Fun With A Kimono And A Car

It's Halloween tonight!!!

I am so excited up in here. Tonight I am dressing up as a Geisha who's been hit by a car. Yessss.

Supposedly there is a "Vampire Party" at Bar101, with free drinks for those in theme. Yasmin has suggested we make puncture holes in our necks and hope this constitutes as "theme". I hope so, but I dare say those dressed up like that awful girl from that awful movie, Twilight, will have a better chance. How lame. Trust 101 to get in on the lamest craze since Harry Potter.

Speaking of which, I have to read Harry Potter for a paper I'm taking in the summer to satisfy general education requirements. Can you believe that? There is a paper at Otago University about Harry Potter. I am so unimpressed.

Anyway, I'm pretty sure it's going to take me like, all day to get ready, so give me a few seconds and I'm outta here.

Have an awesome Halloween, yo.

Would They Do It In Paris?

Um, that title bears absolutely no relevance to what I'm about to write about, only that Emma is in Paris for her birthday, which is... TODAY! (Well, yesterday really...)

Yay. It's birthday season up in here. Emma is 26, and in Paris to celebrate (as you do...)
Did you guys know there are nearly 1500 photos of her on Facebook? Gooood.

Anyway, happy birthday Poolio, live it up, while we're young and beautiful!

xterraplanet

Ho, hum.

You may know that ITU World Championships was my last race. I won, and convinced myself that I was done with the competitive sport thing. I sold my road bike, my wetsuit, and I'm currently in the process of selling the bike on which I raced XTERRA NZ in April of last year.

On Sunday (October 25), the XTERRA World Championships were held in Maui, Hawaii. For most of last season, I intended completely to not only be at this event, but to win. Things took a turn for the worse when I didn't race the New Zealand qualifier, and before that, failed to do sufficient mountain bike training to prepare. So it went that the World Championships were contested without me (or Nic and Cabin, weirdly) there.

Eneko Llanos

Scott Thorne, that far-off relative of mine to whom I once frequently referred to proudly, placed 13th at the event. Not bad. XTERRA Worlds attracts some of triathlon's stars: Olivier Marceau, for example - that ridiculously good-looking French-turned-Swiss guy who was first out of the swim in the inaugural Olympic triathlon, way back in Sydney 2000. Conrad Stoltz was there too, one of the more prominent figures in offroad triathlon. Add Michael Weiss, and winner Eneko Llanos and you've got something of a who's who in XTERRA land. Nelson-based Richard Ussher was 11th in the event, but perhaps more impressively, New Zealand women won four of the ten age-group titles. Our men didn't fare quite so well.

Age-grouper Benjamin Dewitt

The reason I'm writing about it? Because I totally could have won my division! I raced winner Megan Fisher at ITU Worlds and smashed her in the swim. While we came off the bike at the same time, had it not been for that poorly timed abdominal strain along with cramp, I would have smashed her on the run, too. So now that's got me thinking: once my Master's is complete, should I go back?

I want to say no. I'll be 26 in 2012, and part of the reason I quit THIS year was so that, by 2012, I will have gotten over any sort of urge to go chasing that Olympic dream again. And that XTERRA dream. I wanted to win a world title, I did, so I stopped racing, and that should have been it.

But what if...

What if, in 2012, I'm still like "yeah, XTERRA World would be sweet." Do I go for it? Or do I look at things rationally and say, "hmm, no. ITU Worlds was my swan song. Get a real job." (And since the goal for 2011/12 is to be a successful and not-surviving-on-the-bones-of-my-butt JET instructor in Japan, I should already have a real job.) I suppose one never knows, really. By then I might be so gnarled up and old that I can't even ride a bike anymore, let alone over some of Hawaii's toughest terrain.

I think for now, in the words of Tim Prendergast, it needs to go into a black box under my bed, only to be taken out and delved into once I have my Master's degree in my hand.


Buuuuut... it is Hawaii...

How Times Have... Stayed The Same?

On May 2 of this year, I screenshotted my Google Chrome "Most Visited" page, and I just did it again, thinking that it would have changed wildly. It hasn't, really.

In May, it went like this:
1. Facebook
2. "Pretty" Mainstream (which was, as you may know, the name by which this blog went in the days before crazy girl stalked me)
3. iGoogle
4. KiwiBank
5. Wikipedia
6. Overheard in New York
7. Google Images
8. Sephora
9. University of Auckland

This was taken about five minutes ago. As you can see, it consists of the following sites:
1. Facebook. No surprises there.
2. Google (because my regular iGoogle is signed out right now)
3. KiwiBank
4. Wikipedia
5. Sephora
6. Texts From Last Night
7. University of Otago
8. Threadless

Is it just me, or is that pretty much exactly the same? I mean, my blog is not on there because I haven't visited it much at the new address, and Overheard in New York has been replaced with TFLN, while Otago has taken the place of Auckland.

Wow, I'm quite boring, aren't I?

Oh, And...

It's my best friend Jen's birthday today!!!

She is 24. Happy birthday lovely lady!

I stole this off her Facebook page - she is on the left, with Beth who is another friend of ours, who this year has been accepted into med school. Awesome.

I love my Jen :)

To iPhone, Or Not To iPhone

Thoughts?

Now, I know I'm a bit behind with the times here. iPhones are old news. But after being briefly separated from my own, most-hated cellphone today after a long and cold night in a barn in Ngaruawahia involving fake blood and a pompous guy singing ridiculous showtunes, I flirted with the idea of an iPhone. I must admit, it's rather tempting.

If I'd had my way when purchasing my laptop computer, I would have gone with a MacBook Pro. It's what Kirby uses, and after many an all-night jaunt at Wintec with her, playing on the iMacs and designing fake birth certificates along with invites to parties that never came to fruition, I was tempted to get one for myself. Like most grand plans in my life, however, finance didn't come to the party and I ended up with an entry-level Dell. I mean, it's not like I actually require anything else anyway, since all I do is play My Zoo on Facebook and write blogs.

I've only recently learned of the myriad of apps available for download on the iPhone. And after an afternoon wasted studying them, I now want one more than ever. In the "Education" section of the Apple Store alone, I saw about 100 apps I would like. I could supplement my Japanese tuition next year with one of at least a hundred apps dedicated to the language, as well as pass my literature paper with CliffNotes. There's a NASA app. There are apps with makeup tips. I could get carried away here. Do you think there could even be typography apps? There's one about Gandhi...

If iPhones had been around in 2006, I would have
had something better to do than learn the Periodic Table
during English class...

And I'm not even lying when I say I could afford this! Due to recent sales of prized personal possessions (oooh, alliteration. Love it), I'm in something of a position to not only buy one, but maintain its upkeep.

It's a nice thought... but then, so is going on exchange to the University of Iceland. So we'll see...

ilovetypography.com

Oh. My. Gosh.

I suppose I was quite ignorant in my assumption that dafont.com was the only site devoted to my constant need to look at fonts, in the same way that I thought I was the only person on Earth (this word is capitalised, right? Because it's the name of the planet, not like "world" or anything?) who enjoyed fonts. From a young age, I have enjoyed fonts. I know, I know. You've heard this before. I've also loved Japan since I was six, wanted to be an Olympian since 1988, and wanted to go to Stanford since the age of ten. And now, from the long list of "I grew up liking..." I bring you: fonts. Specifically Chicago. It was my first favourite... anything really. Except colour, which was red. ANYWAY. After being converted to Windows in 1997 (yes, I was originally an Apple girl!) I became a stalwart of Arial, which is why my blog is to this day published in Arial. I dislike Helvetica, and sometimes I feel like the only person who does! I also have problems with Times New Roman.

Other favourites have included McZee (from Creative Writer. Did you ever use that? It defined my childhood), and once that novelty wore off, Enchilada, and more recently, Bleeding Cowboys, The Maple Origins, Trashco, and of course, One Fell Swoop, which is in fact the typeface I've chosen for my next tattoo. You can imagine the fun I had designing Donny's birthday card last year. From memory, there are no less than seven fonts in it.

Then I discovered Robert Gould, and realised that I'm not the only typophile around. Gould, who designed one of my favourite Threadless tees, used Helvetica for the design, but I was able to forgive him for this when I found out about his typography habit. He went to see a film about the font. Not obsessed. And THEN I discovered ilovetypography.com. And typornography.com. You get the picture. There are a billion websites about fonts. I've found my niche (at least for the next few days. Next week, I'll probably be informing you about the breeding habits of the Beluga Whale).

It was at ilovetypography.com that I found the following image, which pretty much made my day (that, and the fact that two new Threadless tees showed up at my place this morning).

I don't agree with his font of choice, but you should probably note that when I screenshotted this image, the folder in which it appeared on Picasa was full of screenshots from dafont.com, one of a Geisha, and three of Carly Patterson performing her signature, round-off back handspring double Arabian front dismount. If anything, I <3 Carly.

Gooood.

Peace, love, and tattoos devoted to fonts, yo.

Lessons Learned

Awww, I do love a bit of Carrie Underwood!

Anyway, I've been on a bit of a Wiki-kick today (moreso than other days, even though it is my third-most visited site - behind Facebook and Google) and I've learnt about St Augustine of Hippo (or Blessed Augustine, as he is known amongst Orthodox Catholics), Japanese naturalization - very important for me, I'm sure you will agree, and about racism in Japan. Oh! And Japanese weddings. Crrrrazy. Not sure how keen I am for one of those anymore.

Anyway, Augustine seemed like a pretty interesting guy. He spent his life swinging from one extreme to the other - being raised as a Catholic, then delving into Hedonism, THEN becoming a teacher of grammar and rhetoric. He died as a Christian, and an angry one at that - through his life he battled with lust. Don't we all? Most of however, don't care. Anyway, I thought the funniest thing about the whole article was that after 370AD, when he began living life as a Hedonist, is was noted that he was influenced by "hooligans". Yes, there were hooligans, even before 400AD. I like ancient stuff. It's pretty cool.

You can become a naturalized Japanese citizen after living there for five years, provided you're keen to denounce your citizenship to the country from whence you came. Now, this is something of a conundrum, especially when you come from a country like New Zealand. I may have led you to believe, with all my musings about Japan, Iceland, Boone NC and Texas, that I don't like New Zealand. I do. New Zealand is cool, and there's nowhere else like it (except maybe... Iceland, apparently?). Australia's okay, but it's just not the same. What with all that dust, and desert, and those sheep shagger jokes (I don't get them anyway?)...

But I am constantly drawn to far-off lands by this funny thing I've come to know as wanderlust. As are so many young "Kiwis" (just for the record, I HATE the word Kiwi when used as a colloquial term for New Zealander. A Kiwi is a flightless bird, dammit! Not a person!) and that is precisely why so many people I know are scattered from Sydney to Stockholm (interestingly, I don't know anyone who's in Stockholm right now, but Steph's been there in the last month, and Mereoni leaves for Copenhagen soon).

We like to see what the world has to offer us, to test the waters, and then most of us return home. Home is where the heart is, and all that. And what a place to call home. We have it all here - except Sephora, but it seems like a small price to pay when I can drive thirty minutes to some of the best surf in the world, whereas some people in Europe and the United States have never seen the ocean. Another three hours, and I can be at Turoa, getting ski lessons (since I still haven't got around to learning, despite once proclaiming I was the next Bode Miller). Point is, if I were to denounce my New Zealand citizenship in favour of a Japanese passport, then suddenly, it becomes pretty hard for me to come home. Especially as until recently it was a government requirement to acquire a Japanese surname upon naturalization. Now, I'm all for being Miriam Inoue, but I don't know I'll feel about needing a visa to come back to the Land of the Long White.

We'll see, anyway. For now, I'm just earning enough money on My Zoo to buy an animal medical centre so I can start a breeding programme for my Golden Lion Tamarin monkeys. Being a zookeeper is exhausting work, guys!

Haha.

The Apple Of My Eye

OMG.

Do you guys LOVE stewed apple?

I know I do.

That's me, looking a bit worse for wear, and in a rare makeup-less and skinny jeans-less moment, chowing down an entire saucepan of stewed apple last night after having discovered it on the stove. Stewed apple just might be the food of the gods. Along with aioli, the world's most perfect condiment (which is, incredibly, even better when served by itself). Stewed apple + aioli? Hmm, I'm going to take a lesson here from Hamish Blake and say no. He discovered that mixing the food of the gods is not always ideal - lemonade and milk, specifically. I hate milk, so I don't have that problem... but I don't know, I think I love aioli too much to taint it with the flavour of something else... and I feel the same about stewed apple.

Anyway.

Tonight, I've found another saucepan full of stewed apple. Could these be the greatest days of my life? In fact, I'm recording this online simply so when I come back in a few days, complaining of how I hate my life and my dissertation proposal, I'll remember that once I had enormous amounts of stewed apple, and those days were worth living.

Halloween is soon, and since it's due to be my last night out in a while, it's going to be a cracker. Yasmin and I are going as roadkill. She's corpse bride, and I'm roadkill Geisha. I was going to be Cleopatra, but turns out we have this tacky tacky Thai kimono at my house which I can totally run over (for the roadkill effect) PLUS it means I get to do Geisha makeup. And THAT means Russian Red + Ruby Woo lips! Is this destined to be the greatest night of my life? I say yes.

Ah, Sayuri. Will you ever do me wrong?

Here's to bigger and better things! *clink*

Roflmao

At first I was really offended and upset that I had to move my blog because of this crazy girl, but the more I think about it, the more I am able to laugh.

Turns out we had someone in common. She was upset about it, I thought it was all a bit blown out of proportion. To be fair, how many guys have I declared my love for, via my blog? Let's see.
1. Donny. If anyone should be worried about stalking tendencies, it should be him, right? I mean, I used to drive past his house late at night. And he lives in a cul-de-sac.
2. Nayuha. Not quite stalky stalky, but that's only because we haven't had one of those inevitable relationship-souring moments (a punch in the face, maybe?). Fear not, readers. It's going to happen, one day.
3. Ryohei Komori. Don't even know the guy, but after seeing his photo, announced him to be my future husband. Stalking at its finest, enabled by the endearing Taylor Phinney.
4. Chris aka Ferry Guy aka Mr Cannondale/Pinarello. Do you guys REMEMBER that? Me sitting on the ferry, texting away after looking at his tshirt, getting people to trace him online? Google Mapping his place of work?
5. Yuichi Hosoda. Again, don't know him. Added him on Facebook, even went so far to say "I'll be going home with him in seven nights' time." Really?
6. Curtis. Sure, I don't stalk him, or love him, or anything... but the fact that I made mention of the fact that we were in bed while watching Harry Potter drew criticism from our crazy friend. Really? Because I BET you've never been in bed with our mutual friend... that would be almost criminal.

You see? There's six guys right there that I've mentioned, ad nauseum, on my blog at one time or another. Do not think, crazy girl, that your boyfriend is any sort of special case. He really isn't. If you need me to go on, I could mention that Punjabi guy I eyesex'd at Spotlight in Hamilton, my old German flatmate Chris, even Terenzo, or my childhood crush Jason Smith (I found his address in the phone book when I was seven years old and biked to his house). NOT A SPECIAL CASE.

Make no mistake, I did follow the guy in question home from the gym once, but not so closely that he noticed, and that I couldn't pass off our uncannily similar journeys home as visiting friends in the area. But that's hardly making him an elaborate birthday card, then having a breakdown the night before his birthday, after having stolen his neighbour's recycling bin a few months earlier, now is it? It's not tracking down his flight number and considering an airport rendezvous upon his return from India, is it? You want special case? Donny is a special case. If Donny had a girlfriend that emailed me abuse, I could probably understand it.

Luckily for me, Donny is incapable of keeping a girlfriend, so for now I have nothing to worry about. One only hopes that when he does manage to hold someone down, either it's me, or it's someone that doesn't mercilessly trawl the internet for my presence. And this girl calls me the stalker. Hmmm...

Detifoss

Today, I've been learning about Detifoss, Iceland's largest waterfall. Look at it! It's out of control! And can you believe that guy, standing casually on its bank? Does he have a deathwish!?

Detifoss is in Jökulsárgljúfur National Park in northeastern Iceland (you can find it on Google Earth or Maps). I'm not completely confident in my ability to say that word just yet, but I will. Iceland ranks pretty highly on my to-do list, and I don't feel comfortable going there, not knowing how to pronounce the name of their National Park.

It has the largest volume discharge of any waterfall in Europe (about 200m³/s) and I guess, compared with Niagara Falls' 2800 m³/s, it's not all that out of control after all. I've been to Niagara Falls twice, and I'm not exaggerating at all when I say it blew my mind. Have you been there? It's crazy. We loitered around at the top of the Horseshoe Falls there in 2005 and got wet from the spray, at least 100m from the banks. It's intense. After that we enjoyed curly fries at Hooters. We're classy.


I'm all excited about Iceland today because I've put some more crap up for auction on TradeMe. Recently, I sold my road bike and today I listed my beloved Safire (Artemis). I received what could only be described by Nic Magill as a more "princely sum" than I could have ever imagined for my Avanti, so I'm trying my luck with Artemis, along with a bunch of other stuff I no longer need or want. Sure, it should probably go in the Japan fund, but I casually told Curtis I could afford a trip to Iceland out of the profits, and then proceeded to learn as much as I could through Wikipedia. The world's most *reliable* source of information.

Currently I have twelve items for sale on my TradeMe page. There's my bike, two saddles (that dastardly thing Ritchie convinced me to buy, and my Ruby 143), my Garmin-Slipstream jersey, my sister's jodhpurs (I know, crazy?!), my Desperate Housewives boxed DVD set, a Johnny Cash DVD that I love but never watch, my sister's triathlon wetsuit (don't be fooled, she was never a triathlete, she just considered it for a long enough period of time to buy herself a wetsuit and a bike), a lamp, my vinyl copy of A Perfect Circle's Thirteenth Step (I'm convinced it's the reason I continue to dream about Donny. My mum suggested this afternoon that maybe he could buy it? Sob), my tow bar-mountable bike rack, and finally, my old DH knee and shin guards. Yeah, my TradeMe account is a mess, but I'm going to be rolling in cash by the end of this week. Provided people buy my shit, which they SHOULD! If you like the sound of anything I'm selling, go bid on it!

Finally: more threadless.com! Last night, I became a member, so I get to score other peoples' submissions. Being the design expert that I am, obviously. I'm also entitled to submit my own art destined for tshirt glory, but despite my early childhood (which, admittedly, strung out into high school, then re-entered my thoughts once it was time for university) dreams of being artistically talented in some shape or form, I'm actually pretty crap at it. Instead, I submitted a "slogan" for one of threadless' sister sites, typetees.com. Apparently out of 20 voters so far, I'm the only person who would wear a tshirt reading "Ain't nothing but a thang". Whatever. These people obviously haven't experienced the greatness that is Thom.


My friend Ben's service is to be live-streamed internationally online so those who can't make it to Ngaruawahia on Monday can watch it through their computers. Here's the link:
http://bit.ly/21Ud0f
It's not going to be a funfilled day, but at the very least it should be... nice. Somewhat, anyway.

Peace, love, and bankrupt Scandinavian islands, guys.

Zoo Elektra

Screw Farmville. My Zoo is where it's at.

Do ALL your friends on Facebook play Farmville? Because mine do, and even people on textsfromlastnight.com play, too. I went to visit Sophie at work the other day, and she harvested her Farmville fields while we ate sushi and reminisced about Ben.

I've long been a stalwart of not playing Facebook games. Sure, there was that week where I played Geo Challenge compulsively, eventually becoming #3 in New Zealand on the USA Tour, but I was sick, and lonely, and I haven't played since.

What then, am I up doing at 2:30am on Facebook?

My Zoo. It's Farmville, but worse. You start off with money, and you win challenges by doing what it tells you to (duhhh). I started off with a petting zoo with one Norwegian goat, or something along those lines, and got pretty excited shortly after when I built a marsupial enclosure and got some kangaroos. I then visited Sophie's Zoo (yes, Sophie plays My Zoo too) and was dismayed to see she not only has Norwegian goats, and kangaroos, but snow leopards, Malayan tapirs, and Chilean flamingoes. Sophie has 124 species at her zoo, compared to my 10. I'm feeling rather underwhelmed with my efforts now! Game on, Sophie.

Guess who else has a zoo? Thom. Hilariously, it's named "Radioactive Reptiles", which as you may remember, is the silly name our team went by for 48Hour. Thankfully, I'm in front of Thom on the My Zoo leaderboard. One hopes I could run a zoo better than him!

Anyway, it's still sixteen days until the Summer Session at uni starts, so until then, I have a new goal in life: to have the best zoo ever. It's on, like donkey kong (even though I don't have any donkeys on my farm, just exmoor ponies).

I Came To Dance

In light of the New Zealand Dollar's relative strength against the Greenback recently, I ordered four more tshirts from threadless.com yesterday. This is, for the record, on top of two I ordered on October 7th. Slightly ridiculous? Maybe. But at least now I have a shirt for every day of the week (on top of the fifty I already own? Yeah, okay).

Apparently, I'm Jillian Nickell's newest #1 fan, as I ordered both of her threadless.com designs - Alice's Sewing Basket (previously written about here) and Playground Joust.

Gooooood. Also in my cart: Rainforests, by Yeoh Guan Hong, and Juliet by Lim Heng Swee. And then there's the other two shirts which should be arriving very soon: that ridiculous pink one by Robert Gould, a fellow typography nerd that says "i came to dance" in Helvetica font (yeah!) and the one pictured below...

True Love Will Find You In The End, by Si Scott

Mainly I like the swan - I'm not so sold on the phrase. Maybe it's true, but I have yet to see any evidence of this. And anyway, what's the point of true finding you "in the end"? Doesn't that suggest that you're about to die as you find it? Depressing. Still... something to look forward to.

Now, if Sephora had international shipping, then maybe I wouldn't buy so many tshirts. I would probably buy more mascara (I recently acquired Imju's Fiberwig, from Japan) anyway, so maybe it's a good thing. Although, I just found out that the qualification that will allow me to teach in Japan (post-Masters) is like, $1000, so I'm not really doing myself any favours either way. Sigh.

Oh well. I'm having fun.

I Am Alive

Today's blogger of note: Erin O'Brien.

Her profile statement reads simply: I am alive.

Well, that's a start. For the last few weeks, I've been sick, and sad, and feeling like I'm somewhere in the middle. Recently, my days have been virtually melting into one another, leaving me mostly confused about the date, time, and other aspects of consequence.

This afternoon, for no reason other than being so bored my brain started to hurt, I fell asleep and had about the most realistic dream I've ever had. Of course, it featured Donny, and unfortunately I awoke under the guise that we were friends again. Luckily, reality kicked in before I got a hold of my cellphone. Gah. Can you imagine? That would have been a complete and utter disaster.

I have a funeral to attend on Monday, and one I am not looking forward to. I've long considered myself lucky as for the vast majority of my life, I've gone about blissfully unaware of the consequences of death. Of course, when I was sixteen, a close friend died in heartbreaking circumstances, but before then, and since then, things have been going swimmingly. All of a sudden, two weeks ago, Ben got on the back of someone's motorcycle, they hit a wall, and since then we've been struggling to accept that one of the brightest stars no longer shines. And I'm not just crapping on about this because he was my friend, either.

Ben was, by all accounts, an exceptional young man. He left school, having completed seventh form (and graduating as Proxime Accessit, no less) while we were in sixth form. He spent a year in England on GAP year, before returning here to complete a Bachelor of Management Studies at Waikato University, as a Hillary Scholar. He excelled at hockey (playing for no less than three teams at once through most of high school) as well as at judo. And he did all of these things without managing to be a wanker. I think he kissed more of my friends than anyone else I know - at the time I considered him to be a manwhore. Now I see that he was just making the most of life, in the same way that he was when he told me he danced so hard at a club after work one night in London (where he was working as a graduate auditer at Deloittes, since early 2008) that he wore a hole in his work pants. That's Ben. Make no mistake. He who works hard, parties harder.

So it is with a heavy heart that I must attend this service to say goodbye to my friend (and, funnily enough, the first boy who ever held my hand... awww). And until then, may all my days melt into one another. I miss Ben.

That Which Does Not Kill Me, Makes Me More Of A Douche.

Now, I like to think I don't commentate on celebrity life alllll that often. Sure, I once posted a blog named "I Have An Entire Photo Album On Picasa Dedicated To Lauren Conrad", and I gave a review of Heidi Montag's revolting wedding, but in general, I am far too self-obsessed to blather about the lives of those with more money, better looks, and more cameras following them.

Until now, and that's because I am ready to drive a stake through Kanye West's torso. Seriously, WHO IS THAT GUY?!

Admittedly, one of my favourite running songs is "Stronger" - but to be fair, that was a Daft Punk song anyway, so it doesn't count. Kanye West is a big douchebag. I steered away from commenting on his ridiculous antics at the VMAs earlier this year, when he upstaged one of my faves, Taylor Swift. It's been covered in all forms of media - the news, social networking, the blogosphere - ad nauseum, but I would just like to add my support to the droves of people that thought that was pretty much the most disrespectful and gross display of narcissism, ever. WHO CARES if you thought Beyonce's video was better, man? You weren't on the voting committee, and if your opinion was really so important, you would have been. So, shut the fuck up.

That mostly blew over, until the "Ima let you finish, but... *insert name here* was the best *insert event here* ... of all time" became the most popular catch phrase of 2009. Seriously?

So now, since it's all died down, Kanye has been blasted into irrelevant oblivion, where he belongs. He's been replaced on Twitter by "Paranormal Activity", The World Series, and of course Balloon Boy (don't even get me started on Balloon Boy. Should those parents NOT be in jail? Urgh). Until yesterday, when he attempted to fake his own death, via his website, in an attempt to become culturally relevant again. Sorry Kanye, you still suck, and you're still that guy who stole the microphone off Taylor Swift at the VMAs. You're still a douche.

It amazes me that people think this guy is a genius. I'm sorry, but this is not the way geniuses behave. This is the way people with clinical mental disorders, such as Narcissistic Personality Disorder (it got mentioned in class while I was at Otago, so naturally, I'm now an expert - ha ha) behave. APOLOGISING IN CAPITALS DOESN'T HELP EITHER, you loser.

I don't know about you, but I wish Kanye West would fuck off and die.

Holy Smack! It's October!

It totally slipped past me.

I mean, obviously it didn't really, because five of the six October events I was crowing about all year have already passed, and the final one is tonight, but you know what I mean, right?

There was the Olympic City naming: Rio de Janeiro
Levi's Gran Fondo: a raging success from what I've heard
Bad Religion: fantastic, oh.
Christchurch holiday: well, so-so. I was sick the entire time and also received news of Ben's accident while I was there so...
My brother's 21st: yay!

So tonight is the Michael Jackson tribute party. I don't know how I feel about it. Since I heard about Ben, I've been swinging between the two ideas of a) reverting back to my old, anti-social ways and b) living it up, Ben-style. Right now, the former seems like a pretty good option so you can imagine I'm in two minds about even going. That said, I'm already committed to making up two friends for the night, so I kind of have to.

Urgh.

I've spent a couple of days hanging out with Ben's family this week. We've been close since I first became friends with Ben, ten years ago, so it's been nice to feel like in some small and mostly insignificant way that I'm helping them cope. Of course, naturally, it's largely been the other way around. Ben's sister, whose makeup I did for the Waikato Law Ball earlier in the year, has amazed me in the last week with her ability to deal with this loss (and you need only to read any one of the articles or notices in the paper here to understand just what a loss it is). I love her and her family.

In fact, even though I've been planning this for some time (the initial "draft" was completed mid-August), Ben's departure has further motivated me to sort myself the hell out, and I'm stoked to finally announce that I'm going to be returning to the University of Otago for the Summer session, and then for another year before I fuck off to Japan. Future-proofing my life, if you will. I've sold the bikes, I'm done chasing the elusive happiness-through-victory-in-sport dream. I'm growing up and getting a grown-up life for myself, so I can pursue dreams of the professional nature. So, they're kinda new dreams, but hopefully dreams that will create a life for me that will be more fulfilling than medals and shin splints. So, a month from now, expect to hear a lot less from me in terms of blog posts, and hopefully a lot more in terms of contribution to the chemical community (ooh, I like how that sounded). AND, most importantly, I've enrolled in some Japanese papers, so I won't need to take Nayuha to the supermarket with me every day once I get there. Future-proofing my life. Thanks, Ben... not only for that, but for everything. I miss you. xxx

Now that's something everyone can enjoy.

An Evening With Bad Religion

It's taken more than a week for me to get my ass onto reviewing this, but as you may know, I WENT TO BAD RELIGION LAST SUNDAY NIGHT! It was at Auckland's Town Hall, where I also saw Serj Tankian perform with the Auckland Philharmonia in March.

There were three openers (yes, for the purpose of this post I will refer to NOFX as openers), including the surprisingly impressive Pour Habit, out of Compton, California. These guys were fun and energetic, and one song was even performed while the vocalist balanced on his head. Yeah, you read that right.

NOFX were as offensive as ever: "I don't mean this in an offensive way, but fuck Peter Jackson" is just one example of this. There were Mexican jokes, German jokes, jokes about Christchurch, jokes about your face. I'm not a huge NOFX fan, nor have I ever been, but they were clearly well-received by the unshowered punk kids who filled the auditorium. Highlight: when they played Reeko, which was the only song I recognised.


It wasn't until a man clad in a black polo shirt and jeans - who I immediately recognised as Greg Graffin - took the stage, that my heart skipped a beat. Yes, kids. I had a moment because I was in the same room as him. You know you're a bit different when a 44-year-old guy from Wisconsin can have that effect on you. Immediately, Bad Religion broke into Los Angeles Is Burning, a song I hadn't heard in too long, since someone (named Sally) stole my copy of "The Empire Strikes First". It was then announced that something was wrong with the guitars - something Greg blamed on the members of Slayer, who were playing the following night. There was a ten-minute interlude during which Greg sat on an amp and bantered. In other words, he made my night.

A prepared-earlier shot of Greg from a show in NJ two years ago

"We'd like to welcome you to an evening with Bad Religion" he announced, once the guitars were sorted. From that moment I don't think the ridiculous grin left my face until he left the stage at the end of the night. To my absolute delight, the final song performed was Sorrow, one of my original favourites, from "The Process Of Belief". Greg announced during the show that his band had been playing shows for nearly 30 years - and that just adds to my admiration for them. That a band can continue to produce socially and culturally relevant music for three decades is just out of control. To that end, songs were performed from all three decades. Another favourite (is it starting to sound like every Bad Religion song ever is my favourite?) Do What You Want, from 1988's "Suffer", Punk Rock Song - which proved a crowd favourite - released in 1996, to songs from the most recent album "New Maps Of Hell" made for a set rich in variety.

My only sticking point? That Materialist wasn't performed, but I quickly got over that. Highlights: the entire set. When Greg dumped Fat Mike on the ground (the NOFX frontman crashed BR's set and jumped on Greg's back partway through a song). As previously mentioned, when Sorrow was played. I like to think Greg sang "will you guide me now, for I can't see..." to me. One more lowlight: when the set finished. I kind of wished it would go on forever. I wish I was still there now.

Being the teeny-bopper I am, I had to get some merchandise. I wanted to make up for not attending their 2007 New Zealand show, and then some. So I bought myself a Bad Religion hoody, which got some weird looks on the plane the other night. I am so far from concerned about my clothing offending people right now, though. Especially considering there were at least 20 metallers donned in Slayer and Megadeth shirts, which in my opinion is far more offensive.

Anyway, I'm a content Bad Religion fan for now. In your face, Donny.

By The Way

I'm in a huge muddle of mixed emotions and feelings right now... so before I forget, I want to congratulate my little brother Sam on his 21st birthday!! YAY! Happy birthday Sam. You make me so proud.


Yes, I am going to write a piece on the amazing Ben Gilby-Todd, but not until I can hold myself together sufficiently. I want to do him justice. Love. xxx

Return Of The MAC

Ha ha! I hate that song.

After my wee MAC binge at Brisbane airport last month (yes, it's been a month since Worlds), I did plan on cutting back on makeup purchase and focusing on saving some coin so I can move to Japan sooner rather than later.

Well, that all went out the window on Sunday.

I'm sick at the moment - I want to say sicker than I've ever been. Getting out of bed is a stretch, because every single joint screams at me, along with my stomach, heart, lungs, as well as my brain - which currently feels like a pressure cooker. So it's a wonder I even got to the MAC store in the first place, but once I did, I felt momentarily better.

Do you remember Dazzle Lash? Yes, it first appeared on my blog almost a year ago, but that's how long it's taken for it to firstly reach our fair shores and secondly for my bank balance to allow my purchasing it. And now, I'm happy to announce that I am the proud owner of MAC Dazzle Lash mascara. Excited much? I am. I may have also bought some long-desired Lipglass - in Russian Red. Know what I like about it? It's glossy, but with a tonne of pigment, so it's not some half-assed whore-ish red tint. It is RED. Teamed up with Ruby Woo, it's going to be the biggest statement my lips have ever made.

For a while I've had Violet Trance, a true purple eyeshadow, in my sights. Every time I visit a MAC store, I pick it up. I play with it. I apply some, check it in the mirror, and I like what I see. Then I think, mmm, probably I don't really need this. And I put it back. On Sunday I did all of the above, but then I picked it back up, and paid for it. So expect photographic evidence of my latest fave - violet smoky eyes.

And that was my wee spend-up. And, I know I've said this before, but I'm actually going to start saving now.

Starting next week...

Stalkers Brought Me Here

No lies.

PLUS, I've had a heap of drama recently, from a close friend being killed in a motorcycle accident (love forever, Ben xxx), to being away from home, to being stalked. Yep, the tables turned. I had it coming.

And here we are.

I am going to fix up the format and stuff, but it took me two hours just to import and edit my old posts, so that can wait.

Peace, love, and safe roads. xoxo

Reason To Love Taylor Phinney #3874

Good.

Recently, UCI announced an upheaval of the Olympic Track Cycling programme. The most notable? The omission of events like the Madison, Points Race, and Taylor's own Individual Pursuit. Brain explosions! Instead, they're introducing an Omnium, which is great for Hayden Godfrey, but not so good for the slew of guys who have made cycling 4000m full throttle their specialty.

You might have already gathered from previous blog posts that Taylor is one of my faves. He's freakin hilarious, and seems to be somewhat personable, while maintaining machine-like qualities on the track and road (demonstrated so well by his 4:15 IP in Denmark earlier this year, and at the Junior Paris-Roubaix). But wait, there's more. This guy is honest, too. He's just gone and put his intentions out there, and now it's only a matter of time before he can cross that world record off his list, and likely become one of the hottest commodities in professional road racing. An Olympic track cycling gold might evade him, but there's definitely brighter things on his horizon.


Onto a lighter subject... what colour should I paint my nails today? I'm thinking "Keys To My Karma"...

Night Train

Cool, and that will work out for you because YOU'RE A GUY.

Can you imagine if I left everyone behind to win Donny back in... well, the bowling alley? Wouldn't happen. I saw some Sex And The City quote recently (not from watching it, because I refuse to, but on Becky's Facebook) about how grand gestures by a guy are romantic, but by a girl they're considered desperate or psycho. It's freaking true! Not that I'm feminist or anything, but like, give us a break!! Yeah, okay so I am a little bit psycho, probably considerably moreso than the rest of the female population who have considered a grand gesture...but we mean well! Gah. Anyway, to the guy who is going to San Francisco, good luck. Though I dare say, if she wanted to be won back, she probably wouldn't have left you in the first place.

Anyway.


It was announced this morning (New Zealand time) that Rio de Janeiro will host the 2016 Olympic and Paralympic Games. Good. Seriously, as long as Chicago didn't win, I was going to be happy. And I'll happily admit that while I was a staunch supporter of the Tokyo campaign, I'm quite content with the Olympics going to Brazil. I mean, the Athletes Village in Tokyo looked kinda crappy anyway. Rio is sure to pull off the most stupendous Olympics ever, if you ask me. If anyone knows how to party, it's Brazilians.

As for me, I'll be 30, old and haggard by then anyway, so I'm not really considering it as some sort of goal. Instead, I've started planning my assault on the International Olympic Committee, of which I dream of being president. Yesss.

Oh, and here's some photos from Worlds, since I never got around to posting them earlier. Check out my fat legs! Not a good look.

Apologies to those who are my Facebook friends, because you will have probably seen these photos already, splashed all over my profile page. Hahaha. On a related note, I'm getting interviews by ITU (International Triathlon Union) for their newsletter, which is quite exciting for me. Especially considering my own local paper did not run a story about my win. Boo.


Guess what tomorrow is?!

Yes, yes, bitches... I'M GOING TO BAD RELIGION! And also NOFX, but I am really quite considerably less excited about the latter. Bad Religion!!! I actually can't believe it. It's shaping up to be the best night ever. EVER!

Peace, love, and new maps of hell, guys.

Off The Grid

When I move to Japan, I intend to open a new blog account and call it "There's No Place Like Kagawa" - Kagawa prefecture being where my starfish Nayuha lives, and as such where I intend to take up residence. Today, however, I decided that maybe the old adage is true, maybe there is no place like home. Or, at the very least, there's nothing like a shower.

On Monday Thom and I drove to "Skyland", a powerless, running water-less cabin in the hills behind Katikati to shoot for his third-year film project, "Labour Weekend". We were joined by his crew from Wintec, Luke, and some other friends of Thom's until this afternoon. We did in fact have running water, at times, as well as some electricity in short supply. We also had cellphone coverage. And lots of fun.

I always rave about 48 Hours weekend, and how it was the most fun I've ever had in my life, but this week I've come to realise that Thom is the most fun I've ever had. The man is without doubt the funniest person in my life. He has to be experienced to be believed. Explaining to people why "ain't nothing but a thaaang" makes me laugh so hard I stop breathing just isn't the same as hearing it for yourself.

Not everything went to plan - something student filmmakers are a little more adept to coping with than your average bear. There was the glitch in the matrix that saw one of our SD cards delete itself, requiring us to re-shoot 57 minutes of footage. Good. There was the intermittent weather - something Thom coped with in advance by writing two scripts - one for summer and one for winter. There was the small matter of not having power. We shot without a monitor, and at night hooked up the softbox and lights to a generator which sounded more like a lawnmower than a source of power. After the SD card debacle, we made sure to format the shots directly after shooting so as not to lose them. Pedantic? A little. But in the long run, a better plan than spending another week without a shower.

Which brings me to my next point: cleanliness. Or lack of, as the case was. In the past, the longest I've gone without a shower has been less than 24 hours. I like showers. I like exfoliating, I like shaving, I like coating myself completely in bubbles from shower gel and then rinsing it off and doing it again. I don't like washing my hair, but it has to be done. You can imagine then, this last week has been a bit of a stretch for me (in more ways than one - I survived on giant cookies). I managed to return home without smelling like a three-week-old egg sandwich left in the sun, but I was not a happy camper. Neither is the skin on my face. Trip to the Albany Dermalogica bar? Required.

I don't know. Most of the time that I was there, I was laughing at Thom too much to think about how bad I might have smelt. Feeling grim? Find the funniest and most inappropriate person you can, and go away with them for a few days. Right now, I think I might even be the happiest I've ever been. Big call? It was a big week.


At 5:30am Saturday, New Zealand time, the 2016 Olympic City will be announced. Am I the only person in the world counting down to this moment? Maybe. But it's exciting! I'm still backing Tokyo for the win.


With all that said, it's time for me to get some much-needed beauty sleep (you should see the drug rashes on my face right now. Good) so good night, internet land.

Seven Days

Until BAD RELIGION!!!

I still can't believe I'm going! Like, Rage Against The Machine is my favourite band, and I nearly died when I saw them play last year, but on Sunday I get to see Bad Religion, and Greg Graffin (who I am totally naming one of my cats after, when I become an old cat lady)! GREG GRAFFIN, guys! The man is a genius.

Okay, enough exclamation marks, and time for some stupid quote from town last night.

*five minutes after arriving, Miriam runs out of Furnace onto the sidewalk*
Bouncer: um, stop, you can't be outside with your drink.
Me: no, it's okay. I'm just checking the registration number of that Caldina.

*on the dancefloor*
Random guy: wow, you two must be really good friends.
Me: actually, na I just met her last week!

*minutes later*
Manda: *drunken banter*
Random guy: did she just ask if you're going to take me home?
Me: haha! Who are you kidding? I only like Asian guys!
Random guy: *takes off*

*at the casino*
Manda: do you even want a relationship? Or do you just like pissing people off?
Me: *thinks really hard*

*this morning*
Cellphone clock: 06:50am
Me: fuck off, I got home at five.


We had a good night. I wasn't the stumbly, incoherent drunk one, instead I took the role of mildly drunk, lippy white girl. Nice. I think I offended my fair share of white guys. I'm also told that I'm still a little too muscly to pull off my shorter haircut. The problem is, that old "once a swimmer, always a swimmer" adage is totally NOT true, unless you're a shoulder muscle. You bastards.
On a more exciting note, my eye makeup (Electric Eel smoky eyes) was hailed a success, despite it not looking quite as good as my practice from the other night. Yes, I do practice my eye makeup on weeknights in. I'm a makeup artist, I'm allowed to.

After the unexpected success of my foray into bike selling on TradeMe, I'm putting my other bike (gasp, yes - the Specialized) up for auction this week. It's worth a fair bit more than my road bike was, so I'm optimistic about how much money I can make towards my Japan airfare (and maybe a few drinks the weekend after. I owe Becky and Manda a few). That said, if you want an '08 Specialized Safire, check out my TradeMe listings on Wednesday night. Also going under the proverbial hammer: my iPod (I want a Nano! They shoot film now. Handy), and whatever else I can find that people might shell out coin for.


On a sidenote, to Internet Explorer: yes, I know my Facebook, Twitter and Blogger pages are in Japanese, and no I do not want to translate them! Oh, look. It's going to do it EVERY TIME I GO ON FACEBOOK. Good on you, Internet Explorer. *changes browsers*


That's all for now. I wanted to report on the supreme success of my future husband, Ryohei Komori, in his race at Worlds, but... unfortunately it did not go so well for him. That's okay! We've all come 71st at an international competition before. He's still fantastic.

November Calling

I know I've been crowing on about how fantastic October is going to be for the last six months, and it is:
October 2: 2016 Olympic City named
October 3: Levi's Grand Fondo
October 4: BAD RELIGION
October 6-12: Holiday in Christchurch
October 13: Sam Ashby (my "brother") turns 21
October 17: Michael Jackson tribute party, organised by Sandeeka and Priya

Can't see the Tour of Southland in there? Yeah, well. That's because I'm stupid, and it's actually in November.
November 2-7: Tour of Southland
November 2-9: Asia-Oceania Zone Wheelchair Rugby Championships

Depending on who you are, you may or may not be aware of my all-conquering obsession with wheelchair or "quad" rugby that dominated me until about 2007. Shortly before the Olympics in 2004, I was even quoted in the newspaper as saying I was more excited about watching quad rugby in Athens than I was about swimming. Good one. I spent years volunteering at rugby tournaments, culminating in the biggest one of all - World Championships, in 2006 in my then-hometown of Christchurch. I spent a week living and breathing quad rugby - I was at the stadium every day from 7am until late at night, running around doing things for people, cleaning floors, posting results, pumping up tyres and balls, and of course, trying to flirt with players.

Anyway, I don't really know what happened afterwards, but I think the NZ vs USA final (where I was removed from scorebench for cheering for the Americans) was the last game of rugby I watched. It mostly disappeared from my radar, and I don't even know who won the Paralympic final last year.

Out of nowhere, Naomi (who I used to run with while living in Christchurch, and who has since moved home to Ireland) announced that she'll be in New Zealand in November for the Asia-Oceania Zone Championships. Surely, I thought to myself, it won't be on the same week as the Tour of Southland, where I'm due to meet my future husband, Ryohei Komori. There are four weeks in November. They won't hold two events that I need to be at during the same week.

Ryohei

Of course they will. Who am I kidding? OF COURSE these events are on at the same time, in cities too far apart to drive between.


So now I'm faced with the following predicament: head to Invercargill to watch cycling, or give Naomi a hand at the rugby event in Christchurch. I feel kind of like it's old versus new. Ryohei versus a bunch of guys I knew before I was 20, and who consequently remember me as a flaky, miniskirt-wearing blonde.

Guys from my past: Nick Springer and Shinichi Shimakawa

I'm really quite up in arms about this. Help?

To Frances With Love

I just heard the heartbreaking news that my friend Frankie's little brother Edward died after falling through ice on Mt Rolleston in New Zealand's South Island.

I can't even begin to imagine what that's like for Frankie and her family, so I'm just sending my best thoughts and wishes her way, and I hope you all will, too.

But It's Better If You Do

According to Alice from Closer, lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off.

I beg to differ.

I spent a bit of money on makeup last week. Not as much as I planned, which required a LOT of self control, but a little bit.

Before even leaving New Zealand, my mum and I both bought some Chanel lipgloss (I think I have four now...) of the Aqualumiere variety. Mmm, so shiny. Props to my mum, who in her lifetime has probably spent less than what it costs me to get a manicure at that cheap Asian salon in town on lipgloss, who shelled out for her first luxury brand makeup. In what might have been the biggest spend in her life, she also bought some Yves Saint Laurent Touche Eclat concealer, which I'm sure I'll be applying for her daily because try as she might, she cannot master the technique I've demonstrated a thousand times for under-eye concealing.

In Brisbane airport I was further tempted by the new Dior limited edition eyeshadow palette, "Night Butterfly".

I'm convinced it is the most beautiful palette ever made. I saw it again at Myer on the Gold Coast, and AGAIN in the departure lounge at Brisbane, but for the life of me I couldn't justify spending $94 on eye makeup. Even though it is SO pretty. Sorry, Christian.

I couldn't resist MAC though. I never can. I bought some Studio Moisture Tint (incredible stuff. Really. You should try it.), and two lipsticks - Ruby Woo ("vivid bluish-red") and Angel ("soft pink"). And bam! Just like that, I was $122 worse off. Or better off? My lips are, anyway.

Interestingly, I haven't worn either of the shades out yet, because I've been too busy sporting my Pro Longwear Lipcolour in Clingpeach. It's a bit more gym-friendly. Yes kids, I hit the gym today, despite having nothing to train for! Unsurprisingly, my workout didn't last long.

And FINALLY, this weekend we can rejoice and celebrate my return to staying up past midnight!

Yeah, I know. I stay up past midnight every night, but this weekend I'll be doing it with Becky, and it will be chaos. If I can't have Yuichi Hosoda, then I'll settle for some other unsuspecting Japanese guy in the clubs this weekend. Or Thai. Or Chinese. Just whatever.

It's only Tuesday. I'm a sad, sad little person.

Home Again

Wow.

I arrived home from the Gold Coast this morning at about 2:30am and I was (I still am) a tired, sore, a little bit grumpy, and disoriented wreck. We traded 26-degree sun for a fog, and right now at 10:30am it's grey and grim outside.

Not quite the welcome back I might have hoped for...

If you follow me on Twitter, you might already know that I won my race on Saturday at the ITU World Triathlon Championships. It was the result I've been dreaming of since about 2003, but of course like everything in life I didn't have it all my own way.

Actually, maybe I should start from the very beginning - the Aquathlon. Firstly, that's a stupid word and it's borderline impossible to say without sounding like a retard, but anyway. I found myself on the start line of this event on Wednesday afternoon at 4pm, not really knowing what the hell I was up to. I was the only Paratriathlete (a newly-coined term developed for triathletes with disabilities) entered, and since there was no provision for this, I was due to race against everyone else, in my age group.

Uh oh?

I got off to a pretty comfortable start and had the surprise of my life when I started passing people in the first 2.5km run. I felt a combination of confused and excited, but it wasn't until the 1km that things really started to work out for me. Within 200m, I had passed at least 20 girls in the water and I'd lost count. Feeling pretty stoked with myself, I headed out on the second run with an inflated sense of self.

A couple of girls passed me back in the final run, which sucked, but I managed to get my finishing sprint on and complete my race strongly, so overall I felt like a pretty happy camper. Later on in the afternoon I checked my result online and found I hadn't come last (yay), in fact I'd beaten two other girls in my 20-24 age group, as well as 48 other women in the event. I felt like I had it all made for Saturday, and spent my last two days before the race fine-tuning in the pool and on the bike. I mostly ignored a niggling calf injury, after all, most of my life is spent battling with this - it comes with the territory when you run like a spaz.


On Saturday morning I rose at 4:20am, with a 6:45am race start. I went about my morning routine as usual, pedantic as ever, and by race start I was raring to go, convinced I had the entire field in the bag.
And for 1500m, I did. I was out of the swim more than four minutes before the next girl (I was fourth overall out of the water, behind a guy with a "vision impairment", a below-knee amputee, and a guy with something else wrong with him who managed to overtake me in the last 50m), but a crappy transition where I struggled with my wetsuit, my bike, my chocolate milk, meant that people were going to be catching me sooner than anticipated.

I rode what felt like an amazing bike leg, though I admit I felt quite daunted by the increasing number of age group athletes (their waves started 20 minutes after mine) on fancy bikes out on the course. Seriously, age group athletes take themselves very seriously. So seriously in fact that it's a little bit sad. I saw guys on $15,000+ bikes with disc wheels and other adornments not even seen in the elite ranks. It was a little ridiculous.

After completing my 40km, I ran through the longest transition ever, bike in tow, and went about sorting myself out for the 10km run ahead of me. It all went pretty well for about 2km until I was unexpectedly shot down with unbearable stomach pains. I'm serious, I was on the brink of tears for another 2km before I sorted myself out. By now the sun was out in full force, the road was hot, the crowds were huge and vocal. Since we had our surnames printed on our uniforms (a stupid ITU rule), some spectators even cheered me on by name. But I did not have fun on the run. Some of the roads in Queensland are banked, undetectable if you're on a bike or in a car, but enough to piss you off when you're busting your ass trying to win a gold medal. I struggled, but the second lap was definitely more successful than the first, and I felt a surge of relief when I saw the next competitor in my division heading out on her second lap when I was entering the final 300m. And then, for whatever reason, everything disappeared and I was able to pull out one of those marvellous sprint finishes that I really shouldn't have been able to, given the conditions of my run.

Upon crossing the finish line I was handed a finisher's medal and accosted by several of our team managers who seemed determined to cater to my every need - one even took off my race timing chip for me. I was kind of looking forward to bending over and doing that, but never mind.


So then my Worlds was all over and now I'm a curled-up ball of tight muscles and unwashed hair. Mmm.


What's next?

Why Am I All Sparkly?

Seriously, I feel like a pageant baby.

Anyway, I just had something else to say...

Here in Aotearoa, we're only a few weeks into cycle eleven of America's Next Top Model. I am obsessed beyond reason with this show, and I just don't know why. It's so crap, the girls aren't that pretty, etc etc.

Anyway, last night's episode was the one where they did the photoshoot in the pool with uber-hottie Nigel Barker (oh, NOW I remember why I watch it) and only their eyes were showing. Sheena and Lauren Brie were my favourites, and here are their photos.

Their makeup is beyond stunning!!

I also love Lauren Brie's skinny arms. Seriously, once this triathlon business is over, I'm going on Operation Skinny Arms. If it means never lifting a weight (or eating) again, I'll do it.

Twenty Twenty Twenty-Four Hours To Go

Yep, this time tomorrow I'll be ten minutes into a flight across the Pacific to the Gold Coast.

I'm so excited!

I'm also pretty chuffed about the fact that I just got some ModelCo Polished Exfoliating Body Scrub for $10 (it was supposed to be $55, but the pump doesn't work). Yuss. I've wanted this stuff for so long.

Today is my last day off before I race. Here's my week...

Monday: train here, then fly
Tuesday: bike reassembly, then training
Wednesday: Aquathlon race
Thursday: race briefing, then training
Friday: training, then bike racking
Saturday: race!

Saturday afternoon will be spent watching the elite men's race, which involves none other than...

Yuichi Hosoda! And I think he has now surpassed Ryohei Komori in the number-of-photos-on-my-blog stakes. That said, when Ryohei comes down here in November, expect entire galleries of him.

Anyway, apparently our accommodation doesn't have wireless, which is ever so clandestine, so this might be the last you hear out of me for a week. I'm sure you'll enjoy the peace, anyway.

Have you guys seen Closer? It. Is. So. Good.

Old, but good. I'm one of the mainstream populace who adores Natalie Portman, and I also kind of like Jude Law (I'm pretty sure Dickie in The Talented Mr Ripley is the greatest role in motion picture, ever) so I've long been obsessed with this movie. And, unlike Sixteen Candles, the Fall Out Boy song written in its honour isn't the only good thing about it. Ha ha. He tastes like you, only sweeter. One day I am going to use that line. Another fantastic quote from Closer is "have you ever seen a human heart? It looks like a fist, wrapped in blood." Awesome.

Natalie Portman, though. Is she the most perfect being on the face of the earth?

Yes. I do believe she is. My favourite role of hers is as Sam in Garden State. I don't know if that's because I'm told Sam is kind of like me, but either way. Natalie gets two thumbs up from me.

Anyway, the reason I'm prattling on about this film (yes, there is one!) is because it was on last night, and it reminds me of someone. Said person texted me this morning and asked if I was thinking about them last night, because they couldn't sleep.

Boo hoo.

This week, on PostSecret...

Okay, then. Firstly, you spelt "fantasise" wrong, but that's not what drew me to this card, and I'll tell you what did.

Those red lips are so perfect it makes me want to cry! Seriously, pictures like this make me want collagen injected into my top lip.

Also, quit fantasising and go buy some cocaine. And always remember, sharing is caring.


That's all for now, folks. Have a beautiful week, and I'll post an update of any progress made with Yuichi Hosoda in a few days' time.

Love and light. xo

Stop Press: A Straightening Product That Actually Works

A week or so ago, I wrote a post about my new Redken shampoo and conditioner. I'm happy to report that they are still fabulous, but in addition to this I wish to retract a statement I made about Schwarzkopf's Straight & Glossy 48H Straightening Balm not working.

It totally works.

This morning I went for a swim, then washed my hair and crawled back into bed. I woke up a few hours later with Bob Dylan hair. In my life I have never seen my hair look like it did today. It was out of control. Grasping at straws, I applied some of the Schwarzkopf balm (which is actually a gel, just for the record) and brushed my hair. I then tied it up and went out for a bit. When I got home, I noticed that my hair was dead straight.

I'm not even exaggerating, kids. It looked like I'd used my ghd, and I hadn't. It's actually a miracle. Whether it lasts 48 hours is another story, because I have another swim planned for the morning. But either way, I am a convert. I'm pretty sure this product is going to change my life.

Go out and buy it now.

I found some more photos of Yuichi Hosoda too. Think this is going to result in a restraining order? Yeah, me too. Enjoy it while you can.

Anyway, if I get my way, we'll be going home together in seven nights' time. Hahaha.

Goldy Goldy Goldy!

I still have four sleeps until I leave for Australia, but I'm starting to get just a LITTLE bit (read: a BIG bit) excited.

The Gold Coast is actually one of my favourite places in the world so far. It's warm, beachy, and laid-back, but also slightly frenetic. It's also full of tourists, and I love people from other places. I even like Australians. Their accents are far easier to swallow than the nauseating New Zealand whine (note: if you're from somewhere else and have only heard our horrible Prime Minister, John Key speak, that's NOT how most of us talk, but it's still not nice), and every time I visit Goldy, I seem to make a new friend.

Even if it is just with the new girl on the Benefit Cosmetics counter at Myer in Pacific Fair.

A favourite pastime in Goldy is to walk around without shoes. Of course, I won't be able to do that until after my race, just in case, you know. I did it for a while in Auckland but Sara got sick of me coming home with stubbed and bleeding toes. Everything there is better. Even their dollar is worth more than ours.

This trip is poised to have the added extra of seeing athletes I'm used to watching on TV training in the pool next to me. The first time I experienced this was in Melbourne in 2003 when I jumped into a warmup lane at the Victorian Championships with Olympic silver medallist Matt Welsh. In the lane next to me, Michael Klim was adjusting his goggles. I actually let out a little squeal of excitement. While this time I'm obviously keeping a keen eye out for Yuichi Hosoda, the possibility of bumping into Jan Frodeno, Simon Whitfield, and my pick for the women's title, Emma Moffatt, rather excites me. Emma Snowsill is actually my favourite, but I had a dream that Moffatt wins, so that's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Also, I just really want to win. I feel like I've spent my life training for this race, and in a way, I kind of have. Since my selection, I've gone out on a limb to try and make every training session count, and tried to learn from the sessions that didn't go too well. I've been (and will continue to) embracing Luke's "power of positive thinking" theory - something entirely new to me, and of course I'm just going to do everything I can on race day to win. I actually don't mind if I flake out on the finish line, as long as there's no one in front of me.

Anyway, staying up late probably isn't doing me any favours, so on that note, I'm out.

Peace, love and ... gold?

Li In The Sky With Shoelace

In case you guys don't already stalk Li at exocomics.com, go visit her now!!! Here's her latest.

Isn't it delightful?! It's Li's first in-colour submission, and I just love it. I've said it before and I'll say it again, I know some very talented people.


Speaking of talent, the gorgeous Croatian Blanka Vlašić cleared 2.08m tonight at Zagreb to become the second highest jumper ever. She won the World Championship high jump title recently with a 2.04m clearance. 2.08m seems out of this world, and is 1cm off the world record held by Stefka Kostadinova (who was in the Bulgarian squad of the late 80s, so was probably on a whole load of stuff she shouldn't have been on, anyway). Blanka was named after the Moroccan city of Casablanca, where her father competed in the 1983 Mediterranean Games.


I've found my stalking project for next week's excursion to the ITU World Championships.

Ah, yes. His name is Yuichi Hosoda, and he's a member of Japan's elite triathlon team. In the past I've created something of a habit of going for the best of the best (Javier Gomez, Oscar Pistorius, etc) but I figure Yuichi, who regularly places in the 40s of World Cup meetings, is a safer bet. He's 24, and ... Japanese. Yes, please.

So that's my day. Happy September, everyone! It's going to be a cracker.

Peace, love, and Shoelaces.