Latest Obsession

Aside from my normal latest obsessions (ie- my new Pier One candles [thanks Mom and Dad], spicy potato rolls, red wines of all kinds but in particular Saints Cabernet Sauvignon Merlot, going to movies, ugly jewelry that becomes endearing, and all things almond from my shower gel to muesli), I have a newfound King of All Obsessions! My dear friend, Lisa, instructed me to look at a Bright Eyes video that has a woman who looks like me, except that she's pregnant. Actually, it does look a lot like me. The video is This is the First Day of My Life for those of you who would like to see my pregnant doppleganger. While looking at this, I realized that they have launchcast, which is an online radio. I adore it.

Let me explain. I don't get any radio stations in my flat, so yes, I wake up to static fuzz every morning because I refuse to ever be woken up by beeping again in my life. Regardless, I can't listen to the radio then because I don't own a car and when else would I be in the proximity of a radio I can control? Well, not only is the Yahoo music launchcast a nice little radio, it allows you to personalize it. Heaven. Pure, sweet heaven. It's kind of like Napster (back when it was good and illegal) because you can put in your kinds of music, but it also has links for lyrics, how to buy the album or just the song, and artist biographies. Good Lord! It also has commercials... good old fashioned American commercials. Sigh. They have an offer where you pay like 5 dollars a month to get rid of the commercials, but I think I would pay the 5 to keep them. It's fun to hear commercials out of Chicago (which must be where the Yahoo gods believe I am). The only downside is that you have to be online to use it, which is only sad for those of us that are forced to still have dial up. Stupid technology lapse between America and New Zealand.

It, too, has the Amazon like mind reading skills because with every song, you rate the artist, the title, and the album. With these ratings, they suggest other stuff that you might like. Good Lord they can read me like a little book. So utterly content with music that isn't the same CDs I've had for quite some time now. It's once again raining (it's worse here than Seattle), I have my sublime candles, and hours of non-repeating stellar music. It's gonna be a good day.

Twilight Zone

Okay, for the sake of easy and entertaining writing, I am going to combine these odds factors of my recent past into one day of weirdness. Yes, I have altered the truth of series of events in my blog for better reading. Whatev - you totally know you do it casual conversation on a regular basis.

Today is weird. It's weird for a lot of reasons which I will describe to you. I didn't sleep well last night. Some dream where I was saving the world from pizza restaurants (perhaps my latest health kick is getting a bit extreme) caused me to have restless sleep. Then I woke up a minute before my alarm, which isn't weird but an inherited godsend from my dad, but I hadn't set my alarm. While I work out most days, I don't work out on soccer days and today happens to be a soccer day. Also, I have nothing to write today. I have written approximately one thousand (quality) words a day for the past week and a half for a couple papers. The due dates have passed. I was now awake with no working out or paper writing to do. So I went grocery shopping. I needed some more yogurt and muesli anyhow. I had to bundle up, but got to wear my sunglasses due to copious amounts of bright sun. You know, sun that was intermittent with pending doom clouds and splatterings of rain. Sure, sure. Totally normal. There was a hoola hoop in the Leith and a dalmation seagull on my way to the store.

At the store, I found the meat imitation section that I had somehow missed for the past 5 months. A six pack of soy dogs (don't you judge me) was 12 dollars. Are you freakin' kidding me? I will buy the chickpeas and mash 'em into dog shapes all on my own for less. Also, a regular sized bottle of multi vitamins is 18 dollars. Needless to say, I huffed and said out loud, "You gotta be kidding me!" and went on my merry way. The grocer asked me where I was from and I told her Wisconsin and she was shocked that I was American. Let's not fool ourselves. I have no resemblance of an accent and am horrible conscious when I have to pronounce the 'h' in herb or say tomAHto instead of tomAYto. I was buying a Cosmo. Please, honey, don't flatter me. I reek of Americanism. I returned home to find my computer off and closed, although I didn't remember doing it. I also had no desire to turn on said computer. This is unfathomable. Then, as I was suiting up to come to work for my one hour, it started raining, monsoon-wind flared up, and it hailed for a bit. However, when I stepped outside, all precipitation and wind stopped. And none of the mail in mailbox was actually for me today.

It's a weird freakin' day. And it's only noon. Maybe this is what my life is like without naps. I don't like it; don't like it one bit. My plan of attack is to retaliate with such a long afternoon of reading and napping that when I wake up, it will seem like a new, run of the mill, normal day.

Frugality

This post is really just to defend my financial abilities. I know we all think that I am horrible with money, and that's mostly because I am. But! I am getting tremendously better. I may spend copious amounts of money on fine wining and dining, but I am penny pinching in other areas. This one will shock you all, if you know me and my love of hair care products in the least: I just finished, and I mean this morning, the first bottle of conditioner I bought here in New Zealand. That means that one (count 'em: one!) bottle of conditioner lasted me from the second of February to now. Wow, I'm good. And my hair isn't awful looking either, apart from the fact that we are now reasonably sure that short hair no longer suits me. I also have not purchased any hair appliance apart from a blow dryer, so that means no curling irons of varying sizes, no hair straighteners (for the smooth and shiny benefits), no nothing. I also don't own any hair care products aside from a giant and budget bottle of hair spray and that was only to keep my hair in a freakin' ponytail for the entire duration of a soccer practice.

Look at me getting minimalist. Granted, I still need to spend less on movies and decorations for my flat, but I also haven't bought any clothes or shoes in months either. Little Annika is growing up. Baby steps. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to buy a twenty dollar bottle of wine.

Reading is Fun!

I am horribly disappointed with myself and my current reading status. I have had heaps of papers to write (if you hadn't picked up on that from my constant griping) and naturally, before you write tremendous amounts, you need to read tremendous amounts. Now, I like to recreationally read, but man, you get sick of it. As I was once tearing through a book a week, I have now been reading one novel long enough that I had to get it renewed from the library. Shock of shocks. I don't remember the last time I didn't make a library deadline. Not only that, I still have a book obsession.

I went in just to renew that and a research book, but I came out with three more books. Shoot. They just jumped into my arms and I couldn't stop it. One other book I wanted to get was The Life of Pi, but it always gets checked out right away. I just wanted to know when it was going to be back in. I knew there was a way to check it online, but couldn't remember. I asked at the desk and the guy told me I could put a recall on the book, which I think is really rude. I mean, I can't even get through my first novel, let alone the next three I just picked up. The guy basically yelled at me for not asking for it back on a recall. Jerks, emphasizing my newfound inability to read quickly. Any true novel enthusiast would understand why recalling any book for any purpose other than a book needed for research or an assignment is entirely uncalled for and rude.

Novel enthusiasts unite!

So Hot...

Gorgeous redhead... So this is Lohan during the filming of the movie, looking gorgeous even in a racing jacket (or whatever that is). She's not posing, not done up, not blonde. Well, let's see her at the premiere for the movie!

...So Not

And gross and stereotypical. Why, former pretty girl, why? Now I can't tell her from any of the other neurotic anorexic starlets!

Small Fish and Small Pond

As I research for my second (almost forgotten about) paper due this coming week, I have realized something. New Zealand is small. Now, this should be obvious, but I don't even mean just in physical size. I am researching their school funding system, known as a decile system so named because it divides all the schools into tenths based on the percentage of low income students and bases its funding on those percentages. Still, it's kind of a random term that doesn't show up too much, in relation to New Zealand schools anyhow, in a google search. Not only that, though, the academic journal databases have nothing on New Zealand school funding.

My mini-thesis is on collaboration and out of the literally thousands of articles, approximately two-thirds were from American sources. Most others were from the UK, Australia and Canada in descending order of quantity. New Zealanders just can't possibly catch up with the amount of research literature put out by the rest of the world -- and that's just the internationally relevant topics. So while they are frantically trying to be a respectable research base on those broad issues, there are still the "small" issues that are only relevant here in Kiwiland. So while school funding and its links to poverty are always hot topics, how are the researchers to keep up? No wonder there is a big push for practicioner research in schools... no one else can spare the time to research for an area that isn't their professional domain!

After googling decile schools and getting people's blogs as the top of my search results, I have decided to head to the library for real books that will be supported by the New Zealand library system. Perhaps the library will also have back issues of educational magazines that haven't bothered being put on the web yet. Goodness... I never realized how easy it was to be American and research any hot topic of American culture until those resources just weren't there. Sigh. Off to the library.

Leakages

Today is the day of leakages. First, I finally finished my first chapter of my thesis. I will allow a moment for various victories cries. To celebrate I decided to watch Oprah and take a nap. Well, I settled in after a particularly ferociously girl power ridden episode and started to drift off to sleep until my toe was wet. I gasped awake (perhaps from a couple traumatizing experiences with a cousin who enjoyed wetting the bed for an awfully long time or perhaps it's from being near many two year olds as they napped and being snapped into action at the slightest hint of a drop...). My stupid hot water bottle had started leaking. For goodness' sake. So I tossed it onto the carpet in order to retain the briefest of beginnings of dreams, but no, my efforts were in vain. So I had a five and a half minute nap. Then I decided to be productive and let my bed dry.

Off to the store for wedding cards and groceries. I decided to buy some of those things you should buy, but don't until you realize you can't just borrow Mom and Dad's bleach once a month. Plus, these items are usually heavy so I can't mix them in with the other daily consumables. Regardless, I was on my blissful way home after discussing Americans and sheep (don't ask) with the cashier, and I noticed a wet spot on my leg. The bleach was starting to leak. For goodness' sake. So I came home praying that my favorite pants aren't ruined forever and realized that my sheets still aren't dry. So I write this blog as I dry my sheets like a guilty four year old.

Here's hoping I make it through the night with no more accidents!

How Did They Know?

There are some things that I just shouldn't do. One of those things is window shop on amazon.com. It wouldn't be so bad because there are crazy good deals on books... you know, if you aren't shipping halfway around the world. It was worth it for Dave Eggers, but I can't be spending all my money on shipping and handling. Still, I have had a nice little day (got an A on a paper, got a decent start on actually writing my mini-thesis, bought groceries which always indicates a feast for dinner just to celebrate) so I thought I would check up on my books on amazon.com to continue the pleasant day trend.

First off, I want to say that I am lazy and so buy most of my DVDs, CDs and books that are going to be presents from amazon (I should so be getting royalties for this post) so their recommended readings and what-have-you are usually quite off the mark. I am not a huge fan of Andrew Lloyd Webber music, for instance. Also, not really a huge fan of Meatloaf, but there they sit in my recommended list. Just as I was laughing at the obviously botched system, I saw some Dave Eggers stuff. Okay, fine, I did just buy some Dave Eggers. Then, it shocked me. It had up a Scrubs DVD. Gasp. When did I express amazon interest in my all time favorite show (of the moment)? Then it had Pete and Pete! Double gasp. How did they know that I used to love that show back in the day?? Then they put up three books that were on my personal wish list, but nothing that I had expressed on amazon. Then three or four CDs that I had on my birthday wish list... but how could they have known?!

I mean, yes, I am sure they have some tracking thing that tells them what I look at, but hey, I've looked for baby gifts and wedding presents... do they just know that those are obviously for someone else? They assume that Meatloaf must be mine, but baby? Lord, no. While I marvel at the wonder that is the amazon person-judging technology, I have to be slightly suspicious. I don't like thinking that I am this predictable. I have bought a handful of things from this company and already they can make out my Christmas list better than I can. I hate being transparent.

Boo Technology Boo

So New Zealand really might be making strides to be "modern" in the worldly sense, but they still have some major bugs to be worked out. Yesterday, my computer disconnected itself from the internet. Sometimes, it does this. If I were a more technologically inclined person, I would figure out why, but instead I just reconnect and go on with my day. Yesterday, it would not reconnect. So I figured, "Bah... I will catch up on my huge email inbox and blogging at work." Much to my chagrin, the campus internet was down, yet again. Now, truth be told, the campus network is usually down, but my non-campus internet is usually fine. Eftpos (their debit cards, basically) was also down. As was my calling card carrier, inhibiting me from calling my dad on Father's Day until he was already asleep. I mean, New Zealand, come on. No internet, no credit or debit cards, no calling cards?? How does one function? I mean, personally, I napped and watched Oprah, but is the whole population supposed to stop what they're doing and wait for technology to come back on?

It was even newsworthy. There was a twenty minute spot on the nighttime news about it. My friend even heard speculation of a minor economic crash because of the limits temporarily imposed on spending. Get your technology together, people! So I would like to blame my lack of blogging on New Zealand's great internet crash of 05 instead of my lazy/party like a rock star weekend.

Life is Fair After All

This is my new theory. The world will be right and fair because Paris Hilton is increasingly looking like Stifler's mom of American Pie infamy. Ha. She's gonna just get uglier as time goes on. Not that I think Jennifer Coolidge is really unattractive, but I mean, Paris is not going to be the waifish, self absorbed girl that she is forever.

Mmmm... Cosmos

I think that Sex and the City is the new equalizer. Sure it's kind of an American thing, and quite obviously a NYC thing, but its greater subtexts of women and their issues (good and bad) transcend the country barrier. I say this because I am about to have a Sex and the City marathon with friends this evening. I honestly feel like I am about to see an old friend because I haven't seen a single Sex and the City scene since I got here. It's also really hard to rent the DVD's here. But my friends, crossing the ocean gap between us, all appreciate the glory that is this show.

I will watch and be reminded how all my friends have a piece of the various characters in them. The relationships will seem all so familiar and I will feel whole with Sex and the City on TV and a Cosmo in my hand. And I am beginning to worry this is unhealthy. :)

I have decided to start relating it to CDs. You know when I think of junior high, I think of Salt n Pepa and that genre of music as well as, interestingly enough, Weezer, the blue album. Early uni years reek of ghetto booty music. Shoop and You Can Call Me Al will always make me think of sorority formals and parties(and of course Def Leppard's Pour Some Sugar on Me!!). Sex and the City will always remind me of my friends. So I challenge you to say that makes it unhealthy! :) Sex and the City - we reunite tonight!

Running of the Students

I would like to once again mention the fact that finals are going on and I don't have them. :) It just makes me happy to say that, but yes, I do actually have a relevant point. I have been avoiding the library like the plague because students are just overrunning the place, leaving no coffee line short, no computer hookup available, and no seat unfilled. I guess I will just do research from home and/or work. Still, some of my friends do have finals. Poor kids. They have alerted me to a phenomenon that I just don't think would happen back in the States, or at least not at any school I would go to.

Kids line up for the library to open. Yep, there's a real long line of uni kids chomping at the bit to run in the doors as soon as they are opened to "get the good seats." I swear to God, it apparently looks like U2 suddenly came to campus and were putting on a show in the library. Only... it's actually just finals. If I were the sadistic type (which, let's face it, I am) who would wake up early for this sort of thing (which, let's face it, I'm not), I would take a picture of these crazy kids tearing up the library doors every morning.

I am still in a state of semi-disbelief as I have never seen this particular fiasco of student performance myself. It boggles the mind. Are they really that studious? Are they really that in love with their library? Chances are, and let's hope this is true, they are just kings and queens of procrastination. But still. Chaotic stadium trampling to get a good seat during finals? Freaks.

Ice Feet

The chill here in Dunedin lately has brought a permafrost to the world. Usually this frost melts during the morning, but lately, it has just hung around in the dank cool that is winter here. Yes, appreciate your summer! :) You know how the first snow has all the drivers acting like they have never seen a road, a car, or snow in their lives? It's because people are regaining their bearings on the ice. I will prefer to say that and not that people are silly and should not have to drive two miles an hour because snow is falling.

Turns out, this phenomenon (do doo do do do) works with walking on ice as well. I don't have stable feet anyway. I remember that one of my "growing up" moments was when I slipped on Valpo's campus covering my knees in mud on the way to class. The adult thing was that I continued on to class where I was mocked instead of running home embarrassed. Yeah, big moment. Regardless, I don't need help falling, especially from ice. At least I am in the awkward lurch phase of my life: I don't actually fall down, but I do that slip, "Whooops!", arms lurching and then awkwardly regaining my balance. Honestly, it'd almost be better just to fall.

Still, the whole of Dunedin seems to have the same case of arm lurching. People are slipping all over the place and I, for one, love it. The humbling effect of this is great. You can't be proud when you're slipping all over the place. I love it. All that being said, I really hope we get our collective ice feet because a whole season of the slip-whoops-lurch would get old real fast.

Hip Hippie Hooray

There are times when I like to kid myself that I could pass for being a hippie, or at least moderately bohemian. Some of these times are when I am dressed more casually and shopping with my environmentally friendly reusable grocery bags and thinking about my membership in greenpeace. Yesterday was not one of these days. I was dressed for work, which is casually professional. I can't see them ever yelling at me for anything I would wear, but I like to dress kind of nicely considering I enjoy my job and would like to keep it. Yesterday, I decided to go grocery shopping between two stints of hours I was working (it's nice being the fill in person). I did have my environmental bags and my backpack, but otherwise looked somewhat like Professional Annika, not Bohemian wannabe Annika. I shopped quickly and had my coupons ready at checkout. This was the first time, however, that I had brought my backpack (because I was planning on buying pears, potatoes, and kumara which start to add up, weight wise) so I was fumbling while trying to shove these bulking fruits and vegetables into my backpack. Every time I would inch a bit forward, the woman behind me would sigh and inch her cart up to my butt. Goodness' sake, woman, I am not hindering your checkout process! Then she started muttering stuff incoherently except for one loud burst of "Hippie!"

I broke into a bemused smile and said, "Excuse me?" I didn't think there was any way on God's green earth that she was talking about me. She said, "Why don't you just get the regular bags like everybody else??" I said, "Well, it's actually that I can't fit these potatoes in my backpack. Sorry, I'll try to hurry it up." (Quite generous of me, if you ask me.) "What? Are you walking?? Too good for a car?" I was completely taken aback. I had no idea if she was just trying to be chatty, but happened to be naturally gruff or if she was just angry at some hippie and I was just in her way. I responded, "Well, I live like less than ten blocks from here. Might as well walk, I guess." She just angrily muttered to herself some more and I looked at the woman who had bagged my groceries for some indication of what was going on. We just shrugged at each other and I went on my hippie, tree-hugging way.

I mean, a real hippie would acknowledge that I am totally a poser. I might be a vegetarian who uses reusable grocery bags, but please. That hardly makes me a card holding member of the group. Either way, I was proud that my refusal to adhere to the system (ie- using reusable bags, buying my organic vegetables, walking my groceries home) messed with her day. I'd like to take credit for just once using passive resistance and making a difference. Even if the impact was just pissing off some angry lady, I'm still proud of my "hippie" ways that are the closest I will ever get to protesting.

Hot Chocolate and Sydney

So it might be Sydney and not Fiji. Turns out, it's way cheaper to go to the first instead of the latter. Incredibly different trips, but what can you do? I think they are both must-visits. My more important discovery of the day is that I like hot chocolate.

For years now, I thought I didn't like hot chocolate because it tastes like watered down chocolate (which I suppose it is). Well, the wonderful, fantastic Centre for Innovation has free hot chocolate as well as tea and (instant) coffee. I decided to try hot chocolate on the basis of my parents' wise advice: always retry things you don't like on an approximately annual basis; tastes change. Well, mmm hot chocolate. It truly is a warming comforting winter drink. And considering I bask in the glorious bliss that is drinking coffee in the middle of summer, I bet I would like hot chocolate then too.

There's a distinct possibility that I am putting too much chocolate mix into my hot water. They don't have directions on the communal jar of mix because they probably assume that anyone over the age of four can make up some hot chocolate. So I just put mix in until it looks like what I think hot chocolate should look like. Granted, this is the same girl who thinks an egg/cheese mixture tastes just like McDonald's sausage, so maybe my expectations aren't quite "on", but still - this is some freakin' great hot chocolate.

(Sidenote: The spell check just asked if when I wrote "freakin'" I may have meant foreskin. Have a pleasant day!)

Holiday Overload

Today's gripe is one that will not get much sympathy from anyone, and yet I continue! :) I am having a holiday overload right now. I have been used to my little routine of class, work, soccer and homework, but now everything has been on holiday. It's been too rainy for soccer, we are on break from school and yesterday I had off for... (insert suspenseful music) the Queen's birthday! That's right, folks, New Zealand had the day off for the Queen's birthday. They are way too obsessed with royalty around here. So I had nothing to do yesterday at all. I know this sounds nice, but I literally had nothing to do yesterday. I read and napped and read some more. But this was Day One of real holiday time. Sad. What will my state of affairs be by Day Thirteen?

The one pleasant part of my holiday overload is that my parents just gave me a nice little monetary gift, which when paired with my next couple paychecks will cover a nice, modest trip to Fiji for my birthday!! Yeah, I'm not even pretending to be overwhelmed by the relaxation that I will get then. I'm ecstatic! So I will finally have some new pictures to put up on my pictures website. But since I will be tossing on a swimsuit in winter (remember that it really is winter here) and I need to save like I'm my brother (hahahahahaha) I will be trading in my ice cream cones for sit ups. Boo. There's always a down side, isn't there?

:)

Writing = Puking

Yes that's right, kiddos, Auntie Annika has yet another theory of life she'd like to throw out there (right after she stops referring to herself in the third person). I am in the midst of my final week of Semester One here at the fine University of Otago. While I don't have finals because all my classes are year long, etc etc, I do have a whopping paper due tomorrow/today/whenever Friday morning is. I have been writing this paper for a full one and half eternities, I swear to God. Writing has just gotten harder as the years have gone on. Sure, it was easy when all I had to do to impress my first grade teacher was write a Halloween story that had a villain named, Frank N. Stein. Ingenious, I know. Now, I have to sound all... smart and crap. I don't like writing like articles. I barely like reading research articles; heaven help me the day I start sounding like one. In order to appease the academic gods, however, I succumb to the desired writing style, which leads me into my latest theory of life.

Writing a dreadful paper is like having the flu or any illness in which you puke. You just sit there, disabled by the general "icky" feeling you have. Then all at once, blech - a bunch of words spew up onto the page and you feel instantly better. But after a few minutes have passed, the paralyzing sick feeling re-enters the scene. You realise that like the bad oysters you had last year, there is just so much more that has to come up before you're ever going to feel better. So after a few days of blech, blech, bleching you finally feel drained, exhausted, and hoping you never have to feel that way again. You swear to be more careful about what you eat (the research you'll do) and you'll be sure to be prepared by taking extra vitamin C (doing your readings all on time and being prepared), but sure enough, you find yourself in the same bloody position just a short time later.

Hope you've enjoyed my true life analogy; forgive me, but I must go spew up the last of this little flu before I pass out, exhausted, into my bed.

American Travesty

Good Lord, I couldn't be more disappointed right now if I tried. In a desperate attempt to dilute the dense academic philosophies swimming in my head at the end of a long semester, I decided to read up on my MSN Hollywood gossip. Unfortunately, my ignorant bliss was shattered by this little piece of info - Kevin Spacey is doing reality TV?! One of my favorite actors from great films like Usual Suspects, American Beauty, L.A. Confidential, Se7en, and so many more... how could you? Honestly, this lack of judgment is unforgivable. Even if it would be a good way to show the gritty side of being a star (wah, wah, wah -- by the way), even if this would be a different reality show, even if it would be good, how dare you jump on the reality TV bandwagon. It is an already over-saturated market that has reaped few benefits for anyone involved.

When a great actor does something like this, it forces me to separate people from their characters which I actually hesitate to do. If you do great films, playing compelling characters that question society and culture, I have to think that you too may be compelling and interesting. Turns out, Mr. Spacey would like to correct me on that. I do apologize for the misunderstanding.

As if that wasn't enough bad Hollywood news for me, I have to hear that Paris Hilton is engaged. For goodness' sake. I hesitate to even attempt to comment on that one. Hollywood, I think you've gotten too dramatic and silly for even my taste. And that's surely saying something.