My little bubble

I've never had the personal pleasure of Tiger Balm before. That was until tonight.

Currently I'm splayed across the lounge floor, on a Friday night of all things, with Tiger Balm smeared on my lower back. And I have to say, it certainly makes it feel immeasurably better. It makes me feel immeasurably better.

Weird thing is that the smell of Tiger Balm for me has some sort of memory attached to it, but I can't place it. It's sitting at the fringes, and that hint of herbs, that almost cinnamon bite is pulling at something. I just can't remember what.

In any event, it means I'm here, on a Friday night, lying on the floor of my lounge. Surprisingly enough I feel pretty damn good right about now. It's the heat radiating over my back, the relief, the glory of it all.

But only if I lie on my stomach.

Hopeless Romantic

Someone mentioned something very interesting today, regarding engagements, proposals, and timing. Actually, two different people did. Weird. It did make me think though more about whether there is a set time to which people have to produce a sparkly thing. That was the idea I guess. Circumstances around me bear discussion on this point, but no more need be said regarding that for everyone's sake. Let's just stick to the philosophy of the point at hand.

Upon thinking on it for a little while, and then discussing it with flatmates, consensus appears to be confirmed that by the fifth year of a relationship, things should be considered. By no means should it prevent people from not getting on bended knee before then, nor later. There's other factors at play that can change circumstances.

I've got friends who have married for visa purposes, for family approval, and for love at an early age. Other friends have had short engagements, continual skirting round the issue and head on conversations about it.

There's even been friends who've told me on separate occasions that they knew almost immediately. Actually there's been three sets of those. Scary. That's alot of friend who've gotten engaged.

Anyways, with that inconsequential tangent avoided, each one has a different story. But the constant in each was the desire to never let the other person go.

That, in my mind, is the only consideration.

Notting Hill Actually

A good friend of mine used to comment that my life seemed very much like a brilliant script for a romantic comedy. I didn't argue, it was suprisingly correct.

Extravaganza

So no real news coming from this end of the world. Tomorrow is a public holiday, and so far my plans include indulging in baked goods. I'll be venturing into making a Chocolate Ripple Sliver cake. If all goes well, I'll post the recipe. If it goes too well, it will remain a closely guarded recipe.

Things are simply moving along at the moment, with no real fluctations in my life. Oh, other people's lifes are far more interesting than mine currently, so some vicarious living is necessary. Exams, new jobs, new homes, job offers, overseas travel, body art, more overseas travel, living in a foreign country, moving to a foreign country, engagements, possible engagements, wedding plans, dirty weekends, cabaret shows and more.

Close watching will reap rewards, so here's a couple more photos from my latest collection, Wellington Cathedral, Wellington Flora, and Seattle:











The stainglass window is from Old St Pauls' Cathedral, a hidden little gem just round the corner. It's a tiny wooden Cathedral from the mid 19th century. It has a gorgeous warm amber light to it that more than bathes the church, it swims in it.

Wellington is home to some rather strange and fascinating flora. Especially when strolling through the Botannical gardens. The light just seemed right, the colours so vivid, and the plant so surreal.

Then, there's Seattle. Everyone knows the Space Needle, but something about its reflection haunted me, more so with the spectrum of purple. Avant Garde meets amateur tourist photography.

Photo-bananza!

I suddenly realised that it's been awhile since photos have been seen on this site, contrary to my constant apologies and promises to remedy that dire situation.

So it is with great pleasure that I give to you three photos from the "I Promised Them" collection, entitled Wellington flora, Wellington fauna in Portland, and Vienna:

Hide and Seek

It's finally happened. After all those stories I've told people about the amazing alarm clock designed by MIT grad students, it's finally arrived.

Meet clocky, the mischevious alarm clock.

Don't hesitate, order me one today.

Wishful thinking

Okay, some things people need to investigate further:

• FLCL. One of the most bizarre yet most captivating things I've seen in a while. Yes, it is Japanese Animation, but it nonetheless is extremely well made, well thought out, and just pretty damn enthralling. I recommend watching the first couple of episodes at least twice before really passing judgement. You can purchase it for me here.
• Age Pryor's new album, Shanks Pony. Go buy it. Don't even bother listening to it first. Hesitate to download it, because you need to own it in all it's polymeric plastic glory. If you must, check it out here first. If you want to buy it for me, then also look here. Hypocritical I guess that I'm yet to listen to it beyond the walls of a record store.
  

So that's some of the procrastination methods I've encountered over the last whee-while. Other activities have included checking out airfares for New Zealand to Los Angeles. Turns out there's some good deals. Now if only they'd offer them for when I want to fly.

Land of the Free (From Wires)

I finally have established my internet connection at the new flat. Not that it wasn't connected before, it's just that my computer couldn't connect. And not in a fashion that was otherwise unobtrusive. Let's just say that this service provider is not entirely welcoming to Macs. But I got around that nicely. Very nicely. And now I can again update you all from the comfort of my own bed.

It's weird being back in New Zealand after my little jaunt overseas. There's something painfully surreal about the reality of Wellington. It all seems so familiar in a distant kind of way. The best way to describe it relates to the thought that struck me while I was strolling through town. I vaguely recalled the famous musing of some Chinest philosopher wondering if a man waking from dreaming of being a butterfly is simply that: a man who dreamt he was a butterfly; or whether he is instead a butterfly now dreaming of being a man. I did warn it was a vague recollection.

Nonetheless, that's almost how it feels. I had this unshaking feeling that I'd all of a sudden find myself throwing off the sleepy shackles and waking up somewhere on the West Coast of the USA, or rising to the clamour of the Viennanese Streets below me. Wellington just didn't seem to fit anymore. It could be the itchy feet. It could be more. Who knows.

In any event, there's enough here to feed my memories. The cold prickle of the air as I walk home reminds me of Hamburg, the faint thumping of music reminds me of Portland dancefloors, and many many more. In fact, memories recall other memories. There's no real structure to it, at least none that I can ascertain. They all simply exist together. Not in a stringy mess, but in a connected fashion nonetheless. It surprises me what memories lead where.

If anything, it's motivation to make more memories. The motivation to make things happen. And that I have, and that I am doing.

Vienna is my Hometown

So my trip in Vienna has come to an end. The holiday courtesy of Bucerius is almost at a close, with only some very long flights left.

Vienna was absolutely stunning, even better than I remember. It might have something to do with the brilliant weather we had. Or it might be because I wasn't nearly as distracted by the competition this year. Good fun. I have photos, but sitting in an airport is probably not the best time to whip out all my technological goodies to bare to the world.

The news for the team is that they made the quarter-finals only to get beaten by the winning team - Frieburg. They also got an honourable mention for the Claimant memo, a first for the university. And both Dan and Tom got honourable mentions for best oralists. Damn, what a haul this year. They just had to go and out-do Kat and myself.

As Petra pointed out, everything is different when you're taking it all in from another perspective. Not knowing half the people on the dancefloor or in the bar feels weird. There's also a different kind of feel, and I can't really explain it. But it was great to be back. Fantastic even. I might do it again.

The only question is in what capacity and for whom. I've been asked by three different teams if I'd consider helping them out by coaching. One of which is Wellington, another Bucerius, and the other was Freiburg, though it was offered at a drunken moment. Looks like my skills are a very desirable commodity. But I do think it'll be Wellington if anyone - I like the people, and there's a chance to get more involved than I was with Bucerius. Plus, it's my home University and I'd love to represent them in a different role.

And come on, how good does coaching a wickedly successful team at the Vis Moot look on a CV. That's something I'm going to need to consider over the next whee while in any event. Building up skill sets whereever I can. Patent Attorney exams, Profs, Coaching, and anything else. I'm going to have to work hard at selling myself in the near future, or at least that's the plan.

Well, time to find something else to distract me until my flight in an hour.