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.
27 September 2009
23 September 2009
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.
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.
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I'm really quite up in arms about this. Help?
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
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.
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Guys from my past: Nick Springer and Shinichi Shimakawa
I'm really quite up in arms about this. Help?
16 September 2009
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.
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.
15 September 2009
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.
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.
14 September 2009
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?
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?
6 September 2009
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.
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 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!
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...
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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?
Natalie Portman, though. Is she the most perfect being on the face of the earth?
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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.
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.
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
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
4 September 2009
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.
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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.
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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.
3 September 2009
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?
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?
1 September 2009
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.
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.
31 August 2009
U-Fig
Is this, or is this not, the cutest thing you've ever seen?
Speaking of Japan, here's a photo of one of my faves.
I do recall saying I was going to devise a ranking system in order to sort out my favourite Japanese guys, but I think it goes something like
1: Nayuha
2: Kosuke Kitajima
3: Ryohei Komori
4: Hiroyuki Tomita
5: The rest of the Japanese gymnastics team
6: The rest of the male Japanese population
I'm going for a nail polish-free week! I'm keen to see how long it lasts. Because I constantly wear nail polish, and usually in shades such as "My Chihuahua Bites" which is the brightest red-coral I've ever seen, or "We'll Always Have Paris" - a lovely dark aubergine, you can imagine my nails themselves are stained quite nastily. Tonight I spent no less than an hour with my fingertips dipped in lemon juice to try and bleach them. By the end of it my fingers were beginning to sting. Beauty is pain, people.
It was, in retrospect, something of a pointless exercise, because, let's be honest. Tomorrrow afternoon I'm going to get over this and go and paint them an outlandish shade of pink, maybe "Dress To Empress" (it's from the Japanese Collection. Go figure). Still, an improvement in the colour of my nails has been noted, so if you're looking for a way to solve your yellow nail issues, either stop smoking - you digusting fag hag, or dip your nails in lemon juice.
Wowee. It's now just one week until I depart for the sunny Gold Coast, in Australia, for Worlds. Pooping myself much? This week, I have a new and improved schedule which will see me spending less time in the gym (because my shoulder are starting to look like... boulders) and more time out in the wilderness doing more useful training. Depending on the weather, of course. Right now, Zeus is out there having a whale of time and showering the town where I live with rain, wind, and thunder - to the extent where my internet connection has started to get a bit dodgy. Never mind, I'm tough. There's nothing quite like running in the rain.
Anyway, once we get to Australia, I'll have a day to sort myself out, then I'm racing in the Aquathlon World Championships on Wednesday, September 9th. This race consists of a 2.5km run, 1km swim and another 2.5km run, and is being treated by most of our team as a tune-up for the big event, which is on Saturday! ARGH! It's so close I don't know what to do with myself! That said, I'm very happy with my current training and state of fitness, so bring it on! *shadow boxes*
That was a lot of exclamation marks for a short paragraph. In fact, there were five sentences in there, and four exclamation marks. Eek.
Do you guys have any interests that begin with the letter "U"? I don't, apparently. Yes, I do realise it's an odd fact to know about myself, but tonight I got bored and put my Facebook "Interests" section into alphabetical order. U, X and Z were the only letters of the alphabet missing, and I really feel that my obsession with Orana Park could qualify me to legitimately list "zoos" as an interest. Here's a photo of me feeding a giraffe there.
My arms are now literally half the size they are in this photo, along with my chest. Yuss.
Anyway, what is there that I could possibly be interested in that starts with a "U"? Umbrellas? Urophagia *vomits in mouth*? Underwater hockey? None of these things really appeal. If you have an interest that begins with the letter "U", let me know.
For now, look after your elbows and knees, and smile at strangers.
Over and out.
It's called "Alice's Sewing Basket" and was designed by Jillian Nickell. I for one love it and will probably be buying it from threadless.com in the next few weeks. You know, with the money I'm saving to move to Japan.
Speaking of Japan, here's a photo of one of my faves.
I do recall saying I was going to devise a ranking system in order to sort out my favourite Japanese guys, but I think it goes something like
1: Nayuha
2: Kosuke Kitajima
3: Ryohei Komori
4: Hiroyuki Tomita
5: The rest of the Japanese gymnastics team
6: The rest of the male Japanese population
I'm going for a nail polish-free week! I'm keen to see how long it lasts. Because I constantly wear nail polish, and usually in shades such as "My Chihuahua Bites" which is the brightest red-coral I've ever seen, or "We'll Always Have Paris" - a lovely dark aubergine, you can imagine my nails themselves are stained quite nastily. Tonight I spent no less than an hour with my fingertips dipped in lemon juice to try and bleach them. By the end of it my fingers were beginning to sting. Beauty is pain, people.
It was, in retrospect, something of a pointless exercise, because, let's be honest. Tomorrrow afternoon I'm going to get over this and go and paint them an outlandish shade of pink, maybe "Dress To Empress" (it's from the Japanese Collection. Go figure). Still, an improvement in the colour of my nails has been noted, so if you're looking for a way to solve your yellow nail issues, either stop smoking - you digusting fag hag, or dip your nails in lemon juice.
Wowee. It's now just one week until I depart for the sunny Gold Coast, in Australia, for Worlds. Pooping myself much? This week, I have a new and improved schedule which will see me spending less time in the gym (because my shoulder are starting to look like... boulders) and more time out in the wilderness doing more useful training. Depending on the weather, of course. Right now, Zeus is out there having a whale of time and showering the town where I live with rain, wind, and thunder - to the extent where my internet connection has started to get a bit dodgy. Never mind, I'm tough. There's nothing quite like running in the rain.
Anyway, once we get to Australia, I'll have a day to sort myself out, then I'm racing in the Aquathlon World Championships on Wednesday, September 9th. This race consists of a 2.5km run, 1km swim and another 2.5km run, and is being treated by most of our team as a tune-up for the big event, which is on Saturday! ARGH! It's so close I don't know what to do with myself! That said, I'm very happy with my current training and state of fitness, so bring it on! *shadow boxes*
That was a lot of exclamation marks for a short paragraph. In fact, there were five sentences in there, and four exclamation marks. Eek.
Do you guys have any interests that begin with the letter "U"? I don't, apparently. Yes, I do realise it's an odd fact to know about myself, but tonight I got bored and put my Facebook "Interests" section into alphabetical order. U, X and Z were the only letters of the alphabet missing, and I really feel that my obsession with Orana Park could qualify me to legitimately list "zoos" as an interest. Here's a photo of me feeding a giraffe there.
My arms are now literally half the size they are in this photo, along with my chest. Yuss.
Anyway, what is there that I could possibly be interested in that starts with a "U"? Umbrellas? Urophagia *vomits in mouth*? Underwater hockey? None of these things really appeal. If you have an interest that begins with the letter "U", let me know.
For now, look after your elbows and knees, and smile at strangers.
Over and out.
29 August 2009
cosme-de.com
My VISA got its riot gear out this morning when I discovered cosme-de.com, a website from which I can purchase NARS makeup with free shipping, and without the outrageous markups I would experience if I bought it in Auckland.
Only one store in New Zealand (Mecca Cosmetica, in Ponsonby) carries NARS, and as such it reserves the right to double the cost of the line. I'm being dead serious. Firming Foundation, for example, can be bought from Sephora for $50USD. That converts to around $73 in my currency. What would it cost me to buy it at Mecca? $150. And that's for a limited range of colours, so I'm not even guaranteed to look my best. Likewise, the eyeshadow duos (my personal favourite range of its kind) are $98. I don't know about you, but I just don't have $100 to spend on eyeshadow. And I don't know how keen I would be to spend that, even if it turned out that Richard Branson is in fact my uncle (I'm trying to prove this using my mother's genealogy software). At any rate, this morning I discovered that I can buy two sets for this price on cosme-de. Ka-ching!
Admittedly, I already gave my VISA a bit of a workout last night when I bought a tshirt from threadless.com.
Have you heard me rave about this site before? Probably. It's one of my faves. Every time I visit, I find at least six tshirts that I want, but last night I was able to narrow it down to one, and ordered away. Thus, in about two weeks time, I'm going to be sporting one of these.
It's called "Star Cross'd Lovers" and was designed by Alice Zhang and Chow Hon Lam. The decision to only buy one shirt was a begrudging one, let me assure you. My favourite print of all time, "Blooming" by TJ Zhang, has sold out in my size (stupid, because I totally had the opportunity to buy it, the day it came out, but couldn't be bothered!) and so I had another of his designs, "Shh..." in my cart all ready to go. At the end of the day though, I questioned my need for two shirts, and just went with this one. I love threadless.com.
Wow, I think I'm meant to be saving money to go to Japan!? Oops.
Peace, love, and reasonably priced makeup.
Only one store in New Zealand (Mecca Cosmetica, in Ponsonby) carries NARS, and as such it reserves the right to double the cost of the line. I'm being dead serious. Firming Foundation, for example, can be bought from Sephora for $50USD. That converts to around $73 in my currency. What would it cost me to buy it at Mecca? $150. And that's for a limited range of colours, so I'm not even guaranteed to look my best. Likewise, the eyeshadow duos (my personal favourite range of its kind) are $98. I don't know about you, but I just don't have $100 to spend on eyeshadow. And I don't know how keen I would be to spend that, even if it turned out that Richard Branson is in fact my uncle (I'm trying to prove this using my mother's genealogy software). At any rate, this morning I discovered that I can buy two sets for this price on cosme-de. Ka-ching!
Admittedly, I already gave my VISA a bit of a workout last night when I bought a tshirt from threadless.com.
Have you heard me rave about this site before? Probably. It's one of my faves. Every time I visit, I find at least six tshirts that I want, but last night I was able to narrow it down to one, and ordered away. Thus, in about two weeks time, I'm going to be sporting one of these.
It's called "Star Cross'd Lovers" and was designed by Alice Zhang and Chow Hon Lam. The decision to only buy one shirt was a begrudging one, let me assure you. My favourite print of all time, "Blooming" by TJ Zhang, has sold out in my size (stupid, because I totally had the opportunity to buy it, the day it came out, but couldn't be bothered!) and so I had another of his designs, "Shh..." in my cart all ready to go. At the end of the day though, I questioned my need for two shirts, and just went with this one. I love threadless.com.
Wow, I think I'm meant to be saving money to go to Japan!? Oops.
Peace, love, and reasonably priced makeup.
How I Met Your Elbows
How I Met Your Mother, along with Chuck, Skins, Outrageous Fortune, and The Big Bang Theory, is my favourite show (yes, I know I just listed five shows. It's one for each night of the week!). And a few weeks ago, I picked up a wee gem from Barney, that blonde guy who always wears suits. "Suits are cool."
One of his many theories (which include the "Crazy-Hot Scale", and the fact that you can tell if a woman has children by the insides of her wrists) is that you can tell someone's age from their elbows.
Sure, I've known this subconsciously for years, but ever since watching the episode, I've been moisturising my elbows with a vengeance - I'm determined to get into negative equity with the theory. And so, without further ado, I bring you my best picks for youthful elbows.
1: Palmer's Olive Butter Formula. Admittedly, the main drawcard here for me is its fragrance. In general, I turn my nose up at olive-scented things - The Body Shop's Olive Oil Body Butter and Shampoo (although the shampoo does create unparalleled shine...) are really just not up there on my faves - but this Palmer's stuff is fantastic. It's designated for use on hands, elbows and feet - so it's richer than the average moisturiser, and perfect for getting your elbows baby-soft. Mmm.
2: Neutrogena Norwegian Formula Hand Cream. Yeah, you saw that one coming from a mile away. In general, I can't stand to use this on my hands because it's so sticky and weird, but it's the perfect solution to your overnight elbow moisturisation woes. Added bonus: the heat generated by your body while sleeping adds to its effect. It doesn't smell as good as the Palmer's stuff, but it comes with Hollywood's, and the dermatologist's seal of approval, so it can't be all bad!
3: St Ive's Oatmeal and Shea Butter Advanced Body Moisturiser. It's more of an all-over formula, but it's emollient enough to keep your elbows in tip-top condition. Pay extra attention to your elbows (and the heels of your hands, particularly if you're a cyclist like me) while moisturising your arms with this stuff. Keep it by your bed for first-thing-in-the-morning and middle-of-the-night topups. Yeah, I did mention that I've become pedantic about this! The great thing about St Ive's is that it comes in a giant bottle with a pumpy lid, and it's wicked cheap, but effective.
4: The Body Shop Hemp Hand Protector. Unfortunately you can't use this to get high, not that I would ever be keen for that anyway. It's quite possibly the richest moisturising product on the market, and it truly works wonders for dry skin - whether it be on your hands, heels or ... elbows! When I first bought this product it came with a special scrub to use before it, which is pretty much my favourite scrub of all time. I've since run out (I bought it like, two years ago), which is a bummer, but this cream alone is fantastic. Buying from The Body Shop also means you're contributing to Community Trade projects in disadvantaged countries, so it's double happy!
Moisturising obsessively is not the only thing you can do to smooth things up. My personal method of exfoliation is with a pair of gloves from The Body Shop, teamed up with whatever body wash I happen to be using at the time. Don't EVER be tempted to use these gloves on your face. Sounds like common sense, right? Not to my sister, who only recently came to the realisation that maybe doing so was the cause of her red, dry sore facial skin. Only use a face-specific exfoliator on your face - these are much gentler. When it comes to elbows, however, you can afford to be a little bit more ruthless. Just be sure to moisturise immediately after showering - sloughing the epidermis and not creating a lipid barrier afterwards leaves your skin at the mercy of the elements, and will lead to roughness and occasionally even broken skin - the opposite of what we want!
L'Oreal's Exfotonic is hailed as one of the greatest exfoliating products ever, and with good reason. It's grainy and can sting a little, but the results are truly magnifique! In my experience, a little does not really go a long way, and it's for that reason that Exfotonic is a once-a-year treat buy. Other favourites include Clinique's Sparkle Skin, which comes with a delighful cooling sensation. Again, it's a must that you moisturise directly after use. If you're in a financial position to splash out, go for Origins Modern Friction. In fact, while you're instore, try and wangle your way into a hand and arm treatment. Louise (not my sister) and I had this opportunity at the Providence Place Mall a few years ago, and we had gorgeous hands for the rest of the day (until we got back to camp, when your hands invariably become chapped and covered in dirt immediately).
So that's my spiel on how to get nice elbows for the day. Don't let this be an excuse to neglect your knees though!!
One of his many theories (which include the "Crazy-Hot Scale", and the fact that you can tell if a woman has children by the insides of her wrists) is that you can tell someone's age from their elbows.
Sure, I've known this subconsciously for years, but ever since watching the episode, I've been moisturising my elbows with a vengeance - I'm determined to get into negative equity with the theory. And so, without further ado, I bring you my best picks for youthful elbows.
1: Palmer's Olive Butter Formula. Admittedly, the main drawcard here for me is its fragrance. In general, I turn my nose up at olive-scented things - The Body Shop's Olive Oil Body Butter and Shampoo (although the shampoo does create unparalleled shine...) are really just not up there on my faves - but this Palmer's stuff is fantastic. It's designated for use on hands, elbows and feet - so it's richer than the average moisturiser, and perfect for getting your elbows baby-soft. Mmm.
2: Neutrogena Norwegian Formula Hand Cream. Yeah, you saw that one coming from a mile away. In general, I can't stand to use this on my hands because it's so sticky and weird, but it's the perfect solution to your overnight elbow moisturisation woes. Added bonus: the heat generated by your body while sleeping adds to its effect. It doesn't smell as good as the Palmer's stuff, but it comes with Hollywood's, and the dermatologist's seal of approval, so it can't be all bad!
3: St Ive's Oatmeal and Shea Butter Advanced Body Moisturiser. It's more of an all-over formula, but it's emollient enough to keep your elbows in tip-top condition. Pay extra attention to your elbows (and the heels of your hands, particularly if you're a cyclist like me) while moisturising your arms with this stuff. Keep it by your bed for first-thing-in-the-morning and middle-of-the-night topups. Yeah, I did mention that I've become pedantic about this! The great thing about St Ive's is that it comes in a giant bottle with a pumpy lid, and it's wicked cheap, but effective.
4: The Body Shop Hemp Hand Protector. Unfortunately you can't use this to get high, not that I would ever be keen for that anyway. It's quite possibly the richest moisturising product on the market, and it truly works wonders for dry skin - whether it be on your hands, heels or ... elbows! When I first bought this product it came with a special scrub to use before it, which is pretty much my favourite scrub of all time. I've since run out (I bought it like, two years ago), which is a bummer, but this cream alone is fantastic. Buying from The Body Shop also means you're contributing to Community Trade projects in disadvantaged countries, so it's double happy!
Moisturising obsessively is not the only thing you can do to smooth things up. My personal method of exfoliation is with a pair of gloves from The Body Shop, teamed up with whatever body wash I happen to be using at the time. Don't EVER be tempted to use these gloves on your face. Sounds like common sense, right? Not to my sister, who only recently came to the realisation that maybe doing so was the cause of her red, dry sore facial skin. Only use a face-specific exfoliator on your face - these are much gentler. When it comes to elbows, however, you can afford to be a little bit more ruthless. Just be sure to moisturise immediately after showering - sloughing the epidermis and not creating a lipid barrier afterwards leaves your skin at the mercy of the elements, and will lead to roughness and occasionally even broken skin - the opposite of what we want!
L'Oreal's Exfotonic is hailed as one of the greatest exfoliating products ever, and with good reason. It's grainy and can sting a little, but the results are truly magnifique! In my experience, a little does not really go a long way, and it's for that reason that Exfotonic is a once-a-year treat buy. Other favourites include Clinique's Sparkle Skin, which comes with a delighful cooling sensation. Again, it's a must that you moisturise directly after use. If you're in a financial position to splash out, go for Origins Modern Friction. In fact, while you're instore, try and wangle your way into a hand and arm treatment. Louise (not my sister) and I had this opportunity at the Providence Place Mall a few years ago, and we had gorgeous hands for the rest of the day (until we got back to camp, when your hands invariably become chapped and covered in dirt immediately).
So that's my spiel on how to get nice elbows for the day. Don't let this be an excuse to neglect your knees though!!
28 August 2009
Smells Better Than An Old Hat
A lot better.
I traded in bottles of supermarket-bought shampoo and conditioner (Pantene and Sunsilk, respectively) yesterday at Rodney Wayne and received $10 off Redken Extreme shampoo and conditioner. Today I used them and they're pretty much the best thing ever. The formula is for "distressed" hair, which pretty much sums up my mop to a tee. What with daily attacks of sweat, chlorine, cold air, 300-degree heat from straighteners, constant brushing, tying and re-tying up, further abuse from straighteners, and of course the array of products I use to try and keep it in its straight glory (Frizz-Ease Relaxer, Sunsilk Easy Straightening Creme, Redken Heat Glide, Schwarzkopf 48 Straightening Balm - none of which actually work, by the way) - yes, one can assume my hair is fairly distressed. I'm also considering the switch to Lady Gaga blonde in a few weeks, so if that doesn't stress out my hair, nothing will.
We'll see how the Redken goes. It gets ten points for smelling delicious, anyway. I'm a little confused as to why the shampoo bottle (300mL) is larger than the conditioner (250mL). Does ANYONE use more shampoo than they do conditioner? Seriously. If you do, let me know. I'll probably be able to give you a more accurate gauge on how well these products work, in a few weeks once I've used them more than once.
Until then, happy straightening, people!
I traded in bottles of supermarket-bought shampoo and conditioner (Pantene and Sunsilk, respectively) yesterday at Rodney Wayne and received $10 off Redken Extreme shampoo and conditioner. Today I used them and they're pretty much the best thing ever. The formula is for "distressed" hair, which pretty much sums up my mop to a tee. What with daily attacks of sweat, chlorine, cold air, 300-degree heat from straighteners, constant brushing, tying and re-tying up, further abuse from straighteners, and of course the array of products I use to try and keep it in its straight glory (Frizz-Ease Relaxer, Sunsilk Easy Straightening Creme, Redken Heat Glide, Schwarzkopf 48 Straightening Balm - none of which actually work, by the way) - yes, one can assume my hair is fairly distressed. I'm also considering the switch to Lady Gaga blonde in a few weeks, so if that doesn't stress out my hair, nothing will.
We'll see how the Redken goes. It gets ten points for smelling delicious, anyway. I'm a little confused as to why the shampoo bottle (300mL) is larger than the conditioner (250mL). Does ANYONE use more shampoo than they do conditioner? Seriously. If you do, let me know. I'll probably be able to give you a more accurate gauge on how well these products work, in a few weeks once I've used them more than once.
Until then, happy straightening, people!
27 August 2009
There's No Land Like It
Today I made a fleeting visit to my old home: North Shore City, or Shore Land. What a happy few minutes it was!
Actually, I had a fairly successful day in general. I had one of the funniest conversations of all time with Curtis when I woke up, then proceeded to journey northwards (northwards? Is that even a word?) firstly to Newmarket, and then to the Shore. Looking at what I've just written, I'm feeling a bit sad at how I define success. Really? Driving to Auckland?
In other news, my sister got engaged last night.
I don't find that particularly exciting. Should I?
My sister is 25, and has been living with this douchebag guy named Nick for a couple of years now. I'm sure he's lovely, but the fact that in his entire life he's not said one nice thing to me - instead he mocks me mercilessly, which would be fine if I thought it was in jest, but I just don't - pisses me off just a smidgen. Also, he is like, 26 going on 60. He dresses, behaves, eats, and is pretty much just like an old man. But whatever. On the upside, he is at least 400% better than my sister's last boyfriend, who is now thought to be either clinically insane or a psychopath (they were engaged, albeit briefly and while drunk, in 2004).
Another upshot of this engagement is that I've officially secured my very first bridal makeup gig. I mean, I don't know when it is, but there you have it. And no, I am not going to be a bridesmaid. This is because bridesmaids are meant to look not-as-nice-as-the-bride on the wedding day, and that just doesn't run with me. I try to upstage people at their own 21sts. As if I'm ever going to be someone's bridesmaid.
Anyway. Frankie, who you should all stalk at Swell Vintage, has just published a lovely article on the extraordinary Zooey Deschanel at Queens Of Vintage. Zooey is a longtime favourite of mine. She is a total babe. Here she is at the premiere of 500 Days Of Summer.
+Days+of+Summer+-+Google+Chrome+27082009+112340+p.m..bmp.jpg)
Those eyes! Those perfectly pink cheeks! I love love LOVE it. Also I'm obsessed with the hair, which looks a tad less crack-addict (but still hot!) than the beehive I sported at Libby's 21st in January. Mmm-hmm.
Right, well... that's about it.
Peace, love and classy beehives.
Actually, I had a fairly successful day in general. I had one of the funniest conversations of all time with Curtis when I woke up, then proceeded to journey northwards (northwards? Is that even a word?) firstly to Newmarket, and then to the Shore. Looking at what I've just written, I'm feeling a bit sad at how I define success. Really? Driving to Auckland?
In other news, my sister got engaged last night.
I don't find that particularly exciting. Should I?
My sister is 25, and has been living with this douchebag guy named Nick for a couple of years now. I'm sure he's lovely, but the fact that in his entire life he's not said one nice thing to me - instead he mocks me mercilessly, which would be fine if I thought it was in jest, but I just don't - pisses me off just a smidgen. Also, he is like, 26 going on 60. He dresses, behaves, eats, and is pretty much just like an old man. But whatever. On the upside, he is at least 400% better than my sister's last boyfriend, who is now thought to be either clinically insane or a psychopath (they were engaged, albeit briefly and while drunk, in 2004).
Another upshot of this engagement is that I've officially secured my very first bridal makeup gig. I mean, I don't know when it is, but there you have it. And no, I am not going to be a bridesmaid. This is because bridesmaids are meant to look not-as-nice-as-the-bride on the wedding day, and that just doesn't run with me. I try to upstage people at their own 21sts. As if I'm ever going to be someone's bridesmaid.
Anyway. Frankie, who you should all stalk at Swell Vintage, has just published a lovely article on the extraordinary Zooey Deschanel at Queens Of Vintage. Zooey is a longtime favourite of mine. She is a total babe. Here she is at the premiere of 500 Days Of Summer.
+Days+of+Summer+-+Google+Chrome+27082009+112340+p.m..bmp.jpg)
Those eyes! Those perfectly pink cheeks! I love love LOVE it. Also I'm obsessed with the hair, which looks a tad less crack-addict (but still hot!) than the beehive I sported at Libby's 21st in January. Mmm-hmm.
Right, well... that's about it.
Peace, love and classy beehives.
22 August 2009
Oh, Hai
It's been a while, so here's a photo of that Japanese cyclist I love. Yesss.
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I'm more than a little bit excited that he's going to be down my way soon for the Tour Of Southland.
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I'm more than a little bit excited that he's going to be down my way soon for the Tour Of Southland.
El Spanish-o
I came across OPI's latest offering this morning: Colleccion de Espana.
I must say, I rather like it. In fact, I bought "Ate Berries In The Canaries", despite it being little more than half a shade more purple than my current fave, "I'm Indi-a Mood For Love" (no prizes for guessing what collection that came from). I'm also more than a little bit keen for "Suzi Skis In The Pyrenees", an unusual grey-navy.
This weekend, my nails are getting a much-needed break from polish. I literally can't remember the last time I went without, though I'm guessing it was before November, because I made a point of sporting a new shade each week while I was at SRA, and since then I haven't gone without. There's always someone you have to impress, whether it's at the gym or at the sushi bar (the only two public places I go).
Another exciting development: you can take bottles of shampoo bought at the supermarket into Rodney Wayne and receive a $10 discount on Redken shampoos. Yes please. Considering my current choice of conditioner (Sunsilk Moisture Therapy) leaves my hair smelling like an old cat, I'm all over that.
Yesterday's job was a success! There was a slight hitch with some dropdown which in turn caused Jess' cheeks to go grey and they required complete re-making up, but apart from that it was smooth sailing with some very glamorous results! Once the hangovers have worn off, the girls have told me they'll upload photos to Facebook, from where I can steal them and post them on mim.artiste. Yay! I would have done it for free, but getting paid was a welcome bonus. To that end I'm going on "holiday" tomorrow, to Taupo... with my bike. It's now just three weeks until Worlds, and I feel like a wee retreat to one of my favourite training posts is needed.
Lucky for some: longtime friend and sometimes dick, Terenzo, is in the Philippines for Ironman 70.3 Philippines tomorrow. He often flits around the world for various competitions, and usually does quite well: so far this year he's won a couple of the Ironman 70.3 series. After placing second in his maiden Ironman New Zealand earlier this year, he's also off to Kona in October for the World Championships, and later in the year the series final of 70.3 in Clearwater, Florida, where he's previously won and broken the course record.
So that's what's going on... I fell asleep partway through this post, so I'm feeling quite glad I didn't choose to hit Taupo today instead. More later, kids.
This weekend, my nails are getting a much-needed break from polish. I literally can't remember the last time I went without, though I'm guessing it was before November, because I made a point of sporting a new shade each week while I was at SRA, and since then I haven't gone without. There's always someone you have to impress, whether it's at the gym or at the sushi bar (the only two public places I go).
Another exciting development: you can take bottles of shampoo bought at the supermarket into Rodney Wayne and receive a $10 discount on Redken shampoos. Yes please. Considering my current choice of conditioner (Sunsilk Moisture Therapy) leaves my hair smelling like an old cat, I'm all over that.
Yesterday's job was a success! There was a slight hitch with some dropdown which in turn caused Jess' cheeks to go grey and they required complete re-making up, but apart from that it was smooth sailing with some very glamorous results! Once the hangovers have worn off, the girls have told me they'll upload photos to Facebook, from where I can steal them and post them on mim.artiste. Yay! I would have done it for free, but getting paid was a welcome bonus. To that end I'm going on "holiday" tomorrow, to Taupo... with my bike. It's now just three weeks until Worlds, and I feel like a wee retreat to one of my favourite training posts is needed.
Lucky for some: longtime friend and sometimes dick, Terenzo, is in the Philippines for Ironman 70.3 Philippines tomorrow. He often flits around the world for various competitions, and usually does quite well: so far this year he's won a couple of the Ironman 70.3 series. After placing second in his maiden Ironman New Zealand earlier this year, he's also off to Kona in October for the World Championships, and later in the year the series final of 70.3 in Clearwater, Florida, where he's previously won and broken the course record.
So that's what's going on... I fell asleep partway through this post, so I'm feeling quite glad I didn't choose to hit Taupo today instead. More later, kids.
Smack
A seemingly resounding 87% of New Zealand voters ticked "No" in the recent Citizens Initiated Referendum about the Anti-Smacking Law.
In New Zealand, it is a criminal offense to smack your child as a means of good parental discipline. It's all a bit airy fairy, isn't it? Under this law, my parents, along with the parents of a lot of people I know, are criminals.
The law was initiated a few years ago by Green Party member and noted hippy, Sue Bradford. Since then, a guy in Christchurch was convicted of the offense - though one hopes that his behaviour (which included punching his child in the face) would have been brought to trial regardless of this law. I'm no parenting expert, and I hope I never am, but to me that seems a bit more like assault than discipline.
It's caused a rift amongst New Zealanders, this anti-smacking business. My sister, who is also a hippy, voted "Yes" in the referendum which posed the question, "Should a smack, as part of good parental discipline, be a criminal offense in New Zealand?". Louise said to me that parents need to learn alternative methods of disciplining their children, rather than resorting to immediate violence. She then raved on about research regarding the mental state of people who were smacked as children.
Um, okay then. But a law banning smacking isn't going to educate parents on alternative disciplinary actions, is it? It simply criminalises a smack. And as for further research she claims shows that a smack can lead to abuse... great. But people who abuse children aren't usually the ones who abide by the law anyway.
I'm not pro-smacking. I don't think hitting a child is that effective for anything really. But I just don't agree with the premise that if you do choose to do it as a method of discipline, that you should be deemed a criminal, and as such effectively lumped in with people who put their toddlers in clothesdryers (overseas readers: yes, it has happened here). I also don't believe that making this a criminal offense is going to lead to parents making "better" decisions regarding discipline.
Only 54% of enrolled New Zealand voters submitted ballots in this referendum. Some, like University of Waikato lecturer Mark Houlahan, refused to vote because of the question's lack of definition (how does one define a "smack"? And what is "good parenting"?). Sue Bradford even claimed that some voters would have found the question difficult and misleading, and may have accidentally voted the wrong way. Initially, I wasn't going to vote because this is not a law that affects, or will ever affect me because I have absolutely no plans of ever becoming a parent, and as such have no use for disciplinary actions towards children. I changed my mind because I thought all the hippies would vote yes.
As it turns out, it may not matter anyway. The last Citizens Initiated Referendum, about the number of MPs in parliament, was completely ignored by the government, and despite a huge majority voting in favour of the number being reduced from 120 to 99, there are still 120 MPs in parliament fifteen years later.
Why our government is wasting money on referendums when it should be agreeing to reduce carbon emissions by 40% by 2020 is beyond me anyway. Don't you just love politics?
In New Zealand, it is a criminal offense to smack your child as a means of good parental discipline. It's all a bit airy fairy, isn't it? Under this law, my parents, along with the parents of a lot of people I know, are criminals.
The law was initiated a few years ago by Green Party member and noted hippy, Sue Bradford. Since then, a guy in Christchurch was convicted of the offense - though one hopes that his behaviour (which included punching his child in the face) would have been brought to trial regardless of this law. I'm no parenting expert, and I hope I never am, but to me that seems a bit more like assault than discipline.
It's caused a rift amongst New Zealanders, this anti-smacking business. My sister, who is also a hippy, voted "Yes" in the referendum which posed the question, "Should a smack, as part of good parental discipline, be a criminal offense in New Zealand?". Louise said to me that parents need to learn alternative methods of disciplining their children, rather than resorting to immediate violence. She then raved on about research regarding the mental state of people who were smacked as children.
Um, okay then. But a law banning smacking isn't going to educate parents on alternative disciplinary actions, is it? It simply criminalises a smack. And as for further research she claims shows that a smack can lead to abuse... great. But people who abuse children aren't usually the ones who abide by the law anyway.
I'm not pro-smacking. I don't think hitting a child is that effective for anything really. But I just don't agree with the premise that if you do choose to do it as a method of discipline, that you should be deemed a criminal, and as such effectively lumped in with people who put their toddlers in clothesdryers (overseas readers: yes, it has happened here). I also don't believe that making this a criminal offense is going to lead to parents making "better" decisions regarding discipline.
Only 54% of enrolled New Zealand voters submitted ballots in this referendum. Some, like University of Waikato lecturer Mark Houlahan, refused to vote because of the question's lack of definition (how does one define a "smack"? And what is "good parenting"?). Sue Bradford even claimed that some voters would have found the question difficult and misleading, and may have accidentally voted the wrong way. Initially, I wasn't going to vote because this is not a law that affects, or will ever affect me because I have absolutely no plans of ever becoming a parent, and as such have no use for disciplinary actions towards children. I changed my mind because I thought all the hippies would vote yes.
As it turns out, it may not matter anyway. The last Citizens Initiated Referendum, about the number of MPs in parliament, was completely ignored by the government, and despite a huge majority voting in favour of the number being reduced from 120 to 99, there are still 120 MPs in parliament fifteen years later.
Why our government is wasting money on referendums when it should be agreeing to reduce carbon emissions by 40% by 2020 is beyond me anyway. Don't you just love politics?
21 August 2009
Speed Demon
Scandal at this year's World Championships in Athletics: is women's 800m winner Caster Semenya... a woman?
I didn't actually see the race (the spin class I was taking this morning prevented me from doing so, but NOT from watching Monique's 200m heat. More on that in a tick) but by the time I got home from training tonight, I'd heard all sorts of things about the winner.
My mum, who is for the record, highly judgmental of people based on appearances and other outward aspects of a person, seemed quick in her conclusion that Caster is not of the fairer sex. "Look at it!" she fairly cried. "Just the way it's standing around, and those arms..."
Personally, I find judging someone's sex based on their arms particularly offensive, because mine used to be pretty huge, and garnered me the affectionate nickname of "man arms".
I'll admit, Caster is not hugely feminine. She is extraordinarily muscular, runs with a rather... manly gait, and her pre-race mannerisms were not unlike those of the male sprinters. Then there's the glowing reference from her high school principal, that he "didn't realise she was a girl until the eleventh grade" and that she wore the boys' uniform, not the girls'. Umm, okay?
Questions were also raised at her rate of improvement: last year she was running 2:04, last night she finished in a swift 1:55. This is, to be fair, pretty redundant. An improvement of 9 seconds over 800m in an eighteen-year-old boy would also seem pretty suspicious, and as such can hardly be used as further proof that she might in fact be a he.
It's all kind of reminiscent of the 1972 Olympics, where female athletes were gender tested. Shane Gould, who until 2000 was Australia's only gold medallist in the women's 200m freestyle (and who won, in addition to that race, the 200m individual medley and 400m freestyle at the same Olympics, all in world record time), wrote about it in her book, Tumble Turns. She commented on the fact that due to suspect performances by "female" East German and Soviet athletes, she was required to get nekkid for officials so that they could confirm her sex. Frightening.
News reports about Caster suggest she has been "sex tested" before. But she remains under investigation by the IAAF, and, if she's found to be, well, male... then she loses her medal. Guts, though. I mean, let's assume for all intents and purposes that she is a girl. What an awful, awful thing for an eighteen-year-old girl to have to endure. The entire world is questioning her gender. As if she doesn't have enough on her plate.
Sigh.
Anyway, more exciting for me was watching Monique Williams' heat of the 200m, where she almost outran Allyson Felix (another favourite of mine. In fact, I still have the photo finish from the 200m final in Osaka two years ago, where Allyson won with a classy 21.81s, on my wall). Monique is from Tokoroa, which is a... not so nice town not far from my hometown of Hamilton. She's wicked fast. In my track days I was often in the same heat as her for 100m and 200m, which as you can imagine is fairly embarrassing when she's finishing in about 23s and I'm taking, like, 30s. This morning she outdid herself: 22.96s and a new national record. Finishing second in her heat, she secured a place in tonight's semi-finals, which I may not get to watch live. Disappointing. Here's hoping she runs even faster tonight!
I didn't actually see the race (the spin class I was taking this morning prevented me from doing so, but NOT from watching Monique's 200m heat. More on that in a tick) but by the time I got home from training tonight, I'd heard all sorts of things about the winner.
My mum, who is for the record, highly judgmental of people based on appearances and other outward aspects of a person, seemed quick in her conclusion that Caster is not of the fairer sex. "Look at it!" she fairly cried. "Just the way it's standing around, and those arms..."
Personally, I find judging someone's sex based on their arms particularly offensive, because mine used to be pretty huge, and garnered me the affectionate nickname of "man arms".
I'll admit, Caster is not hugely feminine. She is extraordinarily muscular, runs with a rather... manly gait, and her pre-race mannerisms were not unlike those of the male sprinters. Then there's the glowing reference from her high school principal, that he "didn't realise she was a girl until the eleventh grade" and that she wore the boys' uniform, not the girls'. Umm, okay?
Questions were also raised at her rate of improvement: last year she was running 2:04, last night she finished in a swift 1:55. This is, to be fair, pretty redundant. An improvement of 9 seconds over 800m in an eighteen-year-old boy would also seem pretty suspicious, and as such can hardly be used as further proof that she might in fact be a he.
It's all kind of reminiscent of the 1972 Olympics, where female athletes were gender tested. Shane Gould, who until 2000 was Australia's only gold medallist in the women's 200m freestyle (and who won, in addition to that race, the 200m individual medley and 400m freestyle at the same Olympics, all in world record time), wrote about it in her book, Tumble Turns. She commented on the fact that due to suspect performances by "female" East German and Soviet athletes, she was required to get nekkid for officials so that they could confirm her sex. Frightening.
News reports about Caster suggest she has been "sex tested" before. But she remains under investigation by the IAAF, and, if she's found to be, well, male... then she loses her medal. Guts, though. I mean, let's assume for all intents and purposes that she is a girl. What an awful, awful thing for an eighteen-year-old girl to have to endure. The entire world is questioning her gender. As if she doesn't have enough on her plate.
Sigh.
Anyway, more exciting for me was watching Monique Williams' heat of the 200m, where she almost outran Allyson Felix (another favourite of mine. In fact, I still have the photo finish from the 200m final in Osaka two years ago, where Allyson won with a classy 21.81s, on my wall). Monique is from Tokoroa, which is a... not so nice town not far from my hometown of Hamilton. She's wicked fast. In my track days I was often in the same heat as her for 100m and 200m, which as you can imagine is fairly embarrassing when she's finishing in about 23s and I'm taking, like, 30s. This morning she outdid herself: 22.96s and a new national record. Finishing second in her heat, she secured a place in tonight's semi-finals, which I may not get to watch live. Disappointing. Here's hoping she runs even faster tonight!
Tomorrow (or today, as it's now 12:36am) I get to do makeup, and get paid for it! Wow, it's only been... five months since I graduated and I'm finally putting my qualification to use. Well, for money anyway. I do love working on films for free, especially when they involve my faves. I'm doing makeup for five gorgeous girls who are hitting the Waikato University Law Society Ball. Excitement!
With that said... I have to get an entire day's worth of training in before 12:30pm... so I've got the earliest start of all time.
Peace, love and fast 200m semi-finals.
With that said... I have to get an entire day's worth of training in before 12:30pm... so I've got the earliest start of all time.
Peace, love and fast 200m semi-finals.
19 August 2009
And Then The Seagull Came...
I don't know why, but this week is proving to be particularly exhausting for me. I'm used to being tired a lot, but not to this extent. It's very strange, and I'm grasping at straws to come up with an explanation.
Anyway, this morning I ran on the treadmill while watching some Kenyans run a 3000m steeples race MUCH too fast. In fact, it took winner Ezekiel Kemboi just 8:00.45 to finish the race. THAT'S RIDICULOUS. In my first year at high school (albeit before I took running very seriously), I remember doing the Cooper's 12 minute run for PE class, and clocking up about 3000m. At the time, of course, I thought I was destined for distance running greatness, and for the remaining years I spent at school, every year I tried and failed to win the cross country. Anyway, I KNOW they're Kenyans, and I KNOW they get paid to train, and they live in one of the world's most appropriate countries for training steeples, but I'm just so baffled at how one can run 3000m in eight minutes. With the added drama of a few jumps, including one each lap into a pit of water, along the way. It really is quite incredible.
Anyway, this morning I ran on the treadmill while watching some Kenyans run a 3000m steeples race MUCH too fast. In fact, it took winner Ezekiel Kemboi just 8:00.45 to finish the race. THAT'S RIDICULOUS. In my first year at high school (albeit before I took running very seriously), I remember doing the Cooper's 12 minute run for PE class, and clocking up about 3000m. At the time, of course, I thought I was destined for distance running greatness, and for the remaining years I spent at school, every year I tried and failed to win the cross country. Anyway, I KNOW they're Kenyans, and I KNOW they get paid to train, and they live in one of the world's most appropriate countries for training steeples, but I'm just so baffled at how one can run 3000m in eight minutes. With the added drama of a few jumps, including one each lap into a pit of water, along the way. It really is quite incredible.
Zeke, en route to Olympic gold in 2004
Sanya Richards, who I used to adore (until Briar told me the reason she was so good as because she took steroids, not because of the stretching programme she followed), won the 400m final in a 2009 World Leading time of 49.00s. I don't know. I kind of think if she was really on steroids, she'd be running a lot faster than that. Like, maybe 46s? Oh, well.
I just tried to get creative in the kitchen, adding garlic mayonnaise to my bagel with egg. It wasn't half-bad, and reminded me of the time when Nicola and Ana had nothing except bread and mayonnaise in their flat while we were students at the University of Otago, so I had mayo-on-toast for tea. Yumm. I'm considering a career in fine cuisines involving egg-based condiments.
It's not a fantastic day where I live. The sky is grey. Actually grey. And it's been raining on and off since, well, presumably before I got up, because when I left my house, the roads were wet and stuff. I'm continually in awe of what a profound effect weather has upon me. This morning, for example, I came home from training instead of going to the pool, just because I felt depressed at having to use my windscreen wipers. I'm struggling to get ready for my next session, because of the colour of the sky. Is anyone else like this?
I bet Ezekiel Kemboi goes out whatever the weather. And that's why he can run a 3000m steeples in eight minutes, and I can't.
I just tried to get creative in the kitchen, adding garlic mayonnaise to my bagel with egg. It wasn't half-bad, and reminded me of the time when Nicola and Ana had nothing except bread and mayonnaise in their flat while we were students at the University of Otago, so I had mayo-on-toast for tea. Yumm. I'm considering a career in fine cuisines involving egg-based condiments.
It's not a fantastic day where I live. The sky is grey. Actually grey. And it's been raining on and off since, well, presumably before I got up, because when I left my house, the roads were wet and stuff. I'm continually in awe of what a profound effect weather has upon me. This morning, for example, I came home from training instead of going to the pool, just because I felt depressed at having to use my windscreen wipers. I'm struggling to get ready for my next session, because of the colour of the sky. Is anyone else like this?
I bet Ezekiel Kemboi goes out whatever the weather. And that's why he can run a 3000m steeples in eight minutes, and I can't.
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