Monthly Archives: March 2004

Stop me if you think you’ve heard this one before

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I don’t have a new cellphone yet, so I missed out on a ticket to see the Friday taping of this Sunday’s NZ Idol show. Dammit.

But instead I did the following:

1. I watched a Jamie Oliver cooking show and saw him making this couscous and steamed fish dish. He was doing it all in one frying pan, but, as I furiously copied down the ingredients, I realised that I could make it without having to layer damp newspaper on top of a frying pan. I had it for dinner tonight, and it was good. Fish is too expensive, though.

2. I also watched “What Not To Wear”. They demonstrated the importance of a good bra. Their victim thought she was a double-E cup, but it turned out she was an H (!). I recently heard that most women get a cup size that’s too small and a rib size that’s too big. That just give you droopy, flat boobies. As the WNTW lady proved, a good bra actually makes a hideously gigantic bosom look normal. H cup? Never would have guessed.

3. Ok, this didn’t particularly clash with the Idol taping, but I was remember to go earlier in the evening. I saw the Salford Lads Club, oh, I mean, the Salford Lads Club playing at Galatos. They are, as the name will suggest to the savvy, a Smiths tribute band, and they’re from Wellington. Normally I don’t think too highly of tribute bands because they usually consist of guys in bad wigs mimicking bands so that old people can attempt to relive their youths. But I was willing to give the SLC a go. Galatos was packed, and while there were a few sad old people there, there was a significant proportion of people who were younger than me. The band was cool. They didn’t try to be Smiths clones, though the Morrissey was blessed with an uncanny resemblance. Instead they just played a bunch of Smiths songs really well, and everyone seemed to have a good time. There were two Johnny Marrs, needed to flesh out the full live sound, and Johnny #1 was very hot (blue nailpolish, tattoos, grown-out punk haircut, bad skin, and eyeliner). It was a very fun evening.

Robyn wasn’t here, apparently

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I’ve got the skills to pay the bills. That much is sorted.

But what I haven’t got is the necessary references from someone who has previously been my boss for at least six months, in order to fulfil the requirements of a human resources department.

Frustration is applying for a really cool job, being shortlisted, learning that I had sufficiently impressed everyone and so was their top pick for the position, but ultimately missing out because I couldn’t fulfil the aforementioned HR requirements.

It’s been over three and a half years since I last saw my old boss. He was a very cool boss, but after he left the company I didn’t keep in touch with him. Ditto for my previous job.

Now it’s as if my entire work history doesn’t exist simply because I don’t have anyone who can say, “Robyn woz here in ’99″.

But at least it is comforting (just like a mug of hot chocolate) to know that even though I may not have the references, I do indeed have the skills to pay the bills.

Witty

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I feel lost and confused. The Face, my favourite magazine in the whole world, has been put “on hold” by its publisher while its fate is decided. There’ll be one more issue and then… oh no. May is going to be bleak, unless the rumour of a rescue bid lead by Jason “Not Gay” Donovan is true. Lemonaid in reverse, y’all.

Speaking of magazines, make sure you glance at this week’s edition of Woman’s Day (the one with Susan Wood on the cover. (Like that distinguishes it.)), particularly page 31. For there, on the far right hand side of the weekly NZ Idol feature, is a short piece on Idol Blog. I was invited along to the interview and photo shoot a couple of weeks ago and had a really fun time posing in the Japanese gardens out the back of the Waitakere City Council.

I am supremely grateful that the cheesy rockstar pose photos were not used, but concerned that as they exist and may be pulled out in future.

Whatever happened to Jordan?

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Highlights from the C4 Top 10 show on The Exponents, with special in-studio guest, Jordan Luck, as host Jaquie Brown attempted to guide his train of thought in the general direction of The Exponents’ music videos.

Jordan: [Appears to be humping Jaquie's leg]
Jaquie: Jordan!

Jordan: Did you catch that tram?
Jaquie: The tram?
Jordan: The tram to Melbourne!

Jaquie: “Erotic”. “Erotic”.
Jordan: Wollongong!

Jaquie: “Who loves who the most”.
Jordan: Throw me a dolphin!

Jordan Luck exists as a reminder of the excesses of rock ‘n’ roll for the next generation, and why there are some things that 25-year-olds can get away with, but 52-year-olds can’t.

Throw him a dolphin. Please.

I ♥ my long Irish surname

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I’m approximately 50% Irish. I’m not entirely sure of the specifics of my heritage, but I do know that while both my dad’s parents were born in New Zealand, they both had big long Irish surnames that people have trouble spelling (Gallagher, Stranaghan). It’s possible that there’s been some English inbreeding there, and of course the long suspected but never confirmed Maori blood. I will have to investigate the next time I visit the whanau.

But anyway, it’s St Patrick’s day.

I was going to get all serious and write something about Kilmainham Gaol and Bloody Sunday, but then I decided that it would be much more fun to recap dumb stuff I have previously done to celebrate St Patrick’s Day.

Remember in the late ’80s – early ’90s when cool hip-hop people used to wear those puffa jackets and baseball caps with sequinned Africa shapes? Ok, well one St Patrick’s day I decided make a baseball cap with a sequinned outline of my motherland, Ireland. So I got my Batman baseball cap (so I’m guessing this happened in about 1990, so I was 15), and with a black marker pen I coloured in the yellow parts of the Batman symbol, leaving just a black cap. Then, using some green sequins, I stitched a shape of Ireland onto a piece of cloth. The idea was that I would then sew the sequin Ireland onto the cap and could celebrate my Irish heritage at the cutting edge of fashion.

Except there was a problem. While the mighty continent of Africa has a distinct shape that translates well in the medium of red, black and green sequins, Ireland is more a blobby shape. My attempt at capturing it in sequins had just resulted in a long thin blob of shiny green. Obviously I should have stuck with something like a shamrock: cheesy, yet simple and effective.

Another year – I think I was 14 – I asked my mum to buy me some Guinness. She did, but made me mix it with Sprite. I can safely say that Guinness and Sprite is revolting. However, last year when I visited the Guinness factory in Dublin, the “free” pint at the end was very lovely, thank you.

This year I didn’t realise that today was St Patrick’s Day until early this evening. I considered going to the supermarket and getting a can of Guinness, but it was raining so I copped out and – shamefully – had an Irish cream flavoured chocolate.