The best two years

Attempts at being creative

I like to consider myself to be a creative person.  When I was in 6th grade, we had a Medieval Festival where all the sixth graders drew out various roles (queen, king, jester, etc.) and I got to be a nun.  Although I don't have any photographs of this momentous occasion in my creative life, I can only assume it looked something like this:

At any rate, one of our assignments for the festival was to create a diary entry from the perspective of our character. I proudly stood in front of my sixth grade class beaming over my creative prowess as I read the diary entry that I created.  I don't remember the details but I'm pretty sure I joined the nunnery as refuge from my abusive father who used to lock me in closets (impressive, right?).

Lately, those creative juices have been seriously depleted.  In order to ameliorate the situation I have resorted to googling "creativity slump", there are some real gems in this google search but mostly I've just learned that I'm a lazy, procrastinating, perfectionist.  I've also found that I need to be inspired by others to be creative which leads to over-researching and in turn to a realisation of my ineptitude to create something unique.

Today, I've decided to overcome my slump by creating something, and found myself extremely motivated by the Typo shop on Queen Street which is full of creative awesomeness.  I'll keep you posted on how it goes, for now enjoy some stealth photographs of the awesomeness I spotted in Typo.

Cat salt and pepper shakers, at first they were cute and then they were creepy.

Cute owls

On Hobbits and running

On hobbits

I have been thinking an awful lot about Hobbits lately.  Firstly, because I am hobbit-sized and still haven't recovered from my love of the shire.  Secondly, because I am very excited for the movie to come out in December.

Please enjoy yet more photographs of the accountant and I in front of Bilbo Baggins's house. I can only assume we were seconds away from Bilbo meeting Gandalf at the door when these photographs were taken.

On running
The other day I ran the farthest I have ever run, 14 miles.  This is pretty awesome until you realise that I have signed up for a marathon and have to add 12 more miles to that.  At any rate, as I was running, I thought of Samwise Gamgee and how he said, "If I take one more step, it'll be the farthest away from home I've ever been."  In reality, I can't really get much further from home than New Zealand, but sometimes I feel like tackling this marathon is a bit like trying to get a ring of power to Mt Doom.  There are no nazgul or orcs in training for a marathon but there are rainstorms, cars that don't yield to runners, and the unfortunate realisation that you need to pee when you have 8 more miles to go.

Running is hard. Really hard. Most days I ask myself why the hell I keep going after this ridiculous goal.  I guess I just remember that not too long ago I couldn't run around the block without getting winded and now I'm running a half marathon regularly as part of training.  

Moral of the story:

You are what you read

I have been thinking about books lately.  Not just books, but the art of reading, how we approach reading, what we hope to gain from reading.  These are the things that keep me up at night: books, global warming, and how people have chosen to make their political/social views known by eating chicken sandwiches.


"When you read a book as a child, it becomes a part of your identity in a way that no other reading in your whole life does."


When I was learning to read, I used to sit on a stool next to my mom while she sewed.  I remember looking up into her sewing light and asking her what words meant.  She patiently explained words to me, I remember admiring her wisdom (still do). I spent hours sitting under the desk in our bedroom with a blanket and a book completely engulfed in Jules Verne, Harry Potter or Tom Sawyer.  I devoured books.


Reading led me to an English degree, which has in turn led me to an egocentric opinion on all things literary.  I have had a rather conceited opinion about what people read.  In fact, I have spent a few weeks brooding over how ridiculous this whole 50 Shades of Grey obsession is when there are books like Wuthering Heights which should fill the public's need for a scandalous and complicated romance.  


However, as I write this blog, I have realised that we all read for our own purpose, some read for self-help, some read to find faith, some read to be transported to fantastical worlds, and some read for pure nostalgia. Reading is a personal hobby, it is an investment in yourself and if you chose to invest yourself in 50 Shades of Grey, who am I to judge you.  So, good for you, for all of you who find yourselves reading a book, any book.  I am glad you are reading and I will even attempt to withhold my condescending looks and urge to dry heave when you tell me how wonderfully complex Christian Grey is.

Happy Birthday

To my Michael:

Unfortunately, we spent your birthday sitting around, getting eaten by mosquitoes, and in airport lobbies.

Despite all of that, I hope you had a wonderful birthday.  There's no one I would rather spend a week in Samoa with perusing stuffy markets in sweltering heat, and drinking pina coladas poolside.

May the last year of your twenties, be the best yet!

bubblegumgoods: Super Moon

The accountant and I took this from Kohimarama Beach, isn't she gorgeous?

bubblegumgoods: Masterpiece Theater

There was a time in my life when my dad would turn on Masterpiece Theater and I would be bored before the trumpets finished playing the opening chorale.  Thankfully, I have matured enough to appreciate how amazingly awesome Masterpiece Theater is.

I recently watched the MT adaptation of Charles Dickens's Great Expectations, and I LOVED it! I mean, how handsome is grown up Pip?

What I have found most fascinating about this film is that it exposes everyone to Dickens.  For example, my parents watched it (my mom watched it twice) and suddenly we are all talking about how tricky Dickens's plot was and how Ms Havisham was such a disturbed lady.  I think it's amazing that a film can unlock so many timeless characters to those who might not otherwise know of them.

Oh what a day

It's getting cold in New Zealand...sigh.

I am having one of those days where all I want to do is come home sit in an amazing bathtub full of bubbles until  my feet turn into prunes and read about the great Elizabeth Bennett and Mr Darcy.

Unfortunately, I don't have a bathtub.  But, I do have a  Mr Darcy.

bubblegumbooks: The Kite Runner

This book review is brought to you by two days Facebook free. Hopefully this will be my most productive month ever.

I have heard rumors of The Kite Runner long before I have actually mustered up the courage to read the book.  I always knew that this was a heavy read although I have completely underestimated how this book stays with you and encompasses all of your thoughts. 

The Kite Runner follows the lives of two boys in Kabul Afghanistan, the boys are Amir and Hassan.  Hassan is Amir's servant, but the boys are inseparable and are more like brothers than a servant to a master.  When Hassan is brutally bullied by some of the boys in the neighborhood, he spends the rest of his adult life on a heatbreaking journey to redeem himself from betrayal. 

Although all of this book is haunting, I feel the passage below is the most profound and yet obvious passages in the book:

"There is only one sin, only one.  And that is theft.  Every other sin is a variation of theft.  When you kill a man, you steal a life...you steal his wife's right to a husband, rob his children of a father.  When you tell a lie, you steal someone's right to the truth.  When you cheat, you steal the right to fairness.  If there's a God out there, then I would hope he has more important things to attend to than my drinking scotch or eating pork."

I think about this passage regularly since I have read this book.  Maybe it's because I think we are so obsessed with what appears right or wrong in terms of "drinking scotch or eating pork" that we are willing to rob each other of the things that are more important in an effort to keep up appearances.

I give this book 5 Facebook free days out of 5.  Khaled Hosseini is an amazing storyteller, I could not put this book down once I started reading it.

The Great Books reading list

As you will know by now, I am obsessed with being obsessed with things.  So, the latest obsession is a book list I found on www.goodreads.com of the top 100 books that everyone should read in their lifetime. 

First book: To Kill a Mockingbird.

You can find the complete list here.

And my work in progress list here.

bubblegumbooks: The Hobbit

This book review is brought to you by a traumatising afternoon at the Auckland City Library.

I have not read many fantasy novels.  Wizards, witches, dragons, they are not really my thing.  However, after reading this book I find myself coming to realisation that writing off an entire genre of literature is a bit extreme, all things considered. 

The hobbit follows the adventures of Bilbo Baggins and a clan of dwarves.  Despite his small stature, hairy feet, and constant longing for his beloved shire, Bilbo Baggins is quite possibly one of the greatest heroes in literature, not because of his stunning good looks, killer sword skills, or cunning agility.  In fact, Bilbo is none of these things and yet all who meet him come to admire and adore him.  All who underestimate him end up apologising for their short-sightedness.  After all, a hobbit that is courageous enough to sneak up on a dragon is pretty impressive by any measure.

Reading this book made me appreciate not only the fantasy genre, but also Tolkien for being an amazing story teller.  I started reading this book, and to my surprise, I could not stop.

I give this 4.5 attempts at finding a book in the Auckland Library out of 5.

Happy hippo

It's funny how something very simple can make your day wonderful.  I've had a rough week, not because anything traumatic has happened. I'm just tired. It happens to me sometimes. Today I went to the staff kitchen in search of my usual mug for my usual morning tea, and became somewhat irritated when I couldn't find it.  So I opted to use someone else's mug and keep the mug-thief-ring going instead of breaking the chain and using a communal mug.

Said mug is shown below:

I feel like I've had an awesome day today simply because my mug has a hippo in the clouds of awesomeness on it. 

I hope you find something simple to bring you happiness too.

Debbie does something: bookmarks

Today Jess and I had an in-depth discussion about bookmarks.  When I was younger, my mom used to sew these amazing bookmarks that had an elastic around them to hold them in place.  This childhood reminiscing resulted in a google search which resulted in a craft project. 

Ta-da! Bookmark!

 

What's more awesome than an adorable elephant bookmark? Nothing!

Super in-depth instructions on how to make the world's most complex and yet amazingly awesome bookmark:

1.   Skip on down to your local craft/hobby/dollar/cheap Japanese market and get yourself some:

• elastic
• super cute patches
• needle and thread (if you're one of those people who don't have any on hand because you didn't steal the sewing kit from a hotel recently).

2. Take your elastic and cut it into a 15-inch piece, that's like 38.1 cm for those of you who still use the metric system.

3.  Sew your elastic into a circle using shoddy sewing skills.  Keep track of the pointy end of the needle at all times, it's lethal.

4. Sew the patch onto the elastic band, preferably covering up your shoddy sewing skills.

There you have it.  Easy-peasy-Auckland-breezy. 

While working on above craft project, Mike (who from here on out shall be referred to as The Accountant) told me that bookmarks don't work on the kindle.  I showed him...

Mark Twain approved!

Tom yum soup nom nom nom

bubblegumgoods: Moleskine notebooks

There are few things in this world that make me squeal, clap and cry at the same time...well, that's not entirely true, there are actually quite a few things that provoke this reaction from me.  But this isn't about me, it's about these Moleskine notebooks and how I think they are the single greatest stationary creation...EVER. 

Top 3 reasons why you should have a Moleskine:
1. Moleskines are legendary notebooks used by: Vincent Van Gogh, Pablo Picasso, Ernest Hemingway and some guy named Bruce Chatwin. I don't know about you, but having a Moleskine makes me feel like I'm in the cool group, with my friends Picasso and Hemingway.  Now all I need is to make some bizzare paintings and fight a bull...

2. Do you ever go into a store like Barnes & Noble or Whitcoulls and fan through notebooks or books and smell the paper, or think of the wonderful story inside and the things you will create on the pages?  I do, and if you don't, you should.  When I get a new Moleskine notebook it inspires me, motivates me to create something, write something, draw something.  I attribute this inspiration solely to Moleskine notebooks.

3.  When the Zombie uprising comes and we can no longer track our lives via Facebook timeline, all of our history will be erased.  Well, yours will, mine won't because I've got my Moleskines.

I hope this blog post inspires all of you to run out and buy Moleskine notebooks.

Dinner at Elliott Stables

Book of the week: Lance Armstrong, it's not about the bike

This book review is sponsored by a weekend in Wellington, New Zealand where Mike made me walk to the airport and we were still two hours early.

I'm not usually one for reading celebrity biographies and especially not athlete, celebrity biographies, but I'm attempting to branch out.  Reading Lance Armstrong's book made me respect the athlete and person he is.  Do I still think he's an egomaniacal perfectionist? Yes.  Do I think that is why he has been able to stay on top of the biking world? Absolutely.  If you respect nothing else about Lance Armstrong, not even his biking career you have to respect his battle with cancer, but I also believe that anyone who has battled any kind of cancer deserves the same level of respect.

Maybe the best thing about reading this book was coming to the realization that Lance Armstrong is a fallible human with chips on his shoulder about his childhood and people who have wronged him in his career.

If I had to recommend any part of this book, I would recommend the last few chapters, I believe that they are the most revealing chapters of the whole book and carry within them a certain inspiration that can be lacking in the rest of the book.

I give this book a 3 km walk to the airport out of 5.

Upcoming book of the week reviews:

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Tuxedo jacket and beetle

Super Mike

Finally got my new glasses! What a mission!!!

Tamsin whipping up a lamb roast

Yummy roast lamb with Tamsin

Book of the week: Cloudstreet

This book review is sponsored by 43 North Talbot Drive.  My Cloudstreet.

I have not read any Australian authors, and after reading this book I realize how tragic that is.  Tim Winton should be lauded with the likes of Steinbeck and Carson McCullers for his incredible ability to interweave incredibly complex plots in a way that makes you long for a connection.

Cloudstreet follows the lives of two families, the Pickles and the Lambs, over a period of ten years.  The Pickles are prone to gambling and drinking while the Lambs are an impoverished family looking to make right in the world by being god-fearing, hard workers.

They come to inhabit Cloudstreet together and divide the house in half.  The Lambs need the Pickles for somewhere to live, and the Pickles need the Lambs because the father, Sam Pickles, gambles away most of the money he makes and the mother, Dolly Pickles drinks the rest of it.  But Cloudstreet is no ordinary house, it's not haunted in a Henry James kind of way, but it breathes in and out, it absorbs the families, it protects them, it haunts them.

This book is a narrative on what it takes for a family to stick together, for no matter how hard things are or how screwed up we become, family sticks together, and sometimes you find the family you need in the places you least expect to find them.

I give this book 4.5 out of 5.  It is one of those books that as you read, the plot and the characters stick in your brain, and when you finally finish the book you are actually sad that you will not be in their lives anymore.

Untitled

Sneaky snears at shaky isles

New Zealand suburbs, Jess's House

Front door, rainy city action.

Big Apple Red. *swoon

Mike insisted this would taste like vanilla frosting and licorice...lies! All lies!!

Book of the Week: Cannery Row

This book review is sponsored by the taxis outside my window that feel the need to honk at all hours of the night.  This is a source of great displeasure for me, and it has caused me to seriously consider purchasing the waterballoon launcher I currently have sitting in my Amazon cart.

I doubt that John Steinbeck requires any substantive introduction. Anyone who has taken any kind of English course has been exposed to Steinbeck. I am revisiting Cannery Row, and have found that I appreciate it more the second time around (in a non-modern lit course setting). I could go on about themes, morals, and Steinbeck's underlying symbolism, but I find all of these things to be a detraction from the simple beauty that is a John Steinbeck novel.

Cannery Row follows the townspeople of Cannery Row and centers around a group of misfits led by Mack. Mack and his misfits have frequent encounters with other characters, most notably Doc and Mr Chong.  No one in the row lives in luxury, in fact they live in downright poverty.  A couple lives in an old pipe fitting, and the boys live in a fish meal storage shed affectionately called the Palace Flophouse. However, all of the inhabitants coexist in a place where each knows their role, they accept these roles, and are weighed on the basis of their character.  Although things do not always run smoothly, it seems as though there is always something to look forward to in the Row.

Especially now, I think we can all relate to a longing to live in a place like Cannery Row.  Mack was able to buy an exorbitant amount of booze and other goods from the local market by bartering with frogs.  I highly doubt the guy in the dairy downstairs (who always asks me if I've changed my hair for some reason) would accept frogs as an acceptable form of payment for Milk Duds.  As idealistic as this book may seem though, there are many dark moments interlaced with the main story, and a few are downright shocking. I find the chapter about the gopher to be particularly sad, my dad scarred me with a video of gophers in the desert a while back, I still haven't fully recovered.

I give this book 4.5 honking taxis out of 5.  Everyone should have some Steinbeck under their belt, and this is probably my favourite of his works. 

One Year in New Zealand

I have officially spent slightly over one year in New Zealand now.  I have this socially awkward tendency to give out advice, I honestly think it's because my mom made me watch a lot of Dr. Phil in my late teens.  At any rate, I have compiled a short list of things that I have learned in New Zealand:

1. New Zealanders (Kiwis) speak English but it is not the same English we speak in Utah.  They don't pronounce their r's and they have a gajillion slang words like:
• togs (swimsuit)
• whinge (complain)
• scull (drink something quickly, chug)
• drop-kick (a useless partner, usually a boyfriend)
• mate (friends)
• biscuit (cookies)
• dunny (toilet/drop pot)
• sparky (electrician)
• 
  
  Despite this, I sill wish I had a kiwi accent sometimes, it's pretty sweet as.
2. Things in New Zealand are expensive, fact of life.  I find myself complaining about it often but it doesn't change things, if you need it you pay the price. Kind of like how I paid $25.00 for a bottle of OPI nail polish, I have needs (sorry Mike).
3. Weather is unpredictable, at least in Auckland.  If Tamati the weatherman says there is going to be sun, you should still bring your umbrella.  
4. I have made the best friends in New Zealand.  Nothing makes a completely foreign place feel like home more than friends do.  I have had the pleasure of meeting some of the nicest, most welcoming people in New Zealand.  Without them I probably would have gone home already.
5. Everyone should see New Zealand at some point in their life, especially Fiordland, it is absolutely breathtaking.
   
   
   
   

Book of the week: Me Talk Pretty One Day

I am not usually one to indulge myself in brief but explicit glimpses into other people's personal lives...who am I kidding, I rarely miss an episode of Jersey Shore, and have a strong, unexplainable desire to keep up with the Kardashians.  Fortunately, David Sedaris's witty banter is far less shameful and yet still as intriguing as my other nosey habits.

Me Talk Pretty One Day, is cleverly written and provides a vision of family life that is mostly relateable.  This book has many laugh out loud moments along with a disturbing and explicit description of collecting one's toenails and garbage then selling it to the local art museum. 

Here's a morsel to wet your palette...I will set the scene:

David is taking a French class and the students are attempting to answer a question about Easter in French:

"The Italian nanny was attempting to answer the teachers latest question when the Moroccan student interrupted, shouting "Excuse me, What is an Easter?"
It would seem that despite having grown up in a Muslim country, she would have heard it mentioned once or twice, but no. "I mean it," she said, "I have no idea what you people are talking about."
The teacher called upon the rest of us to explain.
The Poles led the charge to the best of their ability. "It is," said one, "a party for the little boy of god who call his self Jesus and... oh shit." She faltered and her fellow country man came to her aid.
"He call his self Jesus and then he die one day on two... morsels of... lumber."
The rest of the class jumped in, offering bits of information that would have given the pope an aneurysm.
"He die one day and then he go above of my head to live with your father."
"He weared of himself the long hair and after he die. the first day he come back here for to say hello to the peoples, he nice the Jesus."

I give this 3.5 apple slices dipped in peanut butter out of 5, the book was good but I got a bit tired of hearing about France, kind of like how you get tired of reading about New Zealand...yes, we get it, it's amazing, and we're all SUPER jealous. *_*


Book of the week

I would first and foremost like to thank the sponsors of this post:
1. A bag of carnival cotton candy which lead to an intense sugar high, and a crash that ended in a three hour nap circa 5:30pm.
2. An intense morning of non-committal cleaning which resulted in me inhaling a significant amount of oven cleaner.

So basically, I have abandoned the cleaning (hence the non-committal part) and I can't sleep because I overdosed on cotton candy. Yay.

Point of the post:
I have re-kindled (some pun intended) my obsession with reading books. This week's book is: Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close.

I bought this book and literally read it in two days. The story follows a boy named Oskar Schell who is coping with the loss of his father on September 11. Oskar is inquisitive and adventurous and used to solve puzzles his father created for him. One day, he finds a key and goes on a clue hunt through New York City.

The author, Jonathan Saffron Froer did a beautiful job of weaving multiple complicated story lines and moves seamlessly between Oskar and his adult relatives and their respective roles. The best part is that he gives you little sprinkles to connect pieces of the story but the whole picture doesn't come together until the end, as a bittersweet but beautiful cupcake.

The reason I like this book so much was because it reminds me that the world is a big, beautiful, scary place when you are 11 and that somehow over time we lose this desire to connect with strangers and become self absorbed and paranoid. It is also an elegant portrayal of how differently we deal with tragedy and loss yet we still move forward.

I give this book 4 1/2 bags of cotton candy out of 5, mostly because this is my first book review and I don't want to appear too generous.