Mel is leaving. Don't leave me, Mel. Who else will show me links like this?

And The Braithwaites are back!

I was telling Brent the other day that I think I need a great big Perspective Fairy to come down and slap me upside the head every now and then. A person who hovered over you and when you started spazzing out about smallish things, came down to your level and floated in front of you and said 'OI! The Holocaust, you ning-nong!' or other usefully insulting exclamations like that. If there *was* such a thing as a Perspective Fairy, I think it would wear a top hat. Don't you? Some kind of imposing costume, at least.

This morning my mother's friend Beryl, who only just discovered three weeks ago that she has a brain tumour, had to rush her 30something son to the hospital where they discovered that he has Hodgkins Disease. They will have to go to chemotherapy together - and that's the *good* scenario. *That's* the Perspective Fairy's work, right there. Thanks, PF.

Ehhhhhh. Why is everything never as simple as you think? 'Well, you'll need a resource consent, and we'll have to cut the house in half, and blah blah blah...' Yes, I *know* all that, people. You *said* it could be done, so just work out a way to do it and hush, because you're freaking me out! You're making tens of thousands of dollars off this deal, aren't you?

Oh, who knows. Maybe we'll have to sort something *else* out if this turns into a huge drama. Or maybe I'm just discouraged because it's been raining all day and I drank too much coffee. Or because I'm ovulating. Or something.

Differences between New Zealand culture and US culture, part 843,016: Brent does not find a toothpaste that tastes like bubblegum vaguely disturbing. I do, because I feel that a toothpaste must be *fiercely* minty, in a kind of scouring-out-your-oral-scuzziness-so-that-nothing-remains-behind way. A bubblegum-flavoured toothpaste is a wimpy copout, to me. I don't even think this consciously, but when he brought it home I thought aha! Another contrast between us starkly illustrated.

Believe it or not, there is such a thing as the International Journal of Children's Spirituality.

The house removals man says that our plan will work! He says we can place a lovely old secondhand house in my mother's enormous back garden! More voting, everyone (if you're bored enough to check this out!): go to the Craig Walker Building Removals website, scope out the catalogue, and given that a) it has to be cute and charming and have wooden windows and b) 120 square metres is our max max max size, which house would you buy?? I am leaning towards number 9846, myself...

I've been reading the 'Quotable Daily' section of the Daily Show website. God, I *so* miss the Daily Show. Maybe if it played here, less than 95% of the population of New Zealand would think everyone in the USA was a gung-ho retard. July 31, 2003: 'President George W. Bush staged, as CNN dramatically highlighted, his ninth solo press conference. Solo? What is he, Lindbergh crossing the Atlantic? My god, he's presidenting...alone!' Jon Stewart, I am forlorn without you...

Oh yeah. Would the three of you who read this blog regularly please vote in the comments section on whether or not I should give up on finishing my PhD? Please take these issues into account:

1) I currently have a pretty good job which doesn't drive me nuts and has excellent working conditions. I will probably never be laid off and I could do all kinds of cool things like take six months off at 80% pay if I wanted to.
2) Soon I will have a mortgage.
3) In two weeks exactly, I will be 29. Am I too old for this shit?
4) I have not one single original historical idea.
5) I have tried to get a historical job *twice*, been flown down to Wellington *twice*, and have failed to get said job *twice*. Are the fates trying to tell me something?
6) I am a lazy-arse and I hate footnoting.
7) I could always do it later.

On the other hand, if I drop out:

1) I've wasted the best part of five years learning a lot of crap. All for nowt?
2) It would rule to be Dr. Moreau.
3) Um. Someone, think of something!

As you can see, I am leaning towards the dropout. I need some thoughts. Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

Today I heard the editor of Popbitch being interviewed on the BBC World Service. Odd! It made them sound like quite a respectable outfit, which as we all know they are *not*!

On Saturday night we saw Don McGlashan at the St James. He did a version of 'Dominion Road' with a seven-piece brass band. It was *really* cool. Brent enjoyed it too, which I was happy about. Sometimes I think he just humours my NZ music obsessions. Although I recently noticed him putting a Bic Runga song on a compilation CD, and he is a flat-out fan of Chris Knox since our Houston encounter. The colonisation of his tastes has begun!

The day *must* end. At some point. I mean, seriously. It's already been a hundred and forty-three hours long!

Sigh.

I have a transgender friend, ftm, and only just started reading his online journal of his experiences last night. Fascinating stuff. Whoever knew 'passing' in public toilets could be so fraught with drama? It makes me very aware of how complacently happy I am being female, and how weird and scary it must be to be stuck somewhere in between. Now, if I could only stop calling him 'her' in social situations... I can switch easily from 'Hannah' to 'Joel', but the pronouns sneak up on you all unawares, especially if you've had a few.

(Rachael will scorn me for that 'few'. She knows I can only ever drink two pints, max. I'm an alcoholic lightweight.)

Johnny Cash.

Well, *this* is certainly cheering. An array of carcinogens in NY residents' lungs and possibly hearts, and no one was told until now? I hope Lita and the Coach are OK. [via Alex, who along with Sonnet has far more reason to be pissed off than I do, obviously]

How fun this book sounds!

When Worlds Collide: the Wizard of Christchurch being interviewed on Good Morning America. WTF? When did this happen? In what context?

If they made a movie about my life at the moment, it would be called One Giant Hormone: the Danielle Moreau Story.

NZ peeps, check out this great website devoted to Kiwi skateboarders in the 70s, in the Dogtown vein. Some of these photos are just amazing. Plus those windskaters on the Forrest Hill water tank were a constant during my childhood...

I cannot possibly express to you how very very much I love Johnny Cash for recording a German-language version of 'I Walk the Line'.

The embarrassment of the riches! Every weird sound file that any human being could possibly want! Abba covers sung in Hindi! A Hebrew version of the Muppet Show theme! A song by Herve Villechaize! Soundtracks to 50s educational films about homosexuals! I am tremblingly happy at the hours of fun before me. Big ups to my likeminded workmate Mel (the only other New Zealander I know who's heard of Mrs. Miller)!

The VMAs: 1) I feel that Snoop Dogg is fundamentally necessary to the very fabric of American popular culture right now. God, I love him. 2) Missy brought that little white b-girl up on stage with her. I think that's cool. 3) Missy wore a green tam'o'shanter and plus-fours. I think that's *astoundingly* cool. 4) Beyonce. DAMN.

From the British Journal of Podiatry, Volume 6, Number 1, February 2003: 'A study to ascertain the potential inhalation hazard of toenail dust'.

Hee.