Heygais! I moved house!

I finally decided to be a grown up and moved out of my Dad's house and into a flat right above campus, YAY!
I have done a number of grown up and... not so grown up things since I moved in.
First night, got really drunk and made a deal with flat mate that if he paid for pizza I would buy an equivalent amount of candy. We came back with $35 worth of candy...

BOUGHT A TURTLE! Hell yes. I'm all responsible and shit now. Her name is Squirtles

Started working for Greenpeace.

Stopped working for Greenpeace 3 weeks later. :/

Did grocery shopping by myself.

Went to the local bulk buy store to buy bulk groceries cos it's cheaper.
Came away from the bulk store with bulk candy.

Cried like a baby at Harry Potter 7 part 1 when Dobby died.

Went on a date! =O inoryt.

Hung out in my underwear for a whole day just cos I was too lazy to get dressed.

That's the highlights of my flatting life so far haha.
21 Chapters is still a work in progress. This shit's hard yo.

21 Chapters of Childhood, Chapter four.

When I was younger I had almost no depth perception. This was caused by my optic nerve being under developed at birth. This also resulted in some pretty hilarious accidents.

I would bump into door frames while walking through through doorways

I would try to grab things that were really far away

But possibly the most embarrassing and memorable of these is the day I tried to ride my bike through cement power pole.

I was so excited that I was riding my bike by myself with no freaking trainer wheels!!!

My Dad took my brothers and I out for a bike ride. He used the excuse that it would be fun but I think he just wanted to get us out of the house so we'd stop driving him crazy.

I hadn't quite mastered the straight line and kept looking backwards at the squiggly lines my tires made when I rode over the grass.

Of course no-one had yet informed me of the dangers of looking backwards while biking forwards.
As you can probably guess, I was about to learn first hand the true value of looking where you're going.

Dad called out to me and I turned around to look at him, as I did I noticed I was about to hit a power pole. I didn't have time to go around. Then I noticed it was one of the pole with the hole in the middle and suddenly it dawned on me, I could go THROUGH THE POLE!

It all seemed perfectly logical until my tire went through the gap.

I suddenly noticed my handle bars were much wider than the gap in the cement power pole. Unfortunately I realised this about a millisecond before the handle bars hit said cement power pole so of course I had no time to stop or turn away, merely stare in horror as the painful outcome of my foolish assumptions unfolded before me.

My handle bars hit the sides of the cement power pole, my bike lurched forward and I was propelled face first into the pole. Much to the delight of my brothers and the shame of myself.

Reemerging from the depths of Time

Wow.

So it's been quite awhile.

I must admit I've had several issues getting back into this.

I originally stopped writing because I became severely depressed when I discovered my cat Frei was not only dead that also, a) he had been poisoned and b) Dad found him,buried him and then didn't end up telling me for a whole week. I kind of spun off in this awful cycle of "I should've been there for him and I wasn't.It's my fault he's dead and if I can't even take care of a cat how can I expect to take care of anything else"

I was starting to pull myself out of this funk when I was asked to house sit for some church friends. A couple of days after I arrived their rat started to look really sick. I managed to contact them and they told me he was dying and the only thing to do was sit and wait for him to pass away. This ended up in a "I am the Angel of Pet Death, nothing can survive my presence" thought pattern which really just deepened the depression. 

After the rat was dead I realised that maybe this was a good thing, it gave me the time to mourn that I didn't have with Frei.

That kind of pulled me out of my funk. But by that stage I didn't have the courage to front up to you guys and admit how slack I'd been. 

So now it's been over a month since my last post, I've done almost no work on 21 Chapters of Childhood and it's all just kind of gone poo.

However. The end of the year is going to sort of be a new start, I'm moving out of home into a flat near Uni and I'm working on plenty of costumes and it's all sort of looking up from here.

Everything should be sort of back on schedule from here.

I'm still alive!!!

Hey guys just thought I'd make a post to say hey, I'm still alive! honest!

It's been insanely busy with trying to organise my party and German Play and essays and exam preparatons (sort of) and work.

I have been working on some awesome stuff to continue the "21 Chapters of Childhood" saga but I wanna make sure I flesh them out fully with proper artwork before I post them so you have decent stuff to read.

Here's a pic of my self that I cartoon-ified of me as Asuka Langley Soryhu (or Shikinimari, if you're watching 2.0) just to bribe you for patience.

Also, I have glasses! I got them on Tuesday. Here's a pic of me wearing them that I took just now and uploaded, it's 250 am. So be gentle with your judgement. 

Until next time!

21 Chapters of Childhood, Chapter three.

Children are cruel.
Especially when you are extremely short, have frizzy, curly brown hair and serious social ineptitude.

My first day of school was traumatic. This is fairly evident in the fact I still vividly remember it.

My primary school was made up of several buildings placed in two rows to kinda look like a giant equals sign. Each building had two classrooms back to back and it's own toilet block

So I arrive on my first day and my Mum takes me to my classroom to meet the teacher.

Then something awful happens, while I'm utterly bewildered by these strange, feral creatures my Mum calls "other children" the crafty tart sneaks out and ABANDONS ME!!!

                               

                               

I was very quickly shaken out of this clearly terrified state by the teacher turning to me and demanding I "Stop being such a baby!" I very rapidly became a pro at disguising fear among elders. 

The next onslaught came at lunch time when I no longer had the teacher to act as a buffer and security blanket between my self and The Others.

It was days before I was able to work out some sort of rudimentary communication system with these strange beings. I couldn't understand a word they were saying except that it seemed to be a jarbled mix of English words but at 10 times the normal speed.

                               

But back to my first day. The key thing that was missed out on my first day was a tour of the school and an explanation of where things were.
One thing I most definitely had not expected was multiple options when it came to toilet choice. Most homes have one kind of toilet and usually only toilet one per room.
This wasn't helped by the fact that the toilets, while separated into Male and Female, did not having signs on the door indicating which was which.

When lunch time came it was followed swiftly by the call of nature and I sought out the place to do my deed.
I found what appeared to be the communal bathroom and went in.
On my way I noticed that the toilet was in a stall and the wall by the door was covered entirely in shiny metal which had a trickle of water running down the center.

I though there must be a broken pipe or something.
I went into the stall, made my sacrifice to the tinkle fairy, washed my hands in the sink and walked outside where I was met by a circle of The Others, all giggling and staring at me.

The one wearing purple seemed to be their leader.
She pointed an accusatory finger and me and yelled amidst a fit of giggles "She went in the boys toilets! She did!Are you boy or a girl!That's the BOYS toilet!"
"N...no...it's... it's boys and girls..." Foolproof defense Jepha, foolproof.
Despite my excellent defense the taunting continued.
"The new girl goes to the toilet in the boys toilet!What a weirdo!"

At this point I start to cry, just a little (I lie, I was bawling my eyes out.But wouldn't you?)
"No... see...that part is for boys *points to shiny wall dripping water* and the other one's for girls..."
Another solid defense from future Wonder-Lawer, Jepha.

Needless to say the horrendous taunting continued until lunchtime ended and I was once again safe under the watchful eye of the teacher until the end of the day or they forgot about the whole thing, whichever came first.
At the end of the day I decided was NOT fond of  this whole school thing.

21 Chapters of Childhood, Chapter two.

When I was 12 years old my Mum had her first baby with her new partner. She's now 8 and drew a picture for you all. This is Karlia's picture that she drew by herself on MS Paint with no help from me cos she's THAT awesome!

Sorry that today was such a short post but I had my 21st family party to attend and I have a longer post coming for you tomorrow promise. It's about my first day at school.
Hope you like Karlia's Picture!
Here's a picture of the two of us I took just now, we're all snuggled up in bed listening to the rain outside! Cosy!

21 Chapters of Childhood, Chapter one.

So tomorrow is my 21st birthday and I figured there must be some sort of way to mark such a momentous occasion on such a public forum as teh blogosphere.
The answer is apparently 21 short stories from my life.
There is no promise of any sort of linear time line to these stories despite the fact that goes against my blog title.
The idea came to me at about 3 on Tuesday morning so it may turn out to be an entirely horrible idea and I withhold the decision to pull the plug on this at any stage.

 ON WITH THE SHOW!!!

When I was younger, I wasn't all that fond of clothing. Now, I'm not talking about when I was 1 or 2, I'm talking about when I was 5 or 6.
I was Pedobear's dream come true.
The first chance I got I would discard every item of clothing my parents had forced upon me and would then take off at lightning speed, or as fast as my chubby little legs could take me, it's all relative.
These actions were not reserved for in the home either. In fact my favourite place to display my nudist tendencies was my Fathers workplace, Street Electrical.

One particular day, Dad was unable to find anyone to take care of my brothers and I, so he had to take us to work with him. This also happened to be the day a rather large client was coming in to take a look at the workshop and potentially make a rather large, expensive order.

As soon as Dad took his eyes off me for a second I was naked and off like a shot.

A few minutes later Dad caught me and began the process of putting all my clothes back on despite my protesting. He was about half way done when we heard a sudden crash form the back of the van were Dad had left the boys sleeping in their car seats, figuring that was the place the could get into the least trouble.

Within the space of fifteen seconds it had gone from relatively calm to all hell breaking loose.

My brothers had managed to pull a tray of nuts and bolts out of Dad's storage rack on the side of the van, spilling them everywhere.

I was once again running joyously naked and free throughout the shop and Dad was standing there not knowing where to even START trying to put it all back together.

This is where the boss walks in.

Imagine you're the boss of an electrical supplies company, bringing in a large client who plans to make a very expensive order for good and services from your establishment.

You're showing him around the place to prove his needs are in capable hands.

Then you walk in on this: (click to zoom in)

Luckily the client himself had young kids who he'd had to take to work so e completely understood and laughed about it with Dad afterwards.

However Dad didn't take us to work with him again for many,many years.

This blog post took me way too long to write.

Was trying to think of a clever segue/entry to this story but screw it let's just go with a cold opening.

When I was in high school we had a totally awesome pot belly wet back fire place. For those of you who aren't familiar with fireplace design, it's a big black box that looks something like this:

It has a door on the front for loading wood and a little round hatch in that door to leave open if it's dying down a bit to let more oxygen in.

Once Dad showed my brothers and I how to load it properly,we were allowed to tend to the fire ourselves.
Dad made the mistake of keeping a fully loaded squirt bottle full of methylated spirits next to the fire and teaching us the equation; meths+fire=awesome! Which is true but potentially extremely dangerous to teach to your 16 year old daughter who is also a budding pyromaniac.

One night I was home alone as Dad and my brothers were away for a week at a school camp.
It's pouring down outside and pretty cold so I start loading the fire, soak everything in meths then light it and smile broadly at the satisfying "whoooosh!" sound.
After awhile the fire starts to die down a bit so I open up the door to put more wood in but get slightly distracted by the pretty dancing flames, I'm talking moth to a flame here.

I thought I should be kind to my friend the fire and give it a little extra help. By help I mean I had a little game of "Let's see how big a controlled burst I can get by strategically spraying meths on different parts of the fire".

You may have noticed by the above pic that I was wearing my lovely, snuggly, flannel dressing gown at the time. I should also mention how amazingly flammable flannel is. Back to the story.

Naturally the several sudden spurs (heh) of flames causes a few embers to escape from the safe confines of the fire box. This goes completely unnoticed by myself until one lands on the sleeve of my dressing gown.

This is where all hell breaks loose.

I notice my dressing gown has suddenly become extremely hot and developed the ability to glow, this is quite unusual for a dressing gown.
I look down to see my sleeve has become wonderfully adept at setting itself alight and my first instinct is "Cover the ember so it cuts off the oxygen and dies" unfortunately my choice of flame cover was poor in that I used my other hand to try and pat it out. My hand naturally gets quite painful because it is being burned by the ember so I remove it which then means there is no longer anything stopping oxygen getting to the ember and my dressing gown is even more on fire now.

The next few moments were a furious blur of the following thoughts:
"holy crap my arm is on fire!"
"Damn it my hand freaking hurts!"
"Oh shit how do I get to some water without setting everything else on fire as I run past?!"
"Shit! The fireplace door is open!"
"I'm still on fire!"

If someone had looked in the window at that point it may have looked something like this:

I don't remember how I eventually put it out, all I know is I had a wicked burn on my palm and was hella carefully around the meths from that point onwards.

7.1 Magnitude Earthquake hits New Zealand South Island.

This morning sometime after 3AM a giant earthquake hit the South Island and my word, those things are insanely destructive. Here's a before and after of Christchurch's Repertory Theatre.

The writing saying Before and After is a lot smaller than I thought it would be...
Here's a link showing how extensive the damage is http://www.crashbang.co.nz/quake040910/index.html

In places the road has actually split and lifted in two different directions. There's a picture in the above link that portrays Christchurch youth perfectly, a group of drunken boys standing over a gap in the road. Oi Vey.

My 94 year old Great Grandmother lives in a town just south of Chch so I thought I'll be a good granddaughter and call her to make sure she's ok.
One problem here.
I couldn't find her phone number anywhere.

You would think by now that there would be online phone directories which I could search for numbers outside my region? Nope. Business directories sure but residential?Nada.

I found Dad who was finally able to find her number in his cellphone.
Call her to discover she's fine, she was awake when the quake hit so was able to stay in bed and not be in the way of falling objects.

So Nana's fine haha my cousin called her at 5AM to make sure she was ok. My aunt was meant to fly to Sydney this morning but all flights have been grounded so no air hostessing for her today.

The good thing in all of this is that, so far, there have been no fatalities and only two people have been admitted to hospital with serious injuries. In a city of 30,000 people that's pretty good figures.

Dad poked his head in while I was on the phone to Nana and cheerily informed us we're next.

The length of New Zealand runs along a massive, highly active fault line and so earthquakes are nothing strange but a normal earthquake would be around 4 on the Richter Scale so 7.1 is huge.

The Earthquake Commision keep telling us "the big one" is coming. After this large one in Chch we can expect it to now hit Wellington because Wellington is the city which sits most on the fault line, does that make sense? Other cities aren't on the fault line as much as we are, that's what I mean.
Chch is lucky because most of it is very flat but Wellington is built almost entirely on hill sides and all of those hills as well as our main highway are directly on top of the fault line.
So basically if "the big one" hits, we're screwed haha

This post is more informative than humourous but these are pretty serious concerns

home alone horror movies are fun.

Kinda.
Depending on the type of person you are really. I like them as long as they aren't the "there's a creepy slasher guy who has decided he's going to attack, torture and kill everyone in the 38th house on your street,oh shit, that's your house" type film. Certain types of supernatural films get me too. Not Paranormal Activity cos that was just crap but films like that.

I just watched Dark Water which has Jennifer Connolly as a woman going through a messy post-divorce child custody battle with her husband and moves into an apartment building which is haunted by the spirit of a little girl who died by falling into a water tank.It's very depressing and it's meant to be more of an intellectual "make you think about the human mind" film but doesn't quite meet the mark though it makes a decent attempt.

Dark Water is based off an Asian horror novel and I can imagine the original would've been a lot better as with the Grudge and the Ring etc.

I'm also watching it home alone at 2:09AM and if it were a better film I think I would be shitting myself right now. But this is not the type of film to leave me wanting to run to my friends house in case the same plot suddenly takes place in my house.

The few sane readers I have are currently asking "why the hell are you up at 2:09 in the morning watching horror movies home alone?"

Well partially because I'm making the most of my Dad and brother being up at a hockey tournament and the fact I'm still on mid-term break, that explains the home alone part. 

Also I'm still desperately hoping that my cat, Frei, will come home and as I never know when that will be, I am terrified to go to bed or leave the house in case he comes home and I'm not here so he leaves again.

I keep hearing the floor creak in the corner of the room behind the fridge and automatically my brain associates that with the noise Frei makes when he's under the house coming in through the old hot water cupboard. 

But of course then I remember that the noise is coming fro the wrong end of the room and the no, it's not Frei coming home and I'm just hearing things.Again.

Those of you old enough to have your own pets will know why I'm so desperate for him to come home. I don't mean people who have a family pet that was given to them for a birthday or is just considered 'their pet'.

When you get your first pet and you raise them and toilet train them and take them to their first vet visit and you buy them the food and their toys and their collar and watch their personality come through, it's heartbreaking to think of anything happening to them that you can't help them with.

I guess it's the same with kids, you take them to their first day of school or their first sleep over and you wait... and wait... and wait and you're terrified something is going to happen and you just want them to come home.

A 4 year old was in the news last week because he went missing and 6 days later they hadn't found him. Eventually they discovered his body in the river that flowed past the back of the family property.

I can only imagine how awful it must have been for his parents just waiting and every day the not knowing.

By no means am I comparing my missing cat to a 4 year old drowning and being found 8 days later.

However, it is a good example of what I'm going through and I feel I can understand his parent's dilemma a bit bitter.

When you wait day after day and just don't know what's happened it's just awful... awful. You want to go out and look because you feel so helpless sitting at home doing nothing. At the same time there are only so many places you can look and only so many times you can check the same place.

Sometimes the answer IS to sit and wait. That answer isn't always helpful though because you feel like you're not doing enough or there is something you should be doing and if only you knew what it was then maybe that would get them home sooner.

I'm sorry guys, these posts have been slightly down but I am kind of going insane waiting for Frei to come home. 

I promise I'll get something super cheerful and awesome up soon.

In the mean time, check out Allie's latest offering at hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com she currently has a mini comic strip about being careful what you wish for but from a funny new angle. 

Also if you see my cat bring him home damnit!!!

Chris you are WRONG!

So during an epic Facebook conversation in an attempt to hide a wall post from someone's mother by filling up our friend's wall with so many other wall posts it disappeared from the main page thus stopping her from stumbling onto it when she logged in and getting mad at said friend for posting such a thing on Facebook *deep breath* I was told I could not have my cookie and eat it to.

I begged to differ.

The following video is the result of all this commotion combined with the fact I am up at 1:48 am because I can't sleep knowing my poor cat-baby is still lost somewhere in the pouring rain suffering from poisoning.

My voice amuses me. Yes I am kiwi hence the accent, if you can't understand me I will email you a word by word transcript so as to achieve full viewing pleasure.

I apologize in advance ladies if your men suddenly decide to leave you because they are so over come by my sexy cookie eating face. Men, the same apology applies.

Thank you and goodnight/morning

Fanta+chocolate ice cream = spider/float?

Yeah I know it's weird but I tried it and hey it wasn't that bad.
I needed something to cheer me up.
My cat has been missing since Saturday morning and it's now Monday afternoon.That's two whole days.
I looked in the old dog house because he started sleeping in there since our dog died and found the sleeping bag had been half pulled out and there was this awful mess inside... the kind of mess a cat leaves after being poisoned.

So I'm kind of terrified for the life of my fur child. It doesn't look good.

Half of me thinks maybe he's been caught by the Samoans next door and now they're going to eat him.
The family moved in a few months ago and within a week there were about 20 people who all seemed to be living in the house. This is a 3 bedroom house. Then, once the house was full, they started putting people in the garage. Now they also have a dog who just had 4 puppies. One of the puppies went missing and they claim it was stolen. But when you let them wander all over the place without collars or supervision and don't put a gate on your property it's not exactly a huge mystery as to what could've happened. My cat has always been terrified of them, since they moved in he's started jumping at his own shadow.

The other half of me thinks he's been locked in my other neighbour's garage or trapped in her crazy hoarder lady house. She hates cats and used to have a couple dozen birds in cages in her garage which naturally Frei was fascinated with. He used to go over and watch them, he'd never try to hurt them cos he's terrified of birds, but try telling that to a lady who spends all her time talking to birds. This same lady has to sleep on the couch in her lounge because all three bedrooms in her house are so full of crap that she can no longer get into them. She can't cook anymore because her kitchen is so full of crap that it covers the oven and the table and her benches. She wont answer the door to anyone because 1)she doesn't want people to see the inside of her house and 2) she's convinced she'll be robbed/stabbed/something else horrid if she opens the door to a stranger. These facts often lead me to question her sanity. Also she looks how you would expect and insane person to look.

Nana went through a phase of trying to be the good Samaritan and help Margaret but it had no effect other than making our lounge smell like Margaret. Apparently she saw two ladies go up to Margaret's door the other day. Nana says she's been having strokes.

So either my cat is being eaten by big brown foreigners who treat their on pets like crap, which leaves little hope for anyone else's or he's been trapped/poisoned by a crazy bird loving hoarder lady who could be dead from a stroke in her own house and no-one would be able to find her because of all the junk she hoards. That last sentence may sound harsh but it's true.

I'll keep you guys updated and hope that I find him.

Here's a photo of my fur baby so y'all can see just why I miss him, look at that gorgeous face.

I learned how to crash start a car!

Ok normally when you learn to drive your parents teach you things like how to change a tire and how to measure/change the oil.

 One thing my Dad missed out was how to crash start a car should I find myself with a dead battery. Admittedly I drive an automatic so not necessarily the most important thing to know BUT still helpful.
                                                                                                                          
 Last night however, I got a crash course in crash starting a car.

I went out for a drive last night with my friend Jason. We went to The Warehouse cos I needed some cheap random items to finish my Zydrate gun (http://www.cosplay.com/photo/1961223/).
At the check out I decided I was suddenly starving so we went to our favourite fish ad chip shop then parked up on the foreshore to devour our meal.

 For those of you unfamiliar with Wellington, NZ here's the kind of view you get from Petone Foreshore aka The Esplanade http://www.flickr.com/photos/anakiwa_forever/513214668/ that's just one shot.                                            
                                            
 So we were sitting listening to Pendulum enjoying our feast of chips and fanta and chatting about anything that came to mind, as you do at 9 o'clock on a Thursday night.                                                                                                                                                                                                                
It started getting late and Jason had work in the morning so we decided it was home time.               
Jason turned the key to start the car but nothing happened.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  
 At first I thought he was joking round "I'll take you home now *fakes starting car* or will I?"                  
I was wrong.                                                                                                                                          
                    
Jason "Guess what?"                                                                                                                              
Me "Uh, you're hungry?"                                                                                                                    
Jason "I think I have a flat battery"                                                                                                          
Me "You do?But wait, how is the radio still going?" (I'm a girl and don't understand much about cars)
Jason then turns off all the electronics and gives the key another hopeful turn.                                       
Lucy (the car) gives a very sad sounding "hu-plurgh" sort of noise which translates to "I love you guys and I'm trying really hard but I don't think we're going anywhere right now"

Jason then pulls out his wallet and grabs hish AA card to call Roadside Assistance to get them to give us a jump start.

What followed was about half an hour of Jason proving his identity with a stupid amount of security questions then us trying very hard to find some sort of landmark to identify whereabouts on the very large stretch of road we were.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   
Phone Operator "Can you give me your full name and date of birth please"
                         "Ok now you home phone number?"                                                                             
                         "Cool and your home address?"                                                                                    
                         "Now your cell phone number?"                                                                                    
                         "What make is the car?"                                                                                              
                         "And the licence plate of your car?"                                                                            
                         "And whereabouts are you?"                                                                                  
Jason "We're on Petone Esplanade"                                                                                                      
P.O "Which end?"                                                                                                                                   
Jason "Uh.. the east end..."                                                                                                                    
P.O " Are you near the traffic lights?"                                                                                                    
Jason " No uh... we're just up from... um... I think it's Waione Street? *turns to me* I'm just going for a walk"
                                                                                        
He disappears for awhile to try and find some sort of thing to identify our exact location and after a few minutes comes back still on the phone looking highly exasperated                                                                                                                                                                                                             
P.O " Ok so someone will head out to help you, it could be about 20 minutes away, or it culd be up to an hour"                                                                                                                                                
Jason,as patiently as possible "...Thank you...."
                                                                                                                                                
He turns to me with a look I would call devious in any other situation and asks
"Have you ever crash started a car before?"                                                                                                                              
Me "uh... not from the driver's seat?I mean, I helped push the car for Dad once way back..."            
Jason "Wanna learn?"
Me "uhmmm not really but I mean... I don't wanna wait for an hour"
Jason "It's real simple, jump in the driver's seat and I'll teach you"
                                                    
I was aprehensive straight away.Not because of my driving abilities, I'm an excellent driver. But because of the sheer size difference between myself and Jason's 800kg Honda.

Took a couple minutes to move the seat far enough forward for me to be able to reach the pedals even then I had to shimmy right to the front of the seat.
                                                                                                                                                    
Jason "Right, you can reach?"                                                                                                              
Me "Uh... yep!"                                                                                                                                       
Jason "Ok.Here's what you gotta do, put your foot on the clutch"
Me *puts foot on clutch* "Kay"                                                                                                         
Jason "Now, into first."                                                                                                                          
Me "oookay!"                                                                                                                                         
Jason "Now this is the important bit, when I say NOW you take your foot off the clutch then put it straight back on and hit the brakes at the same time, ok?You gotta push the clutch as far as it'll go."
Me "Uh, kay..." *starts pooping myself a little"
Jason "Right, you've got to steer now, take the hand brake off"
                                                                                                                                                                                                                            
So Jason starts pushing the car backwards and I try to steer while very aware that I can't see what's behind me cos Jason's shoulder is blocking the wing mirror and the internal mirror is too high for me to use.
(I'm only just realising how potentially illegal our actions were...)
                                                                                                                                                                                                              
Suddenly Jason yells out "Brakes!"                                                                                                        
So I hit the brakes harder than I meant to, his brakes work much better than mine.                          
Jason leans into the car "You ready?"                                                                                                     
Me "Uh..."
                                                                                                                                            
I didn't have time to answer cos Jason then said "Take her out of gear"                                                
I obeyed and he started pushing forward "On the clutch, into first"                                                        
I obeyed again and waited with my foot on the clutch, adrenaline starting.                                            
Jason yells "Now!"                                                                                                                                     
So I do as he''d instructed and bam Lucy shudders slightly then starts purring away like a kitten.    
Jason leans back in beaming at me "You did it!"                                                                                  
I replied with a massive smile which basically translated to "I didn't screw up!YAY!I am awesome!"

                          
                                                                                                                                                                  
It wasn't til he was back in the driver's seat that Jason pointed out the very expensive looking Subaru that we would've crashed into had I screwed it up and the equally expensive looking vintage car behind us which had cause him to yell out "Brakes!" earlier while reversing.
                                                                                                                                                                          
We called the AA back saying we wouldn't need them anymore and headed to my place.                  
Lucy must've been glad to get started again cos the whole way home she felt like a dream ride.    
We got to mine and Jason pulled up and said " I wont walk you to the door cos if I leave Lucy we may not get her started again"
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  
I got inside excited to share my accomplishments only to find no-one was home. So I told the Facebook world by updating my status instead. And of course by making this blogpost n_n

Job hunting is depressing.

I apologize in advance for this post as it will be a little meh. For I am feeling rather meh.
I've been job hunting for almost 2 months now. I started a few weeks before my contract ended at Access Radio with the hopes I'd go straight from that into another job.
So far I have applied for every single job that looked like it was something I could do for a living.
Only one application has led to an interview and I got a call from them this morning saying "We ad upwards of 80 people and your interview was very impressive *misleading pause* however you were the second choice and we have given the position to someone else. We have some full time positions coming up shortly and do encourage you to apply for those"
Well that's great but remember the part in my application where I said "this part time position is ideal for me as it fits nicely around my current hours of study" ?
Yeah.

Every time I get one of those rejection emails with the professional mock sympathy I just die a little inside.
It starts off this horrible spiral of self confidence despair.
I begin to get all existential and start questioning the validity or point of my life.
What's the point of it all? Work my butt off for someone who doesn't appreciate me to pay for a bunch of stuff other people say I need and have some kids and tell them that they need to do the same thing to be considered normal and then I die.

Then I have a mini wake up call and realise that I hate most customer service people because they are retarded and can't do their job properly and I think heck, if those idiots can do it, so can I!
So I apply for a couple dozen more jobs only to be met with the same email time and again and I begin to doubt in myself once again but this time questioning my ability to do the simplest of tasks. What is it that makes me so unemployable? What vital social skill am I lacking that makes me undesirable in the workforce?
Oh God, what necessary part of my brain did you miss out when putting me together? Why don't you want me to have nice things?

I go through all these steps over and over again and slowly find myself further and further down the unemployment induced spiral until I feel like I should just give up and lie in bed forever because that is so much simpler than trying to function in society.
But I have too much pride to do that. I continue doggedly applying for anything that doesn't require a degree or some form of technical qualification in the hopes someone will find something they decide they can pay me for and I do it all at some horrendously inhumane hour of the morning which shouldn't even exist as far as I'm concerned.

I thought today I could go into costume making for a living, I do pretty well at making costumes for myself. The main issue would be mass producing the damn things.
Also I would be totally crap at running my own business cos I'd constantly forget to pay tax and stuff like that.
There is one tiny ray of hope in all of this, my friend just sent me a link on Facebook to a "Video Blogger" position that is basically all the things I did at Access Radio but in front of a camera instead. I could totally do that!

Fingers, toes,, tongue and eyes crossed.

I'm sorry that last part was a lie, I can't go cross-eyed.
But that, my dears, is a tale for another day!

Letters-Volume 1.

Disclaimer:This is no way an original idea.Letters to objects came from Allie's blog and I'm just too lazy today to come up with something original haha Shadap.

Dear Leg thief,
I have no idea who you are. But next time you decide to steal my legs and run a marathon with them in my sleep how about you stop (hammertime!) and use your own damn legs! I really don't appreciate waking up in the morning feeling like I climbed the Empire State Building stairs in the night. I now can't do anything requiring the use of my thighs as the feel like jelly.Very sore jelly.
Cheers,
Jepha's thigh muscles.

Dear Mr Mallows
Please stop tasting so damn good. You're sugary delciously mushy mallow goodness is going straight to my gut. My pudginess does not need any help existing, it's doing very well on its own.I miss my size 9 jeans (Americans that's about size 4 or 6.)
Thanks.
Jepha's tastebuds and belly.

Dear piece of ribbon thast fell off my bra last night,

How the hell did you manage to stay attached to my boob AFTER I removed my bra and threw it in the washing pile? I shat myself 3 times over when I discovered you because I thought you were a daddy long leg spider!

  

How was I to know you were just a piece of decoration that fell of my skin coloured bra?

You suck.

Seriously.

Dear Blogger,

Why on earth do you assume that I want to type from the center of the page after inserting a picture? Did it not occur to you that perhaps the act of inserting a picture did not mean I wanted to change the alignment of my text?Perhaps this act simply is an attempt to attach a comical picture to break the lines of otherwise unattractive text?

Sort your shit Blogger, sort it.Or else.

Or else the text bunnies will come for you in the night and eat your thumbs so you can't send any txt messages.Then you'll be forever cursed with the inability to txt or open jars or certain doorhandles. You'll never be able to join the cool kids playing pea-knuckle. These consequences can be avoided Blogger, it's your choice.

Yours textually,

Jepha.

Dear Bed,

You are amazing. Don't change a thing.

Actually, strike that, it would be cool if you changed your sheets every couple of weeks. Otherwise you might get smelly. Nobody wants that.

Yours with warm squishy love,

Jepha

Dear Dressing Gown Sleeves,

Why are you so intrusive? I seriously can't take you anywhere. I either have to sacrifice my ability to have warm arms in order to accomplish anything requiring the use of my hands or just sit there like a bloody muppet and not do anything. Neither of these are ideal outcomes. Is it really necessary for you to be so large? I only have very tiny arms so would it not be sensible for there to be versions of you with skinny arms so that you don't envelope everything in your path each time I reach for stuff?

Something to think about.

Dear Readers,

don't hate me for stealing Allie's awesome ideas. I'm on mid term break and have therefor retired my brain until September

Muchos Gracias.

ps here's a picture to bribe your silence

*UPDATE* 

Dear Nana,

Thank you for the awesome cookie you brought home for me and I'm sorry his gum drop nose fell off before I could snap this picture. You are awesome Nana. We like you, you can stay.

I found an awesome teapot!

How freaking neat is that?!

So yeah I went op shopping with my Nana and found this wicked tea pot masquerading as a doughnut haha.

"Why on earth were you going op shopping and why prey tell did you buy a tea pot?" you ask, well!

My 21st is coming up on Sept 9th so I'm having a themed party on the 11th.

The theme is Burlesque Masquerade Wonderland. I wanted something I could go way over the top with but couldn't pick just one of those so combined all three.

The tea pot comes in with the lay out of the thing.

I'm going to have the hall set out like a giant version of the Mad Hatter's Tea Party and have lots of tables and a tea set at each one with cocktails in tea pots for everyone to drink.

Now, I can't have just any tea pots at a Mad Hatter party, can I?

No. I can not.

For it would not be the same, dear readers!

The best part about the Mad Hatter set up is that none of the cups match their saucers and none of the doilies match and there's funny coloured tableclothes and the tea pots are all kinds of crazy shapes and sizes.

Hence my immediate love for the above tea pot which I got from the Te Amonga Hospice store in Petone today for $10 (for you yankees that's about $5 US,Europeans, about 3 pounds)

I spent about $200 on supplies including (but definitely not limited to) tea pots, tea cups, doilies, streamers, crazy string, tableclothes, balloons, flower petals and other sprinkle-able confetti type stuff.

I am yet to confirm a venue for the party. But this is a small hiccup in my otherwise immaculate planning.I figure there's no point having a venue if you don't have decorations! Gosh!

I may even have free music, a friend of mine has recently discovered a love for dj-ing ad is therefor pretty keen to showcase his skills at any possible opourtunity.His one condition is I supply his alcohol. I think I can handle this simple request.

I had a Kate moment today when I discovered someone I had never met had decided to hit "Attedning" on the Facebook event page for my party. Luckily I noticed before it got anymore than one person. 

I'm so glad I added the "If I don't know you, you will not be allowed in" disclaimer to the event description.

Oi Vey.

INSERT RANDOM TANGET HERE!

I ran out of things to say about my party but didn't feel this post was long enough to publish so I figured random tangent time. Afterall, if you're a follower of a blog and there's a noteable gap from one post to the next, you want each post to be fairly significant to a) make up for your lack of new reading material between posts   and   b) give you more stuff to re-read should the worst happen and there be too long a wait between posts.

I've been waiting for Allie to put a new post up on Hyperbole And A Half since the 11th.Agh!

It feels like forever! I finally caught up on all the archive stuff and now I just can't find anything else to fill the void.Nothing quite matches the epicness of Allie's blog. She is a whole different kinda awesome.

She should seriously start paying me for all the shameless plugging I do for her blog....But no, the world is not quite that awesome.

However, the world is awesome enough to give me a gorgeous day of non-stop sunshine but and hold off the rain until I was curled up in bed with my electric blanket on and my cat snuggling me warmly. 

It's currently bucketing down outside and I'm all cosy in bed with the duvet (comforter) pulled up to my chin n_n This is helped greatly by my Dad's awesome decision to get wireless broadband so I can have 20gig a month of wireless goodness from wherever in the house I want. Should I get adventurous I can also go all the way to the back of the yard and still get it, yay!

Heaven help those poor bastards stuck using dial up, or without internet at home.

I can just tell I'm going to get all sorts of hate mail now "There are people in the world who don't even have a roof over their heads or food to eat or clothes to wear and there you are saying how awful it is to have dial up.You don't know what hardship is!"

You know what I say to those people? You, clearly, can't afford wireless broadband.You have my pity.