Vegemite

Turkey loves me

2006-08-28T04:14:00.000+12:00

Going through customs in Istanbul, the striking Turkish boy looks up and says, "Andrrayya..?"
"Yes" I reply.
This is my new name.

Ive been twice though customs, and welcomed by name twice, they yelled at me down the corridor telling me they understood the question I had asked 2 minutes prior. "Anddrrayya Andrrayya I understand you now!!!!"

I love Turkey.
Now I am getting phonecalls from Turkey every night at the weirdest times. At first I heard "Turkey Turkey Turkey, Aktamaar. Turkey Turkey. Then they hung up.
This has progressed to "Turkey Turkey, problem, no english. Love (kiss kiss)

The number belings to a friend's camping ground, I can't get hold Abe......and I don't know who it is that's calling. Brenda and I spent two days there without our friend, Brenda sick, lying on her thermarest all day, and I had the worst PMT I've had in years! So we were upstairs in our own little quarters, only coming down to eat. I can't imagine anyone thinking I was particularly wonderful at that time!!

So its 4.30am, Ive texted Abe telling him to call me. It seems like everytime I wake up from a slighty delerious (I'm unwell) dream about Turkey my phone rings, Ive now allocated a personal ring for that number so I don't have to answer hoping its Abe.
My last dream was about going though customs.......it took hours before getting through because all these Americans and Central Asians were ahead of me.....by the time it was my turn hours had lapsed.....
I got through straightaway with big smiles, and everyone around me couldnt believe it!
Needless to say my phone rang......
I want Abe to call....

I'll keep you posted.......

to write

2006-08-25T20:35:00.000+12:00

I've been told lately I need to start writing.

I was thinking the other day, I'm not much of a storyteller. I'm not like those people who can hold your attention for a long time, they laugh at their own jokes, and use their voice as a tool to draw you in. Their vocabulary has just enough familiar and surprising words, its not even necessarily about the content.
I just can't seem to hold a story. People get that glazed look after five minutes!

In Junior 2, I would get a nervous stomach many times at storywriting time, and a few times I even went to the sick nurse. I was a sound writer with an innate understanding for spelling and punctuation, but to write on demand? Cruelty. It really is terrible what we do to our children isn't it? Demanding their creativity at scheduled times. I guess I wasn't much of a writer at 9.30 am.

Now I am full of stories to tell, and a little afraid to tell them in case you get the glazed look. But I'm hoping if I begin, something good will appear on the page, and my ideas will become my story.
(Poetry and ramblings can stay in my notebook....... )

fingers crossed.

2006-03-21T21:08:00.000+12:00

Andi --

[adjective]:

Visually addictive

'How will you be defined in the dictionary?' at QuizGalaxy.com

YouthGroup

2006-02-13T01:43:00.000+13:00

I just had a youthgroup style night tonight. Its 1.45 am.....(see what I mean?)

I had a bit of a moan to myself when I went to the beach alone this morning, thinking I never would have had to do that when I was younger. We had structure back then...On a Sunday in the summer it was church-lunch-beach-church-Wendys.
We did things in packs. We did crazy things. We played games.

I went home early after church, just to eat I was SO HUNGRY and was ready for a quiet one. When to my delight, my lovely flatmates all came home and we were actually home at the same time!! Thats maybe happened only twice in 6 months.
So after a lovely flat type dinner of nachos, our two guests and flatties decided to go on a MISSION!!! So we called another 5 person flat and went out to the tunnels at North Head.

Hannah and I lead the way to find the one amazing tunnel that goes right underneath the mountain and out to the sea.
North Head was a Naval Defense area in the World Wars, and is a stunning volcano mountain. The tunnels made for cannons and artillery are still there, and some of them are open to walk though.
It's so fun at night. We roamed around, exploring and scaring each other.
But we couldn't find the One tunnel that rules them all. It didnt want to be found, I think. Just when we were about to leave, Hannah shouted at me she'd found it. Well, not quite true, but it did start the tunnel hunt again....which lead to the best tired-people adventures.

Yessssss. A dangerous mission.
Very Famous Five. I like sliding down muddy banks, and walking along strange paths in the moonlight.
Do any of you guys remember the island in the Famous Five books??? And the cave they had? We found one just like it.
****yawn***** rambling.
Nighty nght campers!

Fiji

2006-02-10T00:57:00.000+13:00

The theory is, by the time you have left your room and reached the breakfast buffet, you will have been greated with "BULA!!" 5 times. It's true....especially in the resorts you might even get an average of 10 metres/Bula.
I'm not sure what the locals think about all this, really. They seem to think the tourists like it, even naming a shuttle service between resorts the "Bula-bus." This would be the equivalent of "hello-bus". Maybe the name works....when the bus finally arrives, I get a small moment of excitement, "Hel-LO BUS!"

With the insight of being a fake tourist in these islands, I've discovered a ridiculous side to the seemingly harmless Bula. Firstly, there's the tester Bula. Someone greets you, then listens carefully. If you say, Buller, or Boola, you're OK. Boola is probably the best response, it shows you know how to shorten your vowels.
I've seen Fijians smirk at the quality of the response. Right now it's off season there, and one guy was so bored of saying Bula all day to tourists, he took the mickey out of himself, saying "Bula Bula Boola buller bula bula bula!"
Another guy nearly got past me quietly, until I caught his eye, and he caught himself just in time to say Bula. Its got to be a prerequisite to the job. It drives me insane....I walk past staff with averted eyes, making myself invisible to the best of my ability to NOT say Bula.
One time I did just that walking past a constuction site. Pretended I was deaf. What I got for that was screeching cat noises. Nice.

"BULA to you too," I thought.

I put the word out

2005-12-16T18:38:00.000+13:00

I've started asking crew if they have any funny stories. This one is probably the winner so far!

One of my crew manager friends has been flying a number of years, he began working shorthaul as a tanned young surfer, and is still a tanned young looking surfer about to be a grandfather. He told me this story just recently.

One of the aircraft we used to fly was a 747-200 series, that was just before my time. It had an upper deck, the same as our 400s. One of its notable differences are the toliets, on the 200 the lower deck 'flush' system is the normal type, however, the upper deck had this flap system. It would swirl water around and the waste would drop down a trapdoor.

During boarding one day, Tom saw a blackbird flying around the cabin! It was trying to fly out, and getting more and more worked up, ending up in totally the worst place it could, in the flightdeck. The pilots were doing their checks, and called him to get the dang thing out of there. So Tom fetched a blanket and managed to throw it over the blackbird, (by this stage people were boarding the aircraft), and poor kindhearted surfer Tom had no choice but to wring the bird's neck and get rid of it down the loo.

Halfway during the flight, a huge scream came from an upstairs toilet, and a female flight attendant came rushing out.....
She had been sitting on the toilet, and all of a sudden, a raucous blackbird came up from beneath, flying up through her legs! Tom hadn't quite killed the bird, and all that time it had been hanging out down in the waste tank, until someone did a big enough 'dump' for the trapdoor to open up wide for the blackbird to fly out.
It must have been embarrassing to nearly die of fright sitting on the loo, but almost as such realising all the crew knew you just did a REALLY big poo.

Chalk one up for Tom, this one made it to the papers!

Flightplan

2005-11-25T17:13:00.000+13:00

I checked out 'Flightplan' yesterday. Ive been a Jodie Foster fan since 'Nell'.
She has that resolved steely glare, behind which are the eyes of a child. (She must practice that one in the mirror every day, (I'm sure she uses it in every movie she stars).

I was reminded of the movie right now because outside, the wind is blowing through the trees.....no, not the movie 'Nell'! I'm referring to 'Flightplan'....at the start of the movie, it's winter, and its snowing. The ghostlike howling effect is timed with various scary moments. I noted that, thinking, how cheesy, how often does the wind whistle like that? Snow has nothing to do with whistling wind. The random thing about whistling wind, is that it's not necessarily about the velocity. Today was a gorgeous sunny day....and this evening has clouded over a little...it's not a gale outside....BUT! the wind is whistling. And it sounds just like the movie. Typical eh. I got on my high horse, and the next day I'm being pulled off it.

The movie was good, although it had the same type of formula as others in its genre. It didn't challenge the audience enough, perhaps because it was written as a screenplay? For suspense and action, you can't beat a Grisham.
Jodie was the real drawcard. I imagine if Jennifer Anniston had the lead, the movie would have been a failure! How much thought REALLY goes into a movie sometimes? (The perfectionists are hiding out in NZ, France, Germany.)
For a movie set on an aeroplane, ask any Flight Attendant, and they'll pick out some mistakes for you! (Lets remember, they set the movie aboard a invented new aircraft to make it work.)

Details.
Jodie had high heeled shoes on, that clopped up and down the aisles. Great effect, but Ive never seen wooden floors on an aircraft. It just plain annoyed me. In contrast to loud flooring, this new aircraft was miraculously quiet. No sound of Aircon, vents or boarding music. Vents make a heck of a lot of noise, the times I've experienced where the Auxiliary Power Unit hasn't been working during boarding, the aircraft was so quiet it felt eerily wrong. When people were talking to each other over rows in the beginning of the film, did you realise that's not so normal?
No regard for safety on this aircraft either. There was no safety briefing, bottles of alchohol weren't stowed correctly for takeoff, and the Captain would never ever come out of the flightdeck for a problem the flight attendants could handle. And, of course there had to be a reference to the mischief flight attendants get up to on every flight. Hollywood, Hollywood. Here is your downfall! Stop with the stereotypes and do your research!

Let me know what you spotted. (obviosuly the avionics was a bunch of bull****)
I should mention, there were some amazing shots to look out for....

oh Joy!! I'm here!

2005-10-27T13:48:00.000+13:00

Hello!!
I'm still out here, though obviously not blogging these days! I have been through an interesting time, I've moved house again and become a westie living in West Auckland, which of course is where Westies belong. It's so right. And oh what an amazing summer house this will be.
I grew up in Glendene, a suburb tucked away where no-one cares to think about. It is typically suburbia, has a couple of dairies, a Primary school, but not big enough for an Intermediate or a Highschool. We had to cross the horse paddock to get to those, (which has since been built over to create more suburbia.)
I liked my upbringing there, we had a secret gate through to a playcentre, a park beyond that with a bigger, scarier playground, and the horse paddock a couple of houses down the end of our cul-de-sac. The school and the dairy were walking distance away. It was a safe, quiet working class area.
Being back out west has surprised me in how settling it feels, I'm a suburb away from little Glendene in the brasher Henderson, but its familiar. I drive through the west and get flashbacks and memories. Ive joined the gym I went when I was 18. I shop at the mall I remember perfectly as a five year ld. I get out to the west coast beaches more often.
So, from this Henderson house, I will be blogging again. Promise.

For Leah

2005-07-28T16:29:00.000+12:00

Consider these words for a few moments....

MOIST
PASH
TEPID
NIPPLE
HECTIC
EFFERVESCENT
PUTRID

Did you have any strong feelings toward any of these words?
If so, how did you feel?
Please describe in detail.

Home

2005-07-25T20:07:00.000+12:00

Thats where I am.
In a new one but it's home all the same.
I'm here on my own laptop, which lived in LA for 3 weeks, waiting for me to bring it home.
I'm in the dining room, candles lit, listening to "Fat Freddy's Drop", nice chill kiwi sounds.
Knowing I'll be in my own bed tonight, surrounded by my lovely flatmates in theirs, not strangers in the hotel room next door.

Peer Pressure

2005-06-30T21:24:00.000+12:00

We did all we could to right the injustice, but failed. We have our own sort of justice system running in "our" aircraft, but this one was a no-brainer. The guy was an all-out racist.

We found him in the toilet half-naked, shirt off, pants half off. No idea how long he had been in there, but he was apparently trying to sleep, and had to strip down as it gets hot and claustrophobic after a few minutes.
52C was his allocated seat next to a father and daughter, I'm unsure of their ethnicity, they were dark skinned. To our eyes they were a lovely friendly family, I could have understood somewhat if they had unbearable body odour or spilling out of their seats, but they didn't.

On urging him to return to his seat, the British "gentleman" snapped, "I'm not sitting next to that gangster!" Things began to get a bit heated up, and it was agreed he could stay in the toilet unless the seatbelt sign was switched on or there was a sudden influx of beer drinking toilet-goers.

If you read my previous blog you know how revolting aircraft toilets are. Don't kid yourself. They're disgusting.
This man was a lunatic to actually WANT to spend hours in there, soaking in germs and nasties. **shudder** (Mind you, being in absolute desperation, as you have witnessed, can even make a crew-member dare it.)

Of course the seatbelt sign came on soon after, (rigged perhaps), so a male crew-member was sent down to haul him out of there. He would NOT sit down. Our only option was to trade seats with a holidaying pilot who had a great seat. That made us mad. If it wasn't a full flight we would have moved the father and daughter to better seats. It irked us that we had no option but to comply with the racist's wishes, so we came up with a cunning plan to send word for some of our Maori and Pacific Island customs guys to do a full search on his arrival! Let him get what he deserves, we thought.

It backfired. The racist was on his way to Brisbane, it figured really, if he couldn't even sit next to a dark skinned man, how would he have coped in NZ? Probably would have left the country in a body bag. (Too bad he couldn't have left the aircraft in one of ours!)

Something that impressed me about our crew in this situation was how angry we were to discover this type of racism actually exists, where a human being could not sit next to someone with a different skin colour. It almost had a certain shock factor to it, because it was such a distinct example of racism.

Put this same crew in a different aircraft, on a certain route, and I assure you would see a level of racism. I'm sorry to admit there is a crew culture that accepts a level of this, justified by the sheer numbers of crew and the pretense of 'shared beliefs'. If a crew member makes an almost 'standard' joke or comment, you may find a whole crew laughing, or turning a blind eye.

I have on occasion spoken out my beliefs, supporting certain ethnic groups, and encountered pitbull type behaviour, they flare up and won't let the conversation go until I have to leave it in order to do my job. It's not the 'done thing' to question crew over racial issues, and it's sad.
Let me say, that I am not completely over-the-top PC. I understand there are racial differences and attributes that make us 'quirky'. I think it's OK to laugh about these things if we can laugh at ourselves as well, having differences should not assume superiority or inferiority.

My ideal would be to see the type of outrage we experienced that flight to be excercised on any form of racism; I'm hoping my crew will look closely at intent and question ourselves when we find ourselves in a "galley gossip" session.

Toliet Humour

2005-06-29T09:44:00.000+12:00

Before I begin, there is a blog you must read on the FroggFiles, (see links). Its called Pukey Monday, (or something like that!)
Then you will be ready and primed to read about the incident that happened to a fellow crew-member....

She was on her very first flight to LA, nerve-wracking to say the least. (I remember mine with great clarity. I pulled a tray out of the meal cart, and the casserole fell off upside down on the floor. Luckily, I was at the back of the aircraft, and only two people saw.)

She had sat up for three hours during the night, serving juice and water, and could hardly stay awake. They were counting down the minutes til it was their turn to rest. Finally the moment arrived, the switch-over took place, and she filled her hot-water bottle, brushed her teeth, and had one last toliet stop before bed.

Being her first flight there were many little, albeit important things she didn't yet know. She flushed the toilet with the toilet seat UP.
Instead of everything going DOWN the toilet, it came UP, including everyone else's "business"...spewing all over the poor hostie, the ceiling and walls of the toilet! She was mortified!!

She whipped off her white blouse, and used it to clean every part of the toliet cubicle, washed her hair as best she could, then washed out her blouse in the sink hanging it to dry on a hook.

The next three hours of her break, she spent in the stinky airless toliet waiting for her blouse to dry....then put it back on and went back to work.
Nobody had any idea!!
Apparently all she could smell was poop on her for the whole breakfast service.

Ick ick ick.

Cliche

2005-06-21T23:57:00.000+12:00

Its so cliche, but I love it anyway.
It's raining outside, it has been raining all day, but right now, it sounds absolutely delicious! I'm having another moment of in-bed blogging, and the snug and satisfied feeling of listening to the rain. There are so many layers, the drips alongside the background rain. It's full of dynamics, crecendo and descendo, relaxed, then urgent. Its a symphony. Even the different tones of the drips and water chanelling through the drains have their interludes.
A few days ago I arrived home from work just before dawn, it was still night, and I could see stars above my house as I wheeled the suitcases in. The lovely thing was the birdsong. There wasn't yet a glint of the sun, but they knew it was coming and were singing in expectation. I went to bed listening to the birds, knowing that everyone was waking up to their day, and I was content in ending my night.
I went to sleep thinking about the birds, and what faith they have, singing for the dawn when they can't see it. What a clear example of faith that is. I love the hope the birds show us, and their joy in a new day. On the flight coming home we had been talking about our favourite animals, and how we loved birds; a friend and I had gone for a walk in LA and admired a huge hawk with small birds cheekily trailing and pecking at it. Maybe God was tuning me in to what He wanted to show me that morning I arrived home, an example of how I can simply love Him and sing in expectation of His presence.
So I am going to listen to rain, and listen to Gods voice in it. I'm sure the little birds are tucked up in their nests doing the same thing.

Why I go to work

2005-06-20T12:41:00.000+12:00

Its all about the passengers of course. I love the obnoxious, the drunken and the stupid. They make a flight interesting or unbearable.
We were waiting for our flight back to Auckland, watching the LA-Nadi flight boarding. Oh boy were they in for a shocker we thought. A group of middle aged men in Leprechaun hats walked by, along with American schoolgroups of "Happy Birthday" singing teenagers. Then the late ones arrived all stressed and talking very loudly.
I surveyed our bunch at the gate, and thought ours didn't look as bad. Oh you know there were a few teenagers, but not the 40 or so children we had carried up to LA. One group was a very pretty bunch of teenage girls, wearing rugby shirts. When they boarded we thought they must be cheerleaders until we got a close up look at their shirts and discovered they really were a rugby team! Wait until they see our girls, they'll probably pass out at the sight of our Pacific Island and Maori players.
Tackling is going to be a bit of fun, eh! They'll cry at some broken nails I'm guessing, maybe I should have found out where they were playing for some free entertainment.

There were a huge number of Lions supporters on board. (The UK rugby team is touring NZ right now.)
I sat next to another crew-member on the jump seat opposite some Scottish supporters heading for Invercargill. One of the guys was from Aberdeen, and we could hardly understand him, thankfully his friend could translate for us. We joked with them about going to Invercargill to the point where they were stressing about whether Invercargill had any bars.
During the night when I was serving water, Mr Aberdeen said, "Didn't ye get mutch sleep?"
"Yeah, only about an hour," I replied. I thought, man, he's good, I had in fact only just woken up 30 minutes earlier.
He shot back, "You only just met me 6 hours ago."
Now that's a great line right there. Its like the reverse psychology of pick-up lines, complementing himself instead of me! I have to admit, it was a winner.

The rest of the flight was fairly ordinary for a full flight. Another thing worth mentioning is during the breakfast service one of the rugby girls asked for water....but instead of asking normally, she pulled a distressed face and croaked out "water" with a whisper, like she was going to die if she didn't get one right away. I'm sorry, but do you ever get so thirsty you can't speak?

So, on landing we chatted to our Scots again. Aberdeen asked me if I was going to take them out for breakfast. I told them I already served them breakfast, but he insisted that was just an appetiser. (Very hobbitish.) He used some bizzarre Scottish term for the way we would use 'shouting' someone a meal. But hey, what could I do, really as they were off to Invercargill, but suggest they go to the McDonalds at the airport. A familiar name anyway!
As they left the aircraft, Aberdeen reached into the business class coat cupboard to pull out some suit-covers. "Our coats," he said. "Ahhh," I replied, "I wondered what your friend had said he had up there."
"No, not coats, KILTS. Our kilts."
"Oh kilts! Dang, I should be going to Invercargill," I said.

Computer Geeks

2005-06-18T15:40:00.000+12:00

I'm in LA visiting a friend at her mansion. Its a sunny cool day, it hardly ever rains here, but, for summer, it hasn't really heated up yet.
The tragic thing about today is the first thing we did when we arrived here is connect. Yup. We both went to our computers, connected, and checked our email. And we'd just checked 1 hour earlier at the Apple Store.
In our defense, we did go for a walk around the Rosebowl, (people still rollerblade in LA), talked about guys, which chicks do of course, and stopped by the store for the yummiest ginger beer.
But here we are again, back at the house, and connected. It was like we just gravitated towards out computers.
At least I'm not sitting here MSNing her. ;0)

Goodbye birthday...finally!!!

2005-06-14T12:11:00.000+12:00

I'm very glad to have said goodbye to birthday celebrations, having had the last one over the weekend. Its time to pass on the baton.....Gracky, its all yours!

So, here's my account of the last big party, the "Murder Mystery" night......

There was a recurring theme from the beginning.
I asked Ivanka to pick up some coffees on the way to my parents place, where the party was held. Lucky my parents were away for the weekend! I had flown in from Perth that morning, and was delayed because of fog in Auckland. So I was only just surviving on 2 hours sleep. Those that know me well, know how important sleep is to my mental health!
Ivanka arrives, running in demanding paper towels, "Ive spilt coffee all through the car!" she squeals.
Soon we're sitting at the table, sorting out character profiles; only half of them, the other half didn't get printed out, because the printer ran out of ink. We were waiting for Hannah to turn up with hers. We had a couple of hours to go, so I was scoffing down a samosa and coffee. With finesse, I did this amazing swoop thing with my arm, and spilt my coffee on the white cloth, and some of the profiles. At that moment, I really didn't care if I had a party or not.
With the arrival of a cute little 'stowaway' and helper, things got underway, Hannah arrived, and they got to work on the profiles, then Ivanka and I had 20 minutes to get ready before the guests arrived.
Everyone looked fantastic! 1914 is a difficult year to dress for, but they had all been so creative. The house had been transformed into the ship, "the Libertania", with white-clothed tables, candles, and fairy-lights, and we set sail.......

The captain was shot, and fell dramatically onto the floor, and the treachery began. The guests embraced their roles, there was so much plotting and discussion the music was canned because there was too much noise. In the excitement, red wine was spilled on the carpet, (more than once), yes, our recurring theme. Salt did the trick, and no-one was too worried.
People were itching to kill someone, and in the last hour, Maximillian and the cunning Wilma were murdered.
The new Captain had been very busy during the cruise organising his crew and deciding whether to continue to Southhampton or return to New York, he didn't have much time to talk to his passengers to find out who the murderer was. But, at the end, he did guess it was in fact one of his unassuming crew, who had murdered to protect the one she loved.

After a full-on night of acting, the guests made up with their friends they had been snubbing all night, people admitted their character's darkest secrets, and the night wound down.
I was glad to get out of my dress, which myself and others had been standing on all night, because it was about four foot long at the bottom!
I'm hoping that someone else will host a murder mystery soon, so I can play. I highly recommend it. I don't recommend that you have it at your parents place though. (Try a tavern or bar that you can bring your own snacks along to.)
Check out freeformgames.com

Blog for the sake of it

2005-06-07T22:24:00.000+12:00

I'm sitting in bed, lamp on, light off, and it's cold now. I need to get my electric blanket out of the cupboard.
This is a nice time of night, no-body's home except me, and at night it's quiet, the truckies have finished their days work.
It feels like tomorrow should be Saturday, maybe because lately I have been leaving for work on the weekends. It will be nice to have a morning to myself to get ready.

Its too late and my MSN is silent too, my email box empty, so all I have to share with is my blog, this is perfect, my blog can't talk back and ruin this moment.....'click' the heater is talking now, saying to me, "I have reached setting one, and now it's time for a break." Well yes, heater, you are doing a great job, my room is becoming nicely cozy.

"Bleeep, bleep bleep bleep." Action stations! I have received a text........! Murphys law, isn't it. It's nice to know that someone is thinking of me right now. Just in reference to my prior blog, I got a text today from the band-member who tried to recruit us a groupies. All it said was "hi cutie"
huh?? I think that is his Californian drugged way of saying "don't forget to come to my gig."

Anyway, this is distracting me from my nice peaceful blog. All this mobile beeping and thinking is getting my heart-rate up.
I think I need to put my phone on silent at night. I like getting goodnight texts, but it is kind of irritating having to reply, it takes the sweetness out of them a bit, certainly the bleeping does.

It's time to say goodbye to the puter now, and sit up in bed for a bit in absolute stillness. Goodnight.

Birthday week...(s)

2005-06-04T17:35:00.000+12:00

If you miss your birthday travelling from LA to NZ does your birthday ever happen at all?
(think tree falling in the forest scenario).

Yeah, so I'm 30, or I could live in Sci-Fi land and come up with a theory that although I am still aging, I remain 29. Whatever the case may be, I have had a fantastic time celebrating!

I experienced the music scene in LA at The Mint with friends, it has an old Playhouse/cinema type feel, with a retro "this is what I think it should have looked like" edge.
We ate around small candlelit tables watching the first 'band', three guys sitting on stools playing guitars and mandolins. They were appropriately dubbed the 'dwarf band' by us. Their guest vocalist was dubbed, 'excited to be here' as she droned into the mic.
Next up was Yardley, and Paloalto, two fantastic bands. Paloalto surprised us with their skills after a tragic warm up riff. They had it all, a posey Jesus looking bass-player, a Coldplay-type keyboardist, and a lead singer with a "molestache". You know those skinny hardly there moustaches..? Coupled with greasy hair they are quite disturbing.

The difference between the LA music scene, and the NZ one, I have discovered, is LA takes itself much more seriously. I saw this again the following night at a 'battle of the bands' night. One band were so desperate to gain groupies for an upcoming gig they gave me a free CD...and a birthday shout out..."Happy birthday New Zealand!!!" The CD was pretty terrible, I can't understand how they even have a gig at the Viper Room. Maybe its all about publicity, and the gorgeous fans they recruit.

Back in NZ I celebrated in Wellington. It was definitely the place to be, with about 20 of my friends there for various reasons.
I received the best birthday song EVER in the cafe we all met at......Loud, harmonies, the whole bit! Amazing....
I have had such a fantastic 30th having all my friends and family around me, it's been said many times before, but it is truly the most important thing in life, and the best way to celebrate.

Boulevard of Broken Dreams

2005-05-24T15:25:00.000+12:00

Of the five years I have continued to visit LA, I have only been to Hollywood three times.
The first time, I was a tourist, and definitely celebrated that! I had my photo taken with Jimi Hendix's star, put my hands in the handprints of Tom Hanks, and generally got the 'vibe'. I was a newbie to the States, and was amazed to actually be here.

Last week was the second time. I had a friend with me for the day, so we hit Universal Studios, and went by Metro to Hollywood at dark. We wandered into the Kodak theatre atrium, and then down the boulevard. Jo took some photos of the buildings, which included one of the many Scientology buildings, and glitzy cinemas. We soon discovered we were heading deeper into a dodgy area. Too many tattoo palours to count, seedy clothing stores, tacky nasty tourist stores, and weird people trying to sell us stuff seemed to be all there was to this place. We crossed the road....same thing.

A strange moment occured as we crossed a side street......it was like the atmosphere became instantly lighter! Both Jo and I sensed it at the same time, and we were glad to be out of that 'darkness'. That's when we understood what Hollywood is all about....broken dreams. If you have seen the video to the Green Day song, thats how it feels being there.
Hollywood itself keeps alive by self-promotion. What are the stars on the pavement really, and do the people that have one really care? Its not as if the 'star' itself connects to their talent and hard work. I admit as the tourist on my first visit, my excitement was based purely on what LA had told me to believe, through movies and advertising.

Now all I see is absolute emptiness. I found myself back there today, on the way to the mall. We have a new hotel only one station away. I began thinking how convenient that is, and then thought, but why would I want to come here? (The only reason would be to see a show at the theatre!) I people watched for a bit while waiting for the bus. Empty, empty. Tourists wielding cameras, that will end up with pretty much identical photos for the album, and all their friends will say, "Oh yeah, Ive been there." Elvis and Marilyn at a pavement table drinking coffee, and buskers, who sing as if they are in pain.

The saddest part of the show are those who call Hollywood home. The ones riding the Metro, with nothing better to do in the day but strut their stuff, or sit really really close to you. There are many of these people, mentally ill or homeless. I wonder how many came to Hollywood searching for a better life, or how many were actually born into this neighborhood. I saw a man dressed in dirty retro clothes and hat, talking to himself on the bus, to get off one stop later, and 'cat-walk' accross the street. I saw another singing loudly in the Metro. Another with a huge bag of stuff and thought that was cool. (He pulled out his stick deodorant and waved it about for some time.)
Its as if they are also trying to keep up the facade.

Broken dreams. Oh how they need a new dream!!! 'Green Day' is singing they need a new dream, they sing that they 'walk alone' and their shadow is all that walks beside them. That shadow doesn't symbolise light, either.
I am moved to be a carrier of a new dream for these people and those like it.... to be a carrier of the life of Jesus somehow, and not fooled by the facade of the boulevard.

Gracky Frogg style

2005-05-15T13:05:00.000+12:00

......I laughed when I realised what I had done! The same thing I had thought Gracky was so silly doing.... The story is in her files somewhere... http://www.grackyfroggink.com/froggfiles/.......

I don't often get 7 day trips, and when I do everybody knows about it, because I complain profusely and hug and kiss sick people.
Last week I had a Fiji-LA-Samoa trip. Sounds good to you, eh, but when I saw it on the roster, anxiety beagen to set in. Our old hotel in Nadi was surrounded by sugar cane fields, and if I didn't have a fantastic crew....I was STUCK. I got sick there once, and I think that was one source of my anxiety. Samoa didn't have a great history either...memories of a New Years hanging out with boring pilots at a boring dance club. (I have this one photo of all of us at dinner, and its so obvious we are all miserable behind the fake smiles.) LA was the only thing I had to hold on to...it has become very homely to me now.

In some strange way, it happens to be a truth, that when you have low expectations you are proved wrong. That was not my intent when I left home, I mean, I was not purposely trying to make myself believe I was going to have a horrible time.
But it worked, I had a fantastic time.

We have a new resort we stay at in Fiji, and have been relocated for 2 years from the old hotel....thats how long its been since I had been to Fiji! Its amazing, I think I had my jaw dragging on the ground for at least the first half of the day. The resort is huge, with 3 swimming pools, golf course, a variety of restaurants etc.
Yeah, I know!.....so Stage One included Island Massage, (hhmmm), lying in the sun, swimming, eating and drinking. Not bad eh. Stage Two...LA, the normal Costco run...(oh why do we do it...?) and Souplantation. (chicken noodle soup)

Stage Three became strangely Gracky.
One of the crew was a Croatian westie, a fun young girl, who I got along great with. We decided we didn't want to lie by the pool for 2 days, and made plans to venture out. The first day was hot and gorgeous, we have arrived early in the morning, had managed to get a few hours sleep, and felt like just going for a wee wander to get some excercise.
At breakfast some of the other crew recommended a walk up to the Robert Louis Stevenson tomb, he was a writer and poet, (he wrote "Treasure Island"). It sounded like the perfect idea, so we headed out into town first. After being leered at a few times by young Samoans, called "miss pretty" a few times, and failing to get the taxi to stop a few times, we managed to find our way to the museum.
A tour guide welcomed us, took a look at our jandals and said we weren't wearing the right shoes, and it had been raining....but took us to the beginning of the path, which was in a fact a track. A bush track. There was a 'long way' or a 'short way'. We went anyway, and followed the sign pointing to the 'long way'. Very Alice in Wonderlandish.
So, we ended up hiking up this steep bush track in the mud in jandals. It took us over an hour! Stupid huh. At one point my companion wanted to turn back, understandably so asshe was also carrying a handbag, and had a short denim skirt on. But we made it to the top, admired the view, got bitten by mossies, and half walked slid back down.
At the hotel again, we crept back through the lobby covered with mud, but emerged at the bar 20 minutes later to join the crew for cocktails looking glam and gorgeous, ready for the FiaFia show.

The next day we rented a car, I drove around to the other side of the island....its amazingly stunning, huge hills and canyons, and clear blue water.
I had to dodge numerous things on the road, people, cows, pigs, birds, dogs, and buses.....it all just felt so Island. (yes really. I said that.) We had our own little beach we spent the afternoon at, along a coast of bures you can stay in for just $25 a night.
On the way back, we began to find the villages we were driving through weren't on the map. And these huge islands we were seeing weren't either. We stopped and asked two men where we were....they were fascinated with the map, it was like they hadn't seen one before! They pointed to a village we had left from. We thought it strange, so continued to drive.....came around a bend, and realised.....we had done a big loop!!!! D'oh!! we had gone inland as planned, and thought we were going the right way, because the sea was on the correct side. At least I can say I wasn't navigating.

In the end....I can say I have fallen for the charms of Samoa, have continued to love my Chicken noodle soup, and have discovered a very strange style of massage. And my faith has been restored in the 7 day trip.

100 reasons why Lu......

2005-05-12T08:46:00.000+12:00

:0P
Nah

Starbucks Flirting

2005-05-11T13:55:00.000+12:00

Disclaimer:
When you are out of NZ and NEED coffee, Starbucks may be the only option.

I walk into the Starbucks in Discovery Bay, Honolulu, to get my usual double tall latte with half a pump of vanilla.
I'm not looking especially gorgeous. Ive got my cap on to hide under, (but I do have some cute loop earrings peeking out from under it.)
Starbucks is empty, the guy at the counter is a Hawaiian local, and there is a mainland American guy at the coffee machine.
The guy at the counter greets me with 'Aloha!!' and upon hearing my accent, quickly chirps, 'Kia-ora!'. He makes small talk about how long I'm in town.
I wait for my coffee. The other dude chats away about his studies in Honolulu, and plies me with questions, all the while smiling at me sweetly. The coffee's made, and he continues to chat. He asks me how long I am staying and when I'll be back.
When I leave, he says, 'come back soon'.

I go into the Starbucks by the Nikko Hotel, SanFrancisco, to get my usual double tall latte with half a pump of vanilla.
I'm not looking especially gorgeous, but I am wearing a T-shirt Hannah made for me with "HD Band groupie, I'm with her"
written on the front.
The guy at the counter asks me what kind of music HD band play. His response is an enthusiastic, "Cool!!! that sounds great!!" (as if I just said I was u2's roadie) I pay, and he says, "see you soon!"
I grab my coffee, go back to my room, and few minutes later venture out into the cold day. On the street I see the Starbucks guy...he sees me too, and looks straight through me.

I go into Abercrombie and Fitch in the Glendale mall...and buy.....pyjamas.
I'm not looking especially gorgeous, (and I don't remember what I'm wearing.)
The guy at the counter hears my accent, and asks me tons of questions. He's CUTE. (but we all know A&F staff are paid to be gorgeous, and flirting....well, its OTT. On a lucky day you might see a half naked guy strutting his stuff in the store entrance.)
So, he gets chatting about LOTR all the while folding my pyjamas. He folds them, unfolds them. Folds them, unfolds them. About 4 times, I notice.

Sure, there's being friendly. And then there's store flirting, You know its store flirting when the staff are batting their eyelashes at you just to make a sale....and you KNOW they couldn't possibly think you're cute because you're 30 and they are 19! Whats the deal? Does it make us feel better about shopping there? Does it make us go back, thinking we have a great connection with the staff? Do Starbucks employees actually get trainined to flirt? I don't know if it happens in NZ as much, but if any of you in the States know anyone who works for Starbucks, do a little detective work and get back to me....

This is an open forum,...I'd love to hear your store-flirt stories.....
and if it actually worked.

Death by Saliva

2005-05-11T08:38:00.000+12:00

They told me the spacers for my teeth would be the worst part of the treatment, but they were WRONG. I have coughed like a cat with a hairball countless numbers of times, and have produced enough saliva to fill a swimming pool.
Why is it that people only care if you have the railway track type braces? 'The Plate' has got to be far worse in my opinion! Not only do I look like I have a double chin now because there's no room in my mouth for my tongue, but I can't talk properly.
I lead a homegroup meeting last night, with "OK, letsssshhh get shhhaarted."
I couldn't ask for my latte in a glass yesterday, so gave it to me in a bowl. No good.
Thankfully, yesterday was my first day with 'the plate', so I suppose it wil get better.... I'm hoping my tongue will go numb from the wire its pressed against, right now it has a perfect imprint. I'm going to go and get a nice cool glass of water now.
Ssshho SSShhheee youssshhhh later. And thanksshhh for ssshhhtopping by.

Malcolm in the Piddle....(or poo)

2005-05-10T09:10:00.000+12:00

Malcolm has a habit of doing crazy things, notorious for getting caught out too. I have questions why he is an Inflight Service Director due to some outrageous statements he has said about people, but if it makes a good story....hey. He actually circulated this one himself, so it's legitmate, I heard it straight from the horses' mouth.

We love our Singapore trips....(don't we Panda), as they are always full, with 40 or so unneccessary Special Meals we hand deliver. A right pain. Everyone has the same name.
Malcolm was on the return sector, and had just gotten up from his nap. A crew member informed him there had been an incident.....in the area between the overwing toilets, a kid had done a big POO. On the CARPET!! (ick factor of 7)
She was on her way to rest, and told him they had found the childs Mum in row 23, a Mrs Singh, and she was waiting for him to fetch her and get the mess cleaned up. (Crewmember passing the buck. Not cool)
Malcolm let her go....but was slightly peeved. He found Mrs Singh, armed with gloves, and lots of rubbish bags and spray. He lead her to the poo....gave her the gloves, and told her to clean it up. Mrs Singh looked at the poo, looked at Malcolm, and said, "NO!"
Huh?
Malcolm said "Yes, you are, do it now."
Mrs Singh kept refusing, and I heard this battle of wills continued for some time, until Malcolm gave her an ultimatum, "Lady, Your child has soiled the aircraft. If you refuse to clean this up you will be fined, or police will be waiting for you on arrival to Auckland."
Yeah yeah, I know...like whatever....but it worked, she cleaned up the poo.
Malcolm was satisfied he was indeed a fantastic ISD! He smiled like a smug cat watching her scrub that floor....
He felt a nudge from behind, and turned to see a lady looking at him questioningly. "Excuse me...I Mrs Singh, you want me to clean mess now?"

It was the kids Mother. 23K. Not 23D.
D'OH!!!!!!

If you're bored.

2005-04-17T09:24:00.000+12:00

I sometimes get nostalgic for the old style license plates, remember, the 2 letter white on a black background? You know what I mean? If I ever see an old car with one, its like 'ooohhh wowwww look at that!'
Another reason for my nostalgia is that I sometimes play this silly game with the new number plates, the 3 letter black on white. I wish I didn't. And its all the fault of those silly personalised plates. Ive gotten so used to reading those, I now read the regular plates also! So, often I involuntarily have words pop into my head when I'm following a car.
With the 3 letters, some of them make obvious words, like CAT. Another popluar one is BBQ. The funniest BBQ one I saw was BBQ747. I'm sure that would have been a very non-PC plate to have around September 11!!
One of my problem letters is B. I didn't know I was such a gangsta chick until I started getting gangsta phrases pop into my head, I quite surprised myself! A tame example might be 'Dang Cute Booty'. The influence of the rapping world goes further than you think, the problem is that I don't WANT some of those B words in my head. I wonder if they will censure some four letter words when we get to four letters, maybe some three letter ones as well! Text language has strongly influenced my game, too, I see BRB, and that instantly says to me, "be right back' without a second thought.
Lucky person who gets LOL.
LOL!!

Choice or not?

2005-04-13T11:38:00.000+12:00

One of the saddest stories I have heard lately is about a lady whose marriage broke up, over children.
She's the type of lady who would be hard to get, blond, friendly, successful, and NICE. She never really dated for the sake of it, and was starting to get hassled by her family for her unwillingness to date, until she met Dave, who came into her life and disrupted all her plans. He was 'The One.'
They were married 10 years, built a house in a rural area, he a lawyer, her a hostie. It worked for a while because of their ages, she was able to keep her secret until she hit her 30's. Tina didn't want children. Dave couldn't fathom not having children. Although they loved each other as much as a couple could, this was too much of divide, and they had to break up.

It was a thought provoking conversation talking to Tina, she's not a Christian, and Dave was raised a Catholic but no longer has a distinct faith as such. For him, having children is so intrinsic, almost to the point where the sole meaning of his life is to have a family. I suppose coming from his Catholic background he has understood the importance of family, and one where the passing on of heritage is fundamental to life.
But just as his idea of procreation is natural to him, for Tina it's un-natural. She said it's just part of her make-up not to have children, "it's not a choice for her, its just who she is". (Interestingly, this is a statement many of my gay friends have made also.) She can't just make the choice to have children, if she were able, Dave would have been the only man she could have made the sacrifice for, he was the most excellent man she had ever met.

I think about this scenario in terms of Christianity. Did this situation happen because they were not Christians? Is it 'natural' or 'Godly' to want children? Certainly we can't ignore how much the Bible talks about families, family lines and childbearing!! God did many miracles to enable barren women to conceive.
If they were in Christian marriage, obviously they would need to stay togther, and work the issue through. But what would be the right thing to do....have children or not? How many women like Tina have suffered immensely because they have had no choice but to have children? The scenario makes me look at my own theology. Do I believe that Tina is deceived by the enemy to believe her feelings belong to her Self, or do I believe childbearing is a choice a Christian can make? Is Tina simply selfish?
She would say not.
Of course, many godly single people never have children, and there is never any question that this is wrong. They simply follow God not matter what course their lives take.

In Tinas case, if she were Christian, either of them would have to make a sacrifice in the marriage, and it would never be easy for them the rest of their lives together. I just wonder what choice Christians would encourage them to make. How would they counsel Dave and Tina?

airline tale

2005-04-13T11:16:00.000+12:00

A flight attendantl on my last trip told me a story about what happened to her.....

On the 767-300, there are two aisles, so the galley is in the back in a U-shape, there are stowages on the sides next to the passengers in the last two rows.
She was getting something out of the side stowage in the middle of the night, and sat down sideways on the blanketed seat to steady herself while she carefully opened to stowage door. Then the need came.....and she let out a huge FART. Ahhhhhhh......
Next thing, she feels a poke poke in her leg, she was sitting on someones face!!.....And she had farted!!! She said she just jumped up and took off, and has no idea if the passenger knew it was crew or not. That was her most embarrassing moment in the industry. Thank goodness I don't have a story to rival that...If I dig down and find something in the bottom of my psyche somewhere I will let you know, perhaps.

simple hound

2005-04-05T16:41:00.000+12:00

Just the name sets off the giggles, I am sorry anonymous, but your anger towards it was not fair really, its SIMPLE. OK.

Lets do a quick survey, post a comment to me whether you have ever made a balloon animal. And what you made.
Anonymous,is my one still alive?

Last week we had a helluva swap party, with 6 girls initially, plus 2 boys when they were allowed home. A friend of mine in Hawaii had suggested the idea was fantastic for cleaning out your wardrobe. It really is...except when you come home with "hits from the 80's" Cd's, and T'shirts that are too small for you!! Never ever go to a swap party with someone who is a natural born auctioneer. You'll end up with trash and have to have another swap party to get rid of it. My brother is now the proud owner of the 80's cd, thank goodness there are people out there who can listen to the stuff on a regular basis. I love it for about a week, and thats it. (sorry anonymous, but you wouldn't have swapped it if you could listen to it for more than a week either).

The ballon animal swap just topped off the night....(if I could sample the sound of a squeaking balloon, it would have been added right about now.)
When the little pump thing breaks in your balloon animal kit, its all over rover. We tried blowing those things up without it, and only one person could blow up half a balloon, and only because she is Taranaki hardcore! A couple of people could make a simple hound, but that was about it.....the rest will live to hate the words 'Simple Hound' forever.

And is why I wrote this blog.
For you anonymous.

Tales of travels

2005-03-31T08:24:00.000+12:00

I just had a very nice breakfast of vegemite on toast, followed by a gingernut dunked in Kona coffee. What a fine way to start the day. And it IS fine today, which is lovely, having come from rainy Narita.
Lately I have had a change to my normal flights of back to back LA's. I'm on the Narita/Christchurch run for a bit, which doesn't bother me at all...(I must admit there are a few LA's thrown in the middle for good measure).
Narita is a strange airport town outside of Tokyo. Strange because there's not much there, but there is..... Its a bedraggled, grey and confused place, full of airport hotels with European people overnighting, and flight crews from everywhere, including Japan.
To us, Narita means gyoza and beer, and Japanese mayonnaise. In fact, when we go to Narita, all we pretty much talk about is whether we ate gyoza, when we went for it, where, and how many we ate! I passed the pilot test when I went out the night we got in, therefore allowing me to drink Asahi with my 6 pieces of gyoza. Actually, I don't think I quite passed, maybe I scored around 90%, because I only had one set. But my height/weight ratio would determine I passed, in my opinion.
Apparantly a crew member has opened a gyoza restaurant in Auckland, so I would be happy to escort you to try the cabbage and pork filled dumplings. Only once, mind....its really just something you do in Japan. So book me in, quick. I will also share my secrets of 100 ways of eating Japanese mayonnaise.
I will not publish them here until Karen tries secret number one. Last time we shared a meal, she shockingly refused my good advice.(she doesn't know what she's missing!!) Karen, I will bring down some of the real stuff, next time, if you would comply with trying secret number two. Hows that?
Travelling in and out of Japan can be an interesting experince, also.
Lovely people, Japanese. My favourite is when they have chosen a sweet out of the basket, hold it up to you, and bow with a cute smile of their appreciation! Very different to the types who bury their hand in the basket, swirl it around, and surface with a full fist. I often wish I could show them MY fist!
Anyways, these lovely passengers were rudely corrupted the other day, when a grey haired, ponytailed man joined the flight. He had cameras and video cameras with him, and at first, restricted the use of these to shooting out of the window. During the day, I noticed him showing one of the young schoolgirls a picture of herself sleeping. She didn't look too impressed. But he began to go on a photo shooting spree, and soon enough the girls were all posing for him, and he would show them their pictures, zooming in on their faces. We weren't impressed at all. It was really sick, he would zoom in on their eyes and lips, etc. And there was nothing we could say to him either, because technically, he wasn't doing anything wrong, it was just the implications of his actions...where would those pictures end up? A couple of times, I ducked behind a seat to avoid the camera, hoping like crazy he hasn't been taking any on the sly. There are some unpleasant people out there, I tell ya!
But, now I am in NZ I fully intend to enjoy today. Its a winner.

Long time....

2005-03-16T10:11:00.000+13:00

Oh you poor Vegemite fans.....I have been slack, really slack.
Thank you my one faithful fan, who has done the nerd test and continues to comment. :0) You're sweeeeet.

Today I am happy to announce I am Wireless!! Well, not me, obviously, but my 'precious' is now one up to date computer.
So, I am geekily sitting in the business center of the Universal City Hilton, right by Universal Studios. One of my crew members saw Hulk Hogan in the the lift last night, (remember him?) I have yet to see anyone famous.
Ive still got 24hours left of wireless connection, so if I do see a famous person, I'll blog ya!

I knew it!

2005-02-17T10:55:00.000+13:00

Remember "Mr Cough??"

Well, he has multiplied....yesterday I became "Miss Cough" Argh!
I knew I would get sick from him. Now I have a cold in the middle of Summer, and I want to Work!
So I am off work today, because yesterday my ears didn't clear for 2 hours after we landed...it was pretty painful.
I wish I could write a letter to that man and tell him off.
But, he's probably all better now, enjoying the sun, and back at work.

Hypoxic:Part 2

2005-02-10T20:03:00.000+13:00

You were waiting for it weren't you??
Yes. I am indeed in my silly-Ive stayed-up after-a-flight state. I left Singapore around midnight NZ time...(after being up all day....) and got about 2 hours sleep during the flight. Now its 8pm.....

Let me give you the low down on the Singapore sector...for those interested in the little things.
First, its always full. Last night, every seat was occupied. We had a colourful group of passengers, Indian, Malay, Chzech, Dutch, Chinese, British, Moslem people from somewhere, a few Kiwis, etc. Some had turbans, some women had black cloaks, some wearing Sarii, typical traveller types, some farm looking types....(the Chzech boys), some dressed for the occasion....and one strange combination of denim and hiking boots teamed with sparkly brooch and earrings!!

The sector went very well, considering.
We had a young man come down the back to say his prayers....this is quite common. They bring their prayer mats and put them outside the toilet, and ask us which direction Mecca is. A group had been visiting there, one of whom made the back galley his home, annoying because of his raspy choking cough, and his close personal space. He wanted everything. Cups of tea, coffee, biscuits....all the time standing by our galley coughing. His partner in crime was "10 cup coffee British Moustache." He got the shakes if he didn't get the coffee.

As you can see, (did I mention this before in a previous blog??) I am very protective of my galley. Twice on the flight I physically held back women from cutting though my galley, when 5 crew were busy performing our circus act of packing up. Every level of space is used, and every type of equipment and food is being chucked about! Its extremely dangerous for an unsuspecting passenger. After trying polite options, I hold this woman's shoulders and say "NO, you cannot come through here"....and when my back is turned, she has pushed her way though, only to find the opposite toilet was occupied, and the queue just as long. I told her so.

The worst of it is when we've cleaned up, closed the curtains a little, and attempt to eat.
(NB. Flight attendants do eat, and exactly what you eat.)

They are still queuing up at the toilets, and walking past us, getting in our face, and wanting more...we'll be eating at the bench, and They'll come in and ask for more drinks and make lame conversation, amid the occasional whiff of toilet, and musical flush.
(NB. We are not interested.)

I usually stand so my back is facing Them, so I can make rude faces They can't see, and pretend I have no idea They are there. I have to concentate in eating only the nutritious bits from the tray meal.
(NB. As a passenger, timing is everything.)

So, anyway, I got to eat a nasty seafood pasta thing. Half a salad, and cheese and crackers.
During the night I got the privelege of being handed a couple of vomit filled blankets, and of course the company of 'Mr. Cough' and 'Mr 10 Cup'. Things were mildly entertaining when Mr Cough took out his false teeth, and left them sitting in his hand for a bit. Two British girls sitting adjacent looked mortified.
Mr 10 Cup got very excited when he saw the lightning out the window, and I got excited when the seatbelt sign came on and I got to tell him to sit down, and throw out the coffee I'd just made him!

All in all, not a bad flight, could have been worse, some nice passengers, nice crew, lets do it again. Go Singapore.

Funtimes.

Nerd Status

2005-02-07T15:54:00.000+13:00

For you, my dear pre-30's.

2005-02-03T20:23:00.000+13:00

Should I approach this blog a little delicately perhaps?

Are your hackles already raised at my title....or did calling you 'my dear' help a little??
I hope so, because I have dedicated this blog to help soften the blow of what, inevitably will happen to you. Soon.

I have learnt that by now, most of your TV watching is taken up with channel surfing....of course you have noticed the increase of absolute filth they put on there these days, and how you keep changing channels every time something dodgy comes on! Man, like 10 years ago, none of that filth would have even been screened after 10pm.
Unfortunately, the channel surfing has lead to an increase of advertisement watching, which in turn exposes our spotlessly clean minds to the disgusting shower gel ads.
But I digress.
The point is, because of your clean mindedness, you have been watching a lot more ads lately, so you have lodged in your brain an assortment of catfood commercials. I personally love the ginger kitten on the 'Go-cat' ad. Boy does he go. He is 'the' supercat. (I'm sure that stuff has drugs in it). Its quite lovely to watch these ads, really isn't it.....despite the fact they are just for catfood? Contrast this happy feeling to how you feel when you see a catfood ad with a really fat cat. Pleasant enough looking in the face... yes, the coat is OK... yes, but you can't get past the fact that it is FAT.
Then the slogan comes up..."Chef for Mature Cats." Oh.

There it is.....that word. Mature.
Get ready to be labelled.

A friend of mine is doing 'Outward Bound' soon. For under 30's, this course is a gruelling yet rewarding 21 days of adventure. For over 30's....all you get for your challenge is 9 days.
9 days?!!! How did this crossover to 'Mature' suddenly occur? How can they reduce 21 days down to a mere nine for us 30's? Do they think we are all FAT?? Did they even ask us?? Of course we understand that some of us have put on a few kilos, yes, but some of us have lost a few kilos. Just the same as these younger candidates. But the fat cat has sat on the mat of their thinking.

Lets rally to change the impression of the mature. Lets defy the silly names organisations give for the 30's, such as the 'Crossroads' DTS. Do we relate to why they say we are at Crossroads?? Of course not. We have made the decision to do a DTS. How is that crossroads? Its all linear to me.
I have adopted a new term for myself, after talking to a wise Christian leader a few days ago. I am "fully formed". I know myself well, I am living in the adult world, I have key relationships. People in their early to mid twenties, she labels "partly formed". They are still experimenting with major life choices, independent, and often do not realise the maturity and wisdom of adults over 30.

I know I would rather be fully formed than be partial.
I am not a mature cat,
I am a fully formed, sleek feline!

YWAMers

2005-02-03T19:59:00.000+13:00

You know you're a Ywamer when....

1. You know what YWAM really stands for......not Young Women After Men, but Women After Younger Men.

2. If female, you would not dream of wearing a spaghetti strap singlet to a Ywam gathering.

3. You receive at least 5 conference invites a year, but only go to the one in Hawaii....(and don't pack any spaghetti singlets)

4. You know the true meaning of Intercession, and can rattle off Joy Dawsons 'Steps of intercession' off by heart.

5. 'Bruchko' is one of your favourite books

6. You have travelled overseas within the last year

7. If female, you own a one piece, ugly beach swimsuit

8. You still tell outreach stories, once of which includes a dramatic 'border' story

9. You thought you fell in love at some stage during your DTS

10. You talk about doing your SBS, but haven't got there yet.

standby

2005-01-29T14:39:00.000+13:00

Madness! I come back from grocery shopping, haven't even set foot in the house, and my brother says, "Andrea! Call!"
I freak out for a moment thinking Ive probably got 20 minutes before the taxi picks me up for the airport, then realise its well past 2pm, the sign off time for standby today. He thinks its funny. All day he's being saying I'm on call....so he stands outside my door calling me.
Here's some inside information about the airline industry. Every 6 months I get a standby roster for one month to cover sickness. I get call out days within time bands, and if I don't get called out, I get a couple days off call. This week, I had two days sitting by the phone, and was rewarded by two days off afterwards! The great thing is the invention of the mobile phone, because now, the phone sits by me!! So I spent one of the call days sitting in the sun at a nearby mates place, hiking the next day off, beaching and cookie making the following, (go Reeses), and today relaxing at home, only to beach BBQ tonight. Bliss.
God has given me a little holiday, awesome huh, I prayed he would take care of my Standby roster, and he has, it has been my first week of beaching this summer, after all that rain.
So....back on call tomorrow, for another nail-biting morning!!! Keep you posted....

Drama Queens

2005-01-20T20:26:00.000+13:00

Gosh.

I love DQ's. The type of DQ that KNOWS she is being a DQ just to be funny. The type of DQ that you just can't wait to tell important news or share a random incident, because they will give you the response you are looking for! Like Janine, she is my favourite DQ. On that hike yesterday, I encouraged Ivanka under a fern and told her to scare Cindy and Janine. I went a bit further on to see what would happen. Next thing, Cindy is tramping right by me, thinking I was having a pee...Ivanka had let her go and decided to go for.......the DQ! Great choice! She grabbed her around the ankles and Janine delivered the perfect DQ scream.

Yesssssssss.

Hug a Tree

2005-01-20T20:03:00.000+13:00

No matter what you believe about hugging trees, it just feels good! When I stand in front of a 1000 year old Kauri tree in the NZ bush, it almost feels like the tree has a spirit; maybe it has absorbed some of the spirit from people or seasons it has seen in its long life, I don't know, but there is a certain majesty about it.
Four of us took a hike In the Waitakeres yesterday, and it was one of those days where you say to each other, "why don't we do this more often?" The trail was excellent, the company was excellent, and the trees were magnificent. There were so many huge kauri, and all the ones on the trail we could touch, Cindy greeted with a hug and a hongi! I tried it myself, and its great! I was hoping one of them would be like Treebeard; imagine being lifted up in those branches and taken for a ride, hearing the tales of the last 1000 years. One tree took all four of us holding hands with arms stretched out to fit around the trunk, and there were even bigger ones!
We saw almost every kind of native tree we could name, but not many birds....how can a bird whistle on a windy day.....?
The trail is a loop track, uphill most of the way around until you come down a steep hill and see a glimpse of water... Waitakere Dam. Yesterday it was so windy there were waves over the water, and it was a bit scary standing on the bridge looking down over the drop..."cmon cmon........, I'm at a place called vertigo.....".
We took our caps off so they wouldn't blow away.....then headed back into the bush to find stillness again.

Bicycle diaries

2005-01-19T20:20:00.000+13:00

Annie and Joanne were estatic, a lovely sunny evening for them to try out their mountain bikes was all theirs, to go wherever they pleased. Out came the Wises road map, to explore all possibilties, the girls marvelled at the city in which they live.
"Hey, check that out," commented Annie, "it appears the Onehunga coastal track goes all the way back to GreenBay!"
"Lets do it" Joanne enthused, and the bikes were thrown into the green 'beast', and they cruised out west.

As helpful as Waitakere beach signs are to walkers, dog owners, swimmers, (or non-swimmers as the case may be in the Manukau), there appeared nothing relating to bikes. The girls checked out the beach, but no path seemed to go around the rocks, as they had imagined. Once again, momentary consultation with Wises.
"I think if we bike around to the next bay, it starts there," Joanne said, while donning her mighty flash red helmet, and they took off at a fast pace, excited about the ride ahead.

The next bay had its own wee traps, muddy paths and steep hills! Very steep hills! Annie said she might walk this one out, after all, it wasn't her own bike, and she was unsure of the brakes. She looked guility at Joanne, and noticed Joanne was dismounting also. They walked the bikes down to the bay, and tried to get around the rocks, to no avail....so it was their fate to go back up the hill, around to the next bay.
"Dude, I feel like I'm out walking the dog, not going for a ride," Annie giggled, "But I think we should go one more bay over, maybe we just started at the wrong place?" Joanne agreed they would try one more entrance.
They only got to ride their bikes a few metres before more killer hills, but finally found an entry sign to some trails. Oh the injustice!! "For all the information in the world, you think they would tell you something about MOUNTAIN bikes, wouldn't you? This is a freak'n mountain after all, isn't it?" moaned Joanne with a small smile. "Well, we should go on that track that loops back to the road, and then cruise back to the car."
This was it, the girls were De-ter-mined, and entered the bush with small hope.

What a joke!! More steep hills awaited them, but they braved it, and biked down the muddy path....to find the trail only went back uphill....and there were STAIRS!!! By this time the girls were laughing, Annie thought she should just get a dog to put in the back of the 'beast'. Yes, maybe a nice Golden Retriever, like the bronze coloured ones she had seen in the LA mall......much easier to walk than a bike.
Struggling to get the bikes up the stairs, puffing and giggling the whole way, Annie and Joanne found at the top of the path, a nice grassy patch and collapsed. They admitted they had been a bit blonde to assume a bike track went around the coast, but discussed the injustice of the Wises road map.
"They are so biased toward bikes," said Joanne,"don't they know bikes are an ecological means of travel?"
"Yeah," Annie agreed, "they put everything else on the map, how hard would it be to include colour coded tracks for bikes? What's with calling themselves 'Wises', anyway? What do they think they are.....? Really!"

"I never trust the road map," added Joanne.

Napoleon Dynamite

2005-01-17T22:05:00.000+13:00

If you haven't yet, you gotta see this movie!
A bunch of us saw it last night, I was shattered after a flight, and a couple of other people were also tired....a perfect concoction for this film. (I suggest you do the same. Maybe you could fly to New York to see it.)
One look at Napoleon, and 'by gosh' it was over. We giggled right through the whole movie, and afterwards on the street outside the cinema, and in the car on the way home.
The film screened at Sundance, and was made on a budget of 200,000. (Sweeet) It's now promoted by Fox.
Gosh, Napoleon is a bad dresser, the T-shirt is something I would have worn an infinity ago. I really dig the moonboots! ! (directors own) He's the geek that everyone at school bullies, he's like, SO eighties. In fact, the school was so eighties I couldn't figure out if it was supposed to be set back then? Napoleons' brother is constantly on the net talking to his cyber girlfriend, so it must be present day. Can someone please tell me if girls still wear puffy frilly dresses to the school dance in Idaho. Sweeeet.
The great thing about this film is that it's family friendly. Nothing dodgy hapens, though you fully expect it to, and there is no swearing except geek swearing, (flip, gosh,freak'n etc.) I tell ya, its going to be a small phenomenon. Go see the movie, learn some quotes, learn how to walk and talk like Napoleon, and you will be totally cool......
Geek style.

30's

2005-01-09T14:15:00.000+13:00

I am prepared to have a crisis this year.
In June I turn the big 3-0. Last year when I was whining about this very fact, a good friend said "why don't you just kill yourself then." Coming from her, the statement was enough to shock me to silence and remorse.
It's just when you turn 30, it's like you are a REAL ADULT. I can't pretend anymore that I'm closer to my 20's than my 30's....(although I still get ID-ed at the supermarket when buying wine!!!) I have to face facts....I am supposed to be responsible. People my age have childREN. People my age own housES, carS, are doctors, etc. Its not that I am focussing on what society says is necessary. Its just a realisation of adulthood.

Today one of my best friends preached in her church, a funky Salvation Army church in West Auckland. She's a year younger than me, a schoolteacher, and is going to Salvation Army bible college this year. We've been friends since teachers college days in our late teens. Well, this morning was just great, I was sitting in church being challenged and motivated by MY friend! She was fantastic! It really made an impact on me, I was thinking, 0h-my-gosh, I am old enough to be a preacher. Then I saw the crisis clearly....part of me desires to reach for excellence, wants to be a leader, and give back to the younger generation. The other side is afraid to move ahead and would rather stay relating in 20's mode.

So, I am seeing now that 2005 is going to have its challenges in ways I hadn't thought of previously. I am going to need to learn to trust God with all the weight one can trust. To let go of the 20's and embrace the 30's with excitement and perserverance. So, for all you guys out there turning 30 this year, lets party!!!

And to Karen....thankyou for your message, I am so grateful for you, and for such a wonderful first church service for 2005.

Don't do the Can-Can!

2004-12-29T21:40:00.000+13:00

Oh my goodness....could it be? A Frank Sinatra movie you dare not watch? This is it, a 60's musical set in the late 1800's in France....where the penalty for doing the can-can is arrest. The penalty for watching "Can-Can" is boredom, and your hopes in true love dashed. At best you could add one good quote to your movie repertoire....
"where is my little french pastry".

Timing

2004-12-29T20:52:00.000+13:00

One of Gods great mysteries is his timing. It's also one of the things we find hardest to trust him in. The way I see His Timing in my mind is a massive florescent purple mass, weaving around everything. Kind of like in old school sci fi movies. It can jump backwards and forwards in time and is complex, yet beautiful.
Well, Ive been thinking about the beautiful side of His timing, because of something that happened on Christmas day. But let me backtrack.....
(purple thing goes through the funnel....)

A friend and I had an interesting missions trip during November for 3 weeks, completely out of the blue. In fact I found out about the possibility of going to Armenia only 2 weeks before we left. The circumstances surrounding the trip were just great...so God. We had no agendas, Brenda coined a new word, "unagended"...not to be mistaken for "unagendered" please!
God honoured the short amount of time we had, and we had a fantastic trip. We met families that 'adopted' us as daughters, and ate, laughed, and prayed with them. We experienced church Armenian style, in a small village out of Yerevan. We had time for lots of sightseeing and adventuring too. Armenia had to be the highlight of my year. Some of my old dreams had come alive again, and I knew it was God that had led me there!

(purple thing zips back through funnel)

Christmas Day I got chatting to an Aunt I don't often see. She seemed to know a lot about Armenia, I was surprised, and even spelt it out to her to make sure we were talking about the same country. My Grandfather had had a soft-spot for this Aunt, she seems to know all the secrets. The secret of the day turned out to be that my great great Grandmother was Armenian. I know for all you very-diverse-and-strange-culture-types this is hardly surprising news. For me, being a bland mongrel New Zealander, this was slightly bizzarre. I'm a true blue kiwi, an English, German, (maybe a little French thrown in for good measure) early settler mix.
But there you have it. My great grandmother was not only German as we thought she was, but half Armenian. (It explains family members who were olive and a bit puzzling!) I am just so amazed at how God sees past and future, and connects these things. Clearly, His timing to reveal this secret to me was a little Christmas present to remind me of that beautiful side of his timing that just blows me away!

Hypoxia

2004-12-21T09:20:00.000+13:00

Right now I'm hypoxic.".whats that?" you ask....In the airline industry I am often that way, starved of oxygen at 36,000 feet. I lose my short term memory, giggle a lot and say whatever is at the front of my mind at the time. Some of you have experienced Andrea in her hypoxic state. An old flatmate of mine used to purposefully keep me up after a flight to have some fun! A good description is that a hypoxic Andrea is a blonde Andrea.

I guess I feel like I have split personality at times. I go from one world to the next in 8-12 hours. I have a great life in NZ, but I also have this pseudo life elsewhere. Sometimes I feel, (and sound) half American, I even went to a Dodgers game to support 'my' team. (we lost.to the giants.but thats OK. San Francisco is becoming another home too.)

So, I think my blog is going to become a travel diary of sorts, I'll keep you posted on interesting aeroplane stories after they happen. This is great, because when I'm in my state of Hypoxia I forget all the juicy stuff, and when people ask me..."has anything exciting happened on your plane?" its all gonna be here.

This morning I got back from Perth. (western Aus-tral-ya) Perth is doing pretty well with 36 degrees centigrade, compared to our summer of hail, strong winds and rain. *sigh* It didnt feel like Christmas until I got to Perth and everyone was wearing Tshirts and shorts. Fabulous place.

A couple of things about the way home....

3 kids got on board and asked why there was a towel on their seat. Of course they were referring to the blanket. I have never had anyone ask me that before. Everyone drinks Rum and Coke or Bourbon and Coke. We had our share of rowdy naughty teenagers reflecting light off their CDs onto the movie screen and passengers, people being sick,a lost passport, a drunken mother....but apart from that, nothing else to report.

And now Ive got that off my mind, its bedtime for me,

Andrea

This is it!

2004-12-19T01:55:00.000+13:00

My first blog....I am beginning this without reading any of these resources for "how to" blog. That will come later!
For now, I'm going to do this Grakky style. Her interative blogs are great. Have you any ideas on what my blog should be called...? And please let me know if any of you have eaten or like vegemite...

Andi