Because our IT lady has recently gone on maternity leave, I’ve taken over the job of doing the regular backups on our work server. Each time I’ve done them, there’s been a file that’s popped up with some error message. Funnily enough that file is linked to here. After a weany bit of investigation, I discovered today that my boss has Kiwigirl101 bookmarked in his favourites; *waves* - everyone say “Hi” to Ross … He’s a good guy, so be nice to him
However, two things (actually three) puzzle me about this …
1) I very rarely blog from work, maybe during my morning or afternoon break, but very rarely. So, this begs the question of how he found me. I have my own ideas on that and it was one of the reasons I switched over from blogger to here.
2) It looks like the last time he was here was back in April. Musta made fascinating reading. *snore* Obviously I’d been a huge timewaster on here between Christmas and then.
And, 3) Do I care that he (and obviously another staff member) know that this blog exists and have visited. It would be nice to think that this could be private, but I realised these things are mostly not. Me finks I’ll think on it ….
In my marketing a couple of weeks ago we were talking about test markets and how marketers use them to, well, test products on a range of people to see how well the products sell or how well they do. That’s not rocket science, aye.
Apparently little old New Zealand, with our magnificent population of 4 million (and no, I haven’t missed any figures there), is one such test market for some of the big corporations and also for some of the American TV networks. Who would have thought!
Anyway on Monday night I was watched the season finale (can’t be just a final can it, has to be a finale) of Men in Trees. Who doesn’t love Men in Trees? Jack *sigh*, Ploughguy *double sigh*. Sorry, I digress (doesn’t take much to distract me these days) and being the nosey kinda chick that I am, I thought I’d do a little google search and see if the Men in Trees website had any episodes up for the coming season.
And what did I find? … ah ha … we’re ahead of what’s been aired in the States. So we must be a test market, which kinda thrilled me in a way (only cause I knew what was going on) and gutted me in another, cause I did so want to know if Jack an…. oops
So, for anyone who’s nosey like me and can’t wait to know what happens, for a small price I might be willing to divulge my test market secrets.
A Monkey is sitting in a tree smoking a joint when a Lizard walks past and looks up and says to the Monkey:
“Hey! What are you doing?”
The Monkey says: “Smoking a joint, come up and have some.”
So the Lizard climbs up and sits next to the Monkey and they have a few joints.
After a while the Lizard says his mouth is ‘dry’ and he’s going to get a drink from the river. The Lizard is so stoned that he leans too far over and falls into the river. A Crocodile sees this and swims over to the Lizard and helps him to the side, then asks the Lizard:
“What’s the matter with you?”
The Lizard explains to the Crocodile that he was sitting smoking a joint with the monkey in the tree, got too stoned and then fell into the river while taking a drink. The Crocodile says he has to check this out and walks into the jungle, finds the tree where the Monkey is sitting finishing a joint, and he looks up and says
“Hey!”
The Monkey looks down and says,
“Faaaaaaark!! - how much water did you drink?!!”
It’s been so long since I’ve been in here at all, I’d almost forgotten how to get in or what to do. I played with the templates for a while and decided on this one. It looks like a place I’d quite like to go one day. Or does it remind me of something, maybe a Monet painting. I don’t know. Managed to get my old posts from blogger in here too. That was an exciting thing for a technotard like me to do, all by my little ownsome. Considering I *still” can’t do code to save myself!
I’ve been lurking lately, not saying much anywhere at all. I kinda like the life of a lurker. Living on the fringes. Although lurking does come with its’ guilt at not commenting, kinda like not updating a blog comes with some guilt too. As if we don’t put enough pressure on ourselves in life.
One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice -
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
“Mend my life!”
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do -
determined to save
the only life that you could save.
I think I’m a reasonably intelligent person. Not Einstein, just reasonably intelligent. I hold a fairly important role within the organisation I work with. I can hold fairly intelligent conversations with people on a variety of subjects. I’m studying towards a Diploma in Business and getting good marks. And I’m always willing to learn.
Why then, am I apparently so fucking stupid when it comes to men. Well not “men” really, just one man.
When I discovered Marks’ deception all those months ago, apart from one very pissed off “I’m totally gutted with you” text and one phone call which he never answered, I was quite proud of the way I conducted myself. Hell, I even bought the book “It’s called a Break up, cause it’s Broken” and followed the rules in there. I didn’t make any contact with him, got rid of all his stuff outta the house, had a “fuck that was a lucky escape party”, put myself on a dating site and resolved to put him behind me and move on.
Why then, when he walked back into my house on May 13th last year, did my heart drop to my stomach and all those resolutions fly right out the window? Why, when he tells me he misses me so much, and to be patient with him and give him time, do I believe that and give him that time and patience?
At best, I think on some level a part of him does still care about me, at worst I’m just a booty call, and you know, if I was someone who was asked for advice on a situation like this, I know exactly what I would say. He doesn’t deserve you, and you deserve way better than what you’ve been given. Why in hell then can’t my heart catch up to what my head is telling me?
I’m treading water here, and just keeping my head above.
School started again last night. From 6-8pm on a Monday and Wednesday, I shall now be attentively learning about the New Zealand taxation system. Yeah right! Attentive? Me thinks I’ll have to continually poke myself with a pin to stay awake, but it’s all good – another one down. Only three (four?) to go to complete my Diploma.
Remember I posted a while ago about helping a friend move into a new house and the state that house was in? L’s decided to move her family back to Australia and is trying to get some furniture back from the woman with whom she swapped houses. I got a text last night from L …. “text message from filthy bitch. She left this house spotless and I am a loser” … colour me stunned. If that’s her interpretation of “spotless”, I’d had to think what she considers “dirty”. And L is no-where near being a loser than, well, me. I’ll miss you hun.
I know I should feel sympathetic, cause it really is no fun when you’re feeling ill and feeling nauseous 24/7 must be the pits. But really …how can one person sigh so much during the course of one day? Our office receptionist has recently discovered she’s pregnant … about four or five weeks I think she is, and if the last couple are any indication of things to come, it’s gonna be a loooong 40 weeks. Someone order my medal now!
I’ve been chatting to a guy off the dating site who actually seems quite normal. He assures me he doesn’t have a teddy bear collection, which is something of a relief. He’s quite witty, spells correctly and has sexy phone voice. Should I be concerned?
Has it really been a month since I’ve been in here … when you’re having fun in the sun, doesn’t time fly. See it’s summer here and it’s finally arrived. Yee ha! Yesterday we reached a sweltering 37oC (which according to the tricky dickey converter thingey I found, means it was 98oF). Either way, it was hot and muggy and necessitated doing some serious groveling to find a pool to cool off in. Said groveling required supplying wine to pool owner – which really isn’t a bad deal when ya think about it, cause I got to help drink it too.
Over the three week “Great New Zealand Shut Down” (Christmas/New Year holidays) I was a beach bum and had a superb time doing absolutely nothing; cept reading, eating, dwinking (shush), swimming and lying in the sun. Was damn hard work, let me tell you. But someone’s gotta do it, and I thought it was rude not to volunteer!
But of course, unless you win Lotto, reality inevitably comes and bites ya on the ass at some point. So it’s back to work (joy oh joy), and back to School in a couple of weeks (Taxation and Economic Principles will be interesting and enjoyable papers to take, won’t they?).
Got a few cool things to look forward to over the next few weeks to keep me entertained tho. Going to see Eric Clapton in concert this coming Saturday. (Bloody code!! - www.missionconcert.co.nz) Although someone asked me this morning why I wanted to go and see an old 1970’s washed up has-been. Apart from the fact this person knows me, he’s got no class so I’m taking his opinion with a grain of salt. The Mission Concerts are always fantastic events, although they did have Olivia Newton John last year – no, I did not go! Will let you know what it was like and, hopefully, take some pics of drunken louts grooving on down to Eric. I promise I won’t be one of them!
