunshine! Saturday I woke at the Boy’s and went out craft shopping for the last bits and pieces I needed to finish some presents I’ve been making (glass eyes and florist wire). While I was shopping I put down the tiny key that locks the back wheel of my bicycle and lost the key. I then had to leave my bike on Marion Street and travel home on the bus, pick up my spare set of keys, change my clothes, tidy my room and otherwise ready myself for Bryna’s family Christmas party in the evening, to which I would have to travel via the Marion Street Craft Store, where I would jump on my bicycle and ride it up to Roseneath. Did I mention how much I hate missioning about in the weekends? And also how it always ends up happening. This is a case in point as I was well organised until I lost the tiny key and my organisation went BLAM KAPUT DEAD. “UP to Roseneath” is no kind of throwaway term. Bryna assumed I was walking, gave me the “via Grass Street” directions and as I didn’t correct her I ended up carrying my bicycle (which weighs 20kg+) up an almost vertical zig zag ramp and stair walkway. There were many stairs. I didn’t count them all because I was too busy trying not to die of asphyxiation and burning muscle pain. The party itself was lovely, and although I was a bit intimidated by the glut of small baby-type people at the beginning of the evening, I found that a litre of Boysencider and four glasses of fizzy wine helped me to over come this. Peter made a Belgian feast and fed us deep fry and mayonnaise and I ate too much smoked salmon. Also, the deck was quite sheltered and we were able to enjoy some sunshine! I LOVE SUNSHINE. Summer begins very slowly in Wellington, so any chance to lounge around in beautiful Vitamin D makes me very happy. I rode (rather wobbly it must be said) from Bryna’s to the Boy’s place where his flatmate Dave was having a combined “not-Birthday” and “not-Christmas” party. Thus, it was not especially festive, but I did see Bea and Henry who I haven’t seen for ages and was very, very happy to see (there were more friendly lovely types there, but it was Bea and Henry that made me squee rapturously). Parties filled with people I haven’t seen for weeks always make me think of summer and Christmas and I feel about 50% more festive! I suspect this is due to end-of-University-people-coming-back-to-the-City associations. On Sunday I had another full day, first meeting Mon for market shopping and coffee and gossip, and then attending the Inaugural Spinsters’ Knitting Club Craftinoon Tea. The wind was still gale force but the sunshine was around (at least, I managed to convince myself I was seeing sunshine while I was being blown about. It could have been an optical illusion). After wandering about Chaffers Market, Mon and I went to Sweet Mother’s Kitchen where I ate a pulled pork po boy sandwich. By the way - OH MY GOD I CANNOT GET ENOUGH OF THOSE THINGS. They Taste So Good. The Craftinoon Tea was good fun, I drank many Bellini, finished some Christmas present projects and taught some (very) basic crochet skills to Megan. Bryna invited us to her apartment as the weather was due to be so awful (nixing outdoor crafting plans) and it was so sweet of her – especially as she seemed quite tired and hung over. She still managed to be a gracious host while preventing her small son from dropping buttons into glasses of gin and bashing everything in sight with bamboo knitting needles. That’s some kind of talent and I am infinitely impressed. This week is my last week of work before Christmas and I still have a bunch of Christmas presents to muddle through as well as attending the pre-Christmas festivities to which I’ve committed myself. It’s beginning to look as though it might be a busy one – thought I’d try out busyness for a change and see what it feels like.