A Blog Darkly
"I'm hearing music from another time"
Spanish bombs in Andalusia
I'm flying in on a DC10 tonight
So last night I'm down at Bodega to hear the Clash tribute band, Wazzo Clash (The long-time local punk stalwarts Wazzo Ghoti playing as a tribute band). It's pretty good, the musicianship is at least up to scratch and there's a good, enthusiastic crowd and lots of jumping around in front of the stage.
There's a guy wearing a 'Punk's Not Dead' shirt, which makes me wonder. Wasn't punk supposed to be against the whole idea of what we're doing tonight? Paying reverence to 20 year old bands? Getting together to listen to a band play someone else's songs, not to hear something fresh and new?
I don't know. I don't really care - I'm not a punk, I just like some of the music. It's just entertainment.
I leave early because I'm there on my own - Paul rang me just before I left to go out to say he was jetlagged and about to go to sleep; and Drake and Casey were heading home to bed after working a 15 hour day.
Flatmate hunting today (translation: sitting by the phone waiting for people to call).
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22 January: this has not been a good day
Motherfucker.
1. Did my budgeting for 2004. Realised I am going to spend about $1000 more than I earn, even on a very tight budget for entertainment. And with no budget for travel. Debt, here I come.
2. Found out how much annual leave I have left. 11 days, until October. Which would tend to make doing any travelling in September fucking difficult. I could take leave without pay, but that's hardly going to help the budget (see #1)
3. I'm in love with someone on the other side of the world. She's in love with me. But she doesn't want to be exclusive, oh no, not just yet. Bleh.
Oh well. Things could be worse. The reason I have no money is that I'm going to be paying rent on a nice flat, and paying off my student loan, so it's not like it's wasted. But it would be nice to have the semblance of a disposable income.
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21 January: we have somewhere to live
Huzzah!
We seem to have negotiated a place to live. It looks pretty cool, it's close to town (walking distance) but pretty secluded at the same time. It's got off-street parking for Laurie, it's got reasonably big rooms, decent view, a small deck. Nice and modern little townhouse. All we need is one other person to share it with us, and we are completely sorted.
Oh, and some furniture for the shared space, which at the moment we have a coffee table, a TV and a stereo, which leaves something missing, I think. Like chairs. But it does have a connection for satellite TV, which means I don't have to pay $200 for a new one. And, even better, we actually have somewhere to stay rather than being forced to sleep on the street. Mmmmm. Should be a very pleasant place to live. Anyone want to come stay?
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21 January: yo-you summer
Today's paper said we were in for a yo-yo summer.
I think that translates as 'the weather will be totally fucked and you will look like a drowned rat by the end of the day'.
It rained and rained and rained and rained and rained. Which made a nice change from last night, which was rainy and windy. Really windy.
I got soaked walking to work, then soaked again walking to university, and just when I'd dried off I had to walk back to work.
On the up side, I gave my presentation for my digital libraries class, and it went ok, and people asked questions and took notes and appeared interested. So at least I've got it over with, and the grades should be ok.
I managed to lose Martine last night though I was meant to be cat-sitting her for Mary, and she didn't come home last night - but Mary hasn't called me today, so that means she *probably* came home today. Let's hope so. Mary is somewhat attached to her. (understatement of century).
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This madness might just work
I'm talking about Cory, of course. I can't believe how well things are going. We went through a very rough time at the start of December, and it looked as though things were going to fall apart. But ever since then, things have been brilliant. I think maybe we started trusting each other, or something. Or maybe trusting ourselves.
I mean, objectively this is absurd. We're thousands of miles apart with no way to be together for months or years. And yet, it still seems like it's going to work.
Only two more months till she's over here.
I truly feel like a lucky man.
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Double-dating with my dad (well, 1 1/2 dating)
So, yesterday was the big cricket match of the season in Wellington. Of course, I'd been planning to go for ages, but I wasn't planning on booking in advance (it wasn't going to sell out). On Thursday, my dad rings me up, and offers me a ticket. Cool, I hadn't confirmed that any of my friends were going, so this is good. He explains that 'there's this woman who's keen on me, who wants me to take her, but I'm not interested in anything serious, which is what she wants, so I don't want to go with her, and now I can tell her that I'd arranged to go with you'.
Cool.
So I turn up to meet him outside, we go to our seats - and this woman is there! I'm not quite sure how, but she got a ticket through him as well. So for the whole, long day, there's me, and my dad, and some 50-60 year-old who's trying to get in his pants. It's honestly not a pretty sight. (She's fine as a person, it's just the whole dynamics of the situation).
The game was absolutely fantastic though. High-scoring, lots of twists, incredible drama. One of the best I've seen in a long time.
match report -stuff.co.nz
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No sleep till Auckland/the quest for 200 (long)
So yesterday was the Big Day Out. I flew up to Auckland especially, with the plan of coming back to Wellington today, so I didn't miss the New Zealand-Pakistan match.
Things got off to a good start when I noticed the kid beside me on the plane was going to the BDO. Within minutes, I'd arranged a ride to the venue with him and his step-sister (seriously, it made my day when he offered).
Get to the venue and he ditches me as politely as possible, which is cool (I really wasn't going to hang around all day with a bunch of 15-year-olds, just because I was on my own). It's hot hot hot, and packed out. Looks good to me.
(I've decided that my New Years resolution is to try to see 200 bands in 2004. This will be difficult, but not impossible. And festivals mean I can up the numbers fast).
First up is #3
Deja Voodoo. Very cool - they've got the same sense of humour and combination of rock rhythms and pop melodies as the Ramones. Song titles include 'Beers' and 'More Beers', and the classic 'I'm on P':
I smoked P, and I'm alright
I smoked P, didn't get in a fight.
I stroll down to the main stage where the
D4 (#4) are doing their Stooges-revival by numbers thing. Barely a shred of originality, but still fun. And 10 times better than the better-known Datsuns. They're followed by
Black-eyed Peas (#5). I've heard bad things about these guys, mainly from my brother who used to be a big fan until their current album, which he hates. *shrug* - I liked what I heard, even the supposedly bad new songs.
To the dance tent.
Peaches (#6) is on stage with a guitar and very skimpy PVC outfit (which turned up in both newspaper reports I saw of the show today). It's OK, kinda obvious electroclash that works best as a visual experience, not just as music.
Hmmmm....who else? This really wasn't a very memorable concert, overall. I'm sure I'm missing a few people.
Salmonella Dub packed out the dance tent but did exactly the same set they always seem to do. I love 'em, but I'm sick of it.
The Strokes (# were the highlight, from coming onstage to 'Absolutely Cuckoo' by the Magnetic Fields (far and away New York's best band) to admissions of drunkenness and attempts to sing from the middle of the crowd. They played the good ones off 'Room's on Fire' but concentrated on 'Is This It?', which worked for me - and a lot of the songs sounded much better live than on record.
The Darkness - kinda fun - like a Slade revivial or something.
David Holmes (#10) - played 'Blue Monday'. And 'Love will Tear us Apart'. I could have stayed home and heard those tunes.
Aphex Twin - enjoyed what I heard, but had to leave to check out the Strokes.
Metallica (#12), were, well Metallica. Most of the crowd were there to see them, and I guess if you like Metallica they were great. Good presence, played the old stuff and the good new stuff. Just doesn't move me.
Finished the night with
The Flaming Lips. Absolutely gorgeous melodies, played impeccably. A great stage presence (15-20 people in costumes, a background film of half-naked female kung fu, a dozen giant balls, balloons, fire, everything). And yet....it didn't quite work for me. Maybe because Wayne spent waaaay too long talking between songs, and waaaay too much effort trying to get the crowd to sing along. Thing is, it wasn't a Flaming Lips crowd - it was a bunch of people who were quite curious about them and maybe knew a few songs, plus a few harder-core fans. Not the sort of crowd who would be singing along.
All of this is going down pretty well with me, I was enjoying the bands and I'd knocked back some Frenzy (the legal herbal high that actually gets you slightly high). All good. I then come up with the brilliant idea to taxi back to the airport, and sleep there. (The original plan was go downtown, find a cybercafe, stay up all night and then get the first shuttle bus to the airport [my dad pointed out that I could also have gone clubbing. Yes, my dad. I didn't think of this at the time])
So after waiting at least an hour for a taxi, while empty ones go past and won't stop, I finally get on board one. Have a good chat with the driver, and he explains to me that drivers will only stop if they like the look of the passenger. This should re-assure me, but as dozens of empty taxis had gone past, I guess the consensus was that I wouldn't make a good customer. Oh well.
To the airport, manage to get a whole 40 minutes sleep in the international arrivals lounge (forgot that I wasn't likely to doze off after taking the Frenzy). Oh, and in spite of still being quite fucked up, I got the 3rd high score on the pinball machine there, without even really trying. I rock.
Home to Wellington, got a few hours sleep from 9am to noon before heading out again to the cricket.
Great. Just like old times.
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11th Jan: Coincidences. Coincidences are good.
Last night I was all set to go to a party with my brother. It's a farewell thing for an old flatmate of his. Which is cool (she's not a bad chick) except for two things. The party was a long way away, and most of the people there would be young, a little loud and stupid, and (here's the clincher) really interested in cars. So I was unsure about going. Especially as there was a gig I wanted to go to.
So my brother calls me around 7.30 and explains that there isn't any room in the car he's hitching a lift with, and that I could get a train out and have someone meet me at the station. At which point, the gig starts sounding a lot more attractive. He agrees.
So I head down to the every-wonderful Indigo Bar , there to see Turin Brakes , a band of whom I actually know nothing, except that they get good reviews, and I really liked the b-side of their first single. (They're kind of in the same genre as someone like Coldplay or Travis, but a lot more stripped down - two guitars, two vocals and keyboard).
Then comes one of those great nights. I'm standing on my own when Stephen walks up. He's a friend of a friend, we've hung out a few times, and he's very enthusiastic about making friends. So we're talking for a while, and Vincent from school walks up, and we all chat a while. Then Vincent goes to find his wife, and Stephen makes friends with this random English guy who's there on his own. We all head up the front for the gig.
And it is fantastic. One of the best gigs I've seen in a long time. Great tunes, well-played, both the crowd and the band really into it, to the point where they do an unplanned encore and finish the set applauding the crowd. I'm totally converted, and ecstatic to have seen them in such a small venue.
Then a bunch of us head down to Sandwiches, a new(ish) bar/club that's playing quality indie/dance stuff in the bar, and has a nice, dark, seedy-looking dancefloor that would be absolutely fantastic if (a) they weren't playing progressive and (b) I was on drugs, but is still pretty damn good anyway.
Home, sweaty. Good night
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8th Jan: Successfully completed diet
Yes, I know it was only one week. That was the point. It was a chance to give up meat and cheese and butter, and see how I did.
Pretty well, I think.
Sussed out how to make two easy, cheap, tasty and healthy meals (ratatouille and vege stir fry) plus two less cheap but tasty sides (potato salad and coleslaw, thanks to my trusty Philly cookbook). Realised about two days in that my diet was so low-fat I actually needed to find some fat to eat, and started eating peanuts. I think it worked out pretty well.
Now as usual I am online and procrastinating instead of doing exciting research into the Dublin Core (which is a hell of a lot more boring than whatever you think it is).
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6th Jan: Severe fucking back pain
I think it's a punishment for my hubris.
There I was, congratulating myself on getting out of bed early, and getting up to the gym before work (like around 6.30). And I'm on the treadmill, going nice and easy, covered nearly 6km, no trouble. I'm thinking how fit I'm getting, and my legs aren't aching and there's no tightness in my back.
When all of a sudden the most vicious shooting pain hits me in the small of my back. I hit the Stop button and stagger back home. Really, really slowly. It hurts even to stand fully straight, never mind to bend. I feel sick, like I'm going to faint or throw up.
I head down to work (best thing after back pain is to try to follow your normal routine) and swallow painkillers. This is where things get better, and I'm saved by a gorgeous blonde. My workmate Cath, as luck would have it, is an elite field hockey player and coach. She comes around and shows me a few stretches. Within minutes, I'm feeling better. Not great. Not great at all. But the pain is only present rather than overwhelming. And I don't feel like throwing up anymore.
Sometimes, I like my job.
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4th Jan: This was a good day
Last day of my holidays, I go back to school and work from tomorrow. I've had a very relaxing two weeks, the first spent lazing around at my mother's house, and the second lazing around at mine. I saw my family, good things happened. Since then I've been at the flat, taking it easy, eating well and studying.
Today though: I hit the gym and managed a full hour on the treadmill - I only covered just under 6 miles, but that was the plan. I'm doing long slow jogging at the moment, on slight hill profiles, gradually building up the speed. Got a long way to go yet, but it was a good workout.
Then came home, knocked my essay into shape while watching sport on TV - the good guys were winning - India v Australia (cricket), Panthers vs Cowboys (American Football), and, most importantly, Celtic vs Rangers (Scottish Football) (more importantly, New Zealand beat Pakistan at cricket, but that was yesterday). And I spent a long time on AIM, talking to a certain special lady (I can't believe I used that expression non-ironically ). I feel good about us. It's funny how I can have total confidence that things will work out, even though we're on other sides of the freaking planet. But I do. And she makes me feel better about the world I'm in.
I feel happy. And I hope you do, too.
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23 December: Housefire? Nearly!
A word of warning, kids, so that you don't make the same mistake this poor fool did:
never, ever, put soup on to heat, then leave the stove unattended while you go downstairs to your PC to type emails to your nearest and dearest. There is a good chance that the soup WILL START BURNING, leading to all sorts of unpleasantries, like billowing clouds of black smoke in your kitchen, smoke detectors going off, and having to throw out both a perfectly good meal of soup, and a perfectly good saucepan. Oh, and having nothing to eat for dinner, either.
Bleh. Anyone who wants to point and laugh at my stupidity, I probably deserve it.
After two days, the stink of burnt chicken still hasn't left the house
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23 December: "you have to move towards the 5th dimension..."
So, work sent me to this counsellor type guy (he calls it 'corporate coaching'). He is freaking me out. His "thing" is like a mixture of a whole pot pourri of ideas that take in Jungian psychology, Buddhist meditation, weird New Age stuff, transpersonal psychology, and Shamanism.
But at the same time as being influenced by Jung, he's telling me that what happened in the past is completely irrelevant to what happens now (thereby skewering the sacred cow of psychoanalytic theory). He also, at one point, seemed to advocate the use of LSD and MDMA in therapeutic settings.
He also has this thing about dimensions. He spent a long time explaining to me that most people only thought in 3 dimensions, or sometimes even less, but that we needed to get into the 4th (dreams) and then the 5th (collective unconsciousness, I think) dimensions. And that it was his goal to guide me into the 5th dimension, and that then I'd be able to guide [people I deal with in my work] in the same way.
Weird thing is, at one point he was talking like these dimensions were the actual dimensions we experience (height, width etc) and at another point, as though people could exist in less than 3 dimensions. So I can't work out if they were metaphors or what.
Oh, he also had some suggestions about how by focusing my energies on one person (his idea, not mine) I was shutting myself off to other people and not letting them into my inner thoughts (which I aren't, basically). I think he thinks I'm going to have a heart attack, as well, because my heart is in turmoil (or so he says).
Ugh. I just looked at his business card. He's got several teaching degrees, a BA, and BA (Hons) in Psychology. In other words, he's got the same qualification as I have. And I'm being sent to this guy as some kind of counsellor! Does that seem stupid to anyone?
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22 December: Things that make me smile today
So I'm at work, doing very little as the year winds down. Even so, I'm actually achieving things, thanks mainly to the fact that absolutely no-one is asking me to do anything, so I get to do all the maintenance type stuff that I normally wouldn't have time to do. So that makes me happy.
The sun is shining.
My football team won. Even if I was so tired I fell asleep watching the game.
I'm off to a free screening of LOTR3 in an hour or so.
I got a Christmas card from Kyla. This was extra-specially cool because it was so unexpected. Thank you sweetie
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21 December: Less stress, more beer
Ah.....the joyous feeling of being at midterm, with nothing to worry about for a few weeks. Tied to the feeling of knowing that nothing is happening at work, but I'm still getting paid, and we're getting given an extra 3 days leave this year, to cover the period between Christmas and New Year.
Friday was our team Christmas lunch. We went bowling first, which was a lot of fun, and occasionally laugh out loud funny. Notably when our skinhead IT guru slipped after bowling and ended up sprawled in the lane next to his. Onwards to lunch, which frankly could have been better, but who cares, it was OK.
Back to work (still not having done anything all day except play on BL, go bowling, eat, and sit around while the skinhead IT guy installed iTunes on my PC). Sit around a while more, stroll over to the university, come back, watch some cricket on the giant projector screen in the boardroom, then it's time to go drinking with the workmates, so I do that for a while, sneak off to have dinner with some other friends, and then head back to my workmates.
At this point I've had about 7 beers, 2 wines, 1 champagne, and a sake. So I'm nicely drunk. I have another beer, and the conversation turns to the sacking of John Mitchell as coach of the New Zealand rugby team. I'm firmly of the opinion that this is a mistake, and I tell Don so - 'the thing is, elite coaches need time to perform. He'd only been in the job a year and a half. What we need to be doing is giving these coaches more time in the job, so they can build a side, without the constant pressure to perform, at once, or be fired". All of which is fine. And then my drunk brain remembers that Don is the coach of the New Zealand softball team. Who are world champions twice in a row. And he's also in charge of the support programme for elite coaches in NZ sport generally. So he probably has a better idea than I do about what elite coaches need.
At this point, I stagger home before embaressing myself anymore.
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17 December: Cypress Hill, laziness, digital cameras and bad therapy
In a few minutes I will be going to drink beer in the sun with Drake and Casey, prior to hitting the Cypress Hill concert. I'm happy. Not my favourite band ever, but I like 'em, and let's face it when you live here, it's not like you're spoilt for choice.
Spent the day doing basically nothing - not totally my fault, every time I tried to do something there'd be a fire alarm or something, and I'd have to leave the building. Did get to go on a field trip to the National Library, where we looked at their digital scanning equipment (which sounds deathly dull, even to me, but was actually really interesting). They have a scanner half the size of a room, weighing 1 1/2 tons, and with loads of seriously cool techy stuff that makes me want one, even though I couldn't exactly use it for anything.
Bad therapy was the corporate wellness facilititator (or whatever he was called) they sent me to. Worst.counselling.ever. We spent most of my 50 minutes with him talking at me - not asking me about my issues, not discussing my issues, just going off on a rant about his theories. Which were basically that depression doesn't really exist, it's just a desire to do nothing. Um.OK. Completely irrelevant to any of the real issues in my life, but it managed to create a few false ones. Bleh. I think after Christmas I should find my own therapist, you know?
Right. sun. beer. hiphop. Yeah.
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16 December: Me has good news
/me has good news:
*made my 4th payment on my student loan this week. That's $4000 paid off since I got back from the US. I'm pretty pleased with that. I've now reached the point where the motherfucker is noticably smaller. At last. Some of that debt must go back 10 years, no joke. I guess that's the price I pay for travelling round the world for 4 years, sleeping on people's couches and partying, rather than getting a real job and paying off my debts. But now I get to pay off the debts, and I got to have the experience. Can't be bad.
*for some reason, work is paying for me to go to a therapist. I'm actually not as sick as they think I am, they just gave me the psych test at a time when I felt like absolute shit. If I'd taken it two hours earlier or later the result would have been different. Oh well. I wanted to go to a therapist anyway. Now I don't have to pay. Tee hee.
*A to the motherfucking K homeboy. A to the motherfucking Z.
I've been practicising my whiteboy hiphop moves, because Cypress Hill are playing town tomorrow. Mmmm.
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13 December: Somewhat ironical
Somewhat ironical
Having spent at least part of today studying hard/copying articles from the Digital Library Foundation verbatim, and hoping my lecturer doesn't notice (Hey, plagiarism seems popular in my department, I want to get in on that), I had a nice long phone call to a certain New Jersey hotel. As you'd expect, the phone there had barely rung all day, until I called wanting to speak to Cory, which resulted in about a dozen calls coming through, and me being put on hold.
Curse these people! Don't they know I'm trying to talk to her? Do they think she wants to hear from them?. Idiots.
Anyway, Cory was somewhat upset that it looked like she had nothing to do tonight. I, on the other hand, had great plans to go to a club. Just one little problem. I forgot to actually mention this to anyone who might have been interested in coming with me. Result? They all have other plans, and I'm at home, 9pm on a Saturday, studying and posting on BL.
Hmmm. A lesson here about forward planning, y'think?
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10 Dec: Calexico, Buddhism, and more bloggity goodness
So, it's been another good day. Work is winding down for the year's end, and everyone's quite relaxed. Spent lunchtime at a Buddhist meditation class, which was really interesting - they seem to have a knack of solving problems with some very simple truths - things that seem so obvious that they couldn't work. But they do
I'm at home now, but getting excited because I'm getting to see Calexico tonight. I don't actually know their music at all, but they fit in a genre with some artists I really like - especially Giant Sand, who a couple of them play with. So it should be good. And they're the favourite band of a former girlfriend of mine, who has excellent taste. So they should be good.
And my ego got a nice little boost from
this - my other blog got a mention on The Shifted Librarian.com. To put this in context, Jenny is probably the most well-known librarian weblogger. If you're talking about the convergence of information technology and information science, she is one of the web experts. So the fact that she even noticed what I was saying is kind of an honour.
/does happy dance
New positive attitude begins to equal positive things happening.
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