Browsing tag: random

I had been dreading April 29. I read as little wedding coverage as possible and seriously considered filtering my Twitter stream on the night. I sighed, moaned and rolled my eyes as the royalists’ anticipation grew and people I knew – embarrassing!– started talking about hosting viewing parties. At least *I* would be getting paid to watch the broadcast, thankyouverymuch.

Ah, yes, royal wedding duties – there’s nothing quite like covering a live event, across footage, photos, blogging, social media and just good old plain text. But as the crowds swelled and we got our first glimpses into a newly-leafy Westminster Abbey, as the princes emerged in scarlet military uniform, heck, as Elton John arrived…I started to get a little bit of the warm fuzzies. The joy. The tradition. The celebration.

Even the most jaded of us can appreciate the rarity of a popular good news story that brings people together.

Well, to be honest, it probably helps that I’m engaged myself…and that I saw in maid-of-honor Pippa’s dress almost exactly what I want for my own gown eventually. Something slim, simple and stunning that speaks for itself. That was probably the moment I was hooked, actually – from the moment she emerged from the car and everyone collectively caught their breath to ask “Who IS that?”

<via Vogue>

Annoyingly, crisis-level glitches meant I missed the “first look” between William and Kate, as well as the ring debacle, and had to watch replays later on. I watched almost the entirety of the ceremony, heading home shortly after the couple left the abbey, and tuning in just before bed in time for the kiss/es.

A few thoughts:

• Poor Wills. I have knobby knuckles too, so I totally understand the awkward ring-a-ling moment.
• Not a fan of big dresses at all. But the skirt on Kate’s dress was quite beautiful and not too OTT. Wasn’t impressed by the top half, though.
• I am more certain than ever that I will have no train, no veil, and will walk down the aisle to…well, I’ll reveal the song later down the track.
• Those pecks were disappointing. When you’re a royal, you’re public property! Still, I guess there are no written guidelines on “how to conduct your first public married kiss with the whole world watching”.

Post-nuptials, I’ve also learned that Kate and Wills broke up for a while and that Harry has an on-off relationship with a Chelsy Davy. Which led me to wonder: those kinds of relationships are tough, but how much tougher must it be when one of the members is a royal? Because that adds another whole layer of complication to matters.

Let’s face it, everything else aside, I bet there’d be a small part of you screaming “But he’s a PRINCE! Don’t let this one go!” To say nothing of family and friends, starry-eyed with dreams of life as a princess eager to live vicariously through you. That must be something that’s hard to give up easily.

On one of my 7 Deadly Sins posts, I wrote that I hated being ripped off. By that, I meant being charged exorbitant prices, while Fig took it to mean being scammed (a cultural thing, lost in translation?)

Which also got me thinking. I honestly believe that it’s basically pretty simple to avoid being a victim of fraud. Keep your personal details close at hand, and if it’s too good to be true, it probably is. Don’t invest unless you understand exactly what you’re getting into, and don’t fall for inflated, guaranteed returns.

The closest I’ve ever come to falling for a scam was back when I was 13 and was told a poem of mine had won some big contest, for which I would be flown to the US for some convention. Of course, I never heard anything more about that (which begs the question: what was the point of all that? After I did a little digging, it seemed a lot of people were told the exact same thing).

And then there was the great employment drought of 2009, in which T applied for a multitude of jobs. One of them involved something like invoicing and payment processing. All he had to do, they said – once we emailed for further details – was give them his bank account number. They would deposit funds into it and he would then be responsible for making payments. Yeah. No thanks.

Common sense, guys. It’s key. Unfortunately, I think even the best of us can be blinkered by the prospect of easy money. One of my friends actually gave out his bank details to a random guy over the internet, who of course never delivered the promised thousands of dollars.

What about you? Have you ever fallen for a scam?

• One of my best friends is apparently moving to One Tree Hill soon (just around the corner from us). Yay! All our friends and family still live out west, so it’ll be nice to have somebody else central.

• Easter. Because I’m taking the weekend off. Which means I actually get time to spend with my fiance.

• Rarotonga. July. My birthday. Enough said.

• Cooler nights when we won’t need to keep the fan on all night.

• Getting my guitar amp fixed (which I need to actually arrange…)

What are you looking forward to?

Not much of a post, really. Just a small gripe. Why must I have such a huge forehead? It practically requires me to have a fringe to hide its dominance. And regular trims (which I often do myself, and despite my best efforts, I always clog up the drain). And sometimes, it simply refuses to behave. Witness some of its many incarnations, particularly its stringier, untameable ones in the bottom row:

Are you a fringe person? What the hell do you do on bad hair days? (Please don’t say hats – they NEVER work on me and I hate the feel of things on my head)

Three random thoughts – my version of Fig’s infamous “bits and pieces” posts. I’m totally wiped out, but refrain from rants about how no, editorial have ZERO control over ad placement, no matter how inappropriate or distasteful you find a particular campaign. In fact, we hate advertising as much as you do. And yes, like everyone else, we are overworked and understaffed, so when our site lags under heavy traffic or other news falls somewhat by the wayside, pause before firing off hate mail.

• Is there anything more traumatic than getting a passport photo taken? In comparison, I look like bloody Elle Macpherson on my driver’s licence. And seeing as the kindly old Chinese lady was able to edit my photo to give me perfect skin with a tweak of the lighting levels after the fact, I don’t see why she had to ask me to blot my face before snapping the picture. (In my teens I had super oily, shiny skin. Now I have desert-dry skin that I have to moisturise like a mofo: end result, I still shine like an oil slick. NO FAIR).

• I don’t understand how T’s work shirts always get so dirty. It’s not like he works with steel anymore; he works with brand new, packaged products. I don’t believe in laundry products, beyond basic powder and fabric softener, but I think I may have to suck it up and buy some Napisan.

• Totally not looking forward to the meeting of families. I had kind of figured this would wait until we eventually organised some kind of engagement party, but apparently I thought wrong. I figure it can’t be too bad; I’ve already been threatened with exclusion from the will, and had to listen to hateful rants about solo mothers, and that was years ago. What more can happen? I guess T’s afraid of any foot-in-mouth statements on his side, and I’m afraid of getting some righteous lecture via email the next day about marrying into white trash. Which side would you rather be on – the judgey side, or the other side?

• I don’t care for the arts. I like rock music and photography and movies. I don’t care much for art, sculpture, theatre, museums. Buffy is probably my favourite telly show ever. If given the choice between a free orchestral concert in the park or staying in with my guitar and YouTube, the latter would win every time. Call me a Philistine.

• I know feminism is about choice. I believe choosing homemaking is just as valid as choosing a career. But a tiny part of me is disappointed when I hear you changed your name after marriage. (Logical or not!) Which is every single person I know who is a newly-wed or newly-engaged or heck, even just in a LT relationship but already planning the wedding – most recently, a coworker who had a really cool surname, but no longer.

• I don’t actually know how to clean a toilet or an oven. These strike me as vital adult skills to have, but I’ve always just made it up as I go along.

• I know I should spend my free time – and my downtime at work – reading about my industry, furthering my education, bettering myself. But I don’t. And I don’t really want to. I read personal blogs and novels, learn 80s and 90s rock songs, bake artery-clogging munchies and watch movies.

• I have a bit of an obsession with food. I need to have my lunches mapped out for days and little things like forgetting to take the chicken out of the freezer to defrost before dinner completely mess with my day. I’m pretty sure I spend as much time thinking about food as men apparently think about sex. And when it comes to things like salsa flavoured cornchips, I cannot stop until the bag is empty. Gluttony is my biggest weakness.

Your turn…?

<via>

I’ve been moaning too much (albeit most of it silent sulking) about my schedule. I try to remind myself that this is a good thing career-wise, and certainly for my financial goals. Plus:

• I can wear basically whatever I want on weekends.
• I can get shit done on my “weekends”, if I am so inclined – the joys of days off when most everyone else is working. Including freelance – which I probably wouldn’t be able to do otherwise.
• I don’t have to play the “in before the boss, leave after the boss” game.

In other news, I have about six weeks left to run a 10k this summer if I want to participate in the YMCA series. Which I do. It’s only $5, and they’re on every week. I totally fell off the running wagon last month (the holidays! the heat! the humidity!) so I’ll be aiming for one of the March dates.

In the last year, I have:

• won tickets to Armageddon

• won tickets to the Comedy Carnival

• won tickets to the premiere of Tomorrow, When the War Began

• won tickets to the Seafood Festival (this last one I am particularly stoked about as you may have guessed)

Not only that, I was alerted to a second release of Metallica tickets last June, enabling me to snag general admission tickets and sell off my seated ones instead.

Thank you, social media.